Chapter 5: Shadows of Betrayal

Lyra's POV

As I grip the sink's edge, my lungs burn, starved for air, and my knuckles white. The world blurs at the periphery of my vision, threatening to fade entirely. Every fiber of my being screams to flee, to escape the auditory torture. Yet I remain rooted in place, an unwilling voyeur to my sister's passion and heartbreak.

I feel tainted, Unclean. A sudden wave of self-loathing finally propels me back to my room. I slam the door with enough force to rattle the walls, harboring a dark hope that the sound might shatter their intimate moment. Of course, it doesn't. Hot tears stream down my face as I scrub at them furiously, angry at my weakness.

"Why didn't it work?" I snarl at Nova, my wolf, not bothering to mask my rage. "You're supposed to be the expert on this mate business. Why didn't our rejection take?"

"I... I don't know," Nova whimpers, her confusion palpable. "It should have. That's how it always goes for those who renounce their mates. I can't explain why it failed with you and Xander..."

Her voice trails off, and I can sense her genuine bewilderment. It doesn't make it any easier to swallow. The burden of controlling these overwhelming emotions falls squarely on my shoulders now. The weight of it is suffocating.

"What am I supposed to do now?" I demand, but Nova retreats from our shared consciousness, shame rolling off her in waves.

Part of me wants to drag her back, to shake answers out of her until something makes sense. But a more significant part just wishes I could escape my mind as easily.

I burrow under my covers, squeezing my eyes shut in a futile attempt to block out reality. "I wish I'd never turned eighteen," I whisper into the darkness. "I wish I'd never met my mate."

Eventually, mercifully, sleep claims me.

* * *

Morning light assaults my eyes as I surface from my fitful slumber. The house is eerily quiet, contrasting to last night's chaos. I untangle myself from the sheets, wincing at the imprints on my skin. 

As I stretch, I try to banish thoughts of the previous night. Try not to imagine who might still be occupying the room next door.

"Breakfast is ready!" Mom's voice shatters the silence. I plaster a fake smile and head downstairs, praying for an empty kitchen.

My hopes are dashed the moment I enter the dining room.

"Good morning, Lyra," Elara's syrupy voice freezes me in place. 

There she sits, perfectly put together as always. And beside her, casually finishing his meal, is Xander. He looks up, flashing me a smile as if last night's confrontation never happened. As if he hadn't discovered we were mates mere hours ago.

"Good morning," he says quickly. I force out a mumbled reply.

Elara, either oblivious or deliberately cruel, pats the seat next to her. "Come eat, Lyra. I heard you disappeared from your party last night. Such a shame – we even tried to sing 'Happy Birthday' for you."

"I was tired," I manage, sinking into the offered chair.

Mom emerges from the kitchen, a plate of fried eggs in hand. She catches my eye, gesturing for me to join her. I follow, expecting to be handed dishes to set out. Instead, she pulls me into a corner, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"I'm so proud of how you're handling this," she says, cupping my cheek. "See? It's not so terrible to let your sister have her moment. Doesn't it feel good to put her happiness first, just this once?"

I want to scream that I've been doing that my entire life. That I'm always the one expected to step aside. Instead, I nod meekly. "It's fine, Mom. Really."

Her smile widens. "That's my girl. Now, serve them some more food. Xander will be leaving soon – he'll need his energy."

The implication behind her words makes my stomach churn. I return to the table, sliding the bread towards Xander. He thanks me casually, and I'm sure my heart is about to leap out of my chest. 

Just as I'm about to sit, the phone's shrill ring cuts through the air.

"Can you get that?" Elara asks, not bothering to look up from her plate.

Grateful for the excuse to escape, I hurry to answer. "Nightshade residence."

"There you are, princess." 

The familiar, deep voice slithers into my ear, sending icy tendrils down my spine. My finger hovers over the disconnect button, but I find myself paralyzed. The receiver remains pressed to my ear as my pulse races, each rapid breath barely sustaining me.

"So, how does it feel?" he purrs, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "To be betrayed by your mate? Is it exquisite? Do you savor it? Do you finally understand what you've been doing to me all this time?"

The words I want to hurl at him – vicious, hate-filled words – die in my throat.

"Your silence speaks volumes," he chuckles. "Now that you've tasted that particular agony, why not end our suffering? Do as I ask, Lyra. It's the only way."

"Who are you?" I finally growl, my voice barely above a whisper. "What do you want from me?"

His answer chills me to my core:

"I'm your destiny, Lyra. And I want you. All of you."

As his words hang in the air, I realize with terrifying clarity that my ordeal is far from over. It's only just beginning.