Chapter 4

Two figures intertwined beneath the layers of tree,

“Ughh… baby, you feel so good,” Aiden growled, voice thick with lust.

“Oh goddess, Aiden… ahh!” Lyka cried out, her nails digging into his back.

He slammed into her harder, yanking her hair until her back arched. His hands groped her full breasts, fingers pinching her nipples as he buried himself deep and came with a low groan. Lyka shuddered beneath him, lost in pleasure.

But then Aiden stiffened.

A foreign scent cut through the air, it was sharp, familiar, and made his wolf jump. He turned his head just in time to catch a glimpse of a wolf vanishing into the shadows.

Amelia, Lyra’s wolf ran with everything she had, her paws barely touching the ground as she tore through the forest, branches scratching against her fur while the wind rushed past her ears. She didn’t stop, didn’t think, didn’t allow herself to feel, she just ran until her strength finally gave out.

When she finally collapsed behind a thick clump of trees, she shifted back. Myra’s bare skin prickled in the cold evening air. She curled into a tight ball, trembling, gasping as the pain finally crashed over her like a wave.

The sky had already begun to darken, dusk stretching across the horizon while the faint glow of the moon peeked through drifting clouds.

Myra wrapped her arms around herself weakly, her body exposed, vulnerable,but she was too mentally drained to care. Her heart ached with a sharp, relentless pain, as though it was being pierced over and over again, each beat dragging her deeper into the reality she could no longer escape.

Ever since her mother died, she had been alone.

Her father hadn’t wasted time bringing another woman into their home, calling her his true mate, along with her daughter who was nearly the same age as her. From that moment, Myra had stopped being a daughter and became nothing more than a reminder of an obligation rather than someone worthy of love.

She had lived as an outcast in her own home, watching from the sidelines as another girl took everything that should have been hers.

The only thing she had held onto… the only thing that had given her hope… was her mate.

The one person who was supposed to love her. Choose her. Stay with her.

And when she found out it was Aiden, she had truly believed, for the first time in years, that maybe her life was about to change. She remembered his touch, the warmth of it, the way it awakened unfamiliar feelings in her inexperienced body, the way her heart had responded so easily, so willingly.

She had thought it was fate. But fate had betrayed her.

Kylie died. And somehow, she became the one to blame.

She had only been there.

“How…” she whispered, her voice breaking as tears slid down her cheeks, “how can someone be this unlucky…?”

Maybe Lyka was right. Maybe her life really was pathetic.

A hollow laugh escaped her, soft at first before it turned empty, almost lifeless as it echoed quietly in the stillness of the forest.

“You win, Lyka…” she muttered, her voice trembling. “You win.”

By the time the sky was filled with stars, the cold had finally begun to creep into her skin, forcing her to move. Her body ached as she pushed herself up, her legs unsteady but still able to carry her forward.

Her eyes caught a quilt hanging loosely on a nearby rope, and after a brief hesitation, she took it, wrapping it around herself quickly before making sure she was fully covered. Only then did she step out from the trees and begin walking back toward the house. There was no point sneaking in. They should have already noticed that she was gone. When she arrived, it was dinnertime.

She moved carefully, keeping her head down as she made her way inside, hoping to pass unnoticed.

“Sister Myra!”

A small voice stopped her. She froze before slowly turning around.

A young boy ran toward her, his face lighting up with relief the moment he saw her, and without thinking, Myra knelt down, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Elvis…”

“Where did you go?” he asked quickly, gripping her clothes. “Sister Lyka said you’d be gone for a long time… you didn’t even say goodbye.”

His cheeks puffed slightly, his expression sad, like he was holding back tears.

“Hey… don’t cry,” she said gently, brushing his hair back. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

He sniffed, still looking upset.

“How about this,” she continued softly, forcing a small smile, “I'll freshen up, and then we can play. Would you like that?”

Elvis nodded eagerly, his mood lifting instantly before he ran back toward the dining hall.

Lyra watched him go for a moment before lifting her gaze, and meeting her father’s eyes.

“Where have you been?” he asked, his tone sharp and unyielding. Myra didn’t answer immediately, her eyes scanning the room instead.

They landed on Lyka.

She sat beside her mother, glowing, smiling as she spoke, her expression bright and carefree, she showed the hickeys to her mother as she complimented her. Myra looked away.

“I wasn’t causing trouble,” she said finally, her voice flat. “If that’s what you’re asking.”

Ryan didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t wait for him to press further.

“I’ll have my dinner in my room,” she added, already turning away.

Without waiting for permission, she walked off, her steps steady despite the exhaustion weighing her down.

Behind her, Ryan exhaled and shook his head.

“If only she were as obedient as Lyka,” he muttered.

—

“My king…”

“The recent invitations have arrived.”