Chapter Three – The Light He’ll Never See
1252 Words
The afternoon light spilled across the studio, scattering gold over canvases and camera lenses. Lyra stood barefoot, paint smudged on her jeans, hair loosely tied in a knot that had surrendered hours ago. Her studio smelled of turpentine, roasted coffee, defiance, and chaos — her favorite combination.
The walls were alive with stories — unfinished portraits, glowing screens, and half-broken sketches of Kael.
She lifted her camera, focusing on a single photo — Kael at his desk, eyes sharp and jaw set. Powerful. Controlled. Lonely.
The image appeared strong, alive — everything she wanted him to be again.
Kael Alden, the Alpha of the most powerful pack in the kingdom had been her best friend since childhood — the boy who used to sketch constellations beside her, the teenager who stood between her and the world, the man who’d grown too powerful to need anyone. Except, maybe, her.
“Romantic,” she muttered, lowering the camera. “To love a man who’d rather talk business proposals than emotions. Truly inspiring, Lyra.”
Her sarcasm was her armor. It always had been.
She’d known Kael since before either of them could shift — back when he used to sneak into her garden and steal apples because he said they tasted “freer.”The boy had turned into a man the world worshiped, but somewhere in that transformation, the softness vanished. What remained was ambition wrapped in perfect suits and guarded smiles.
She’d loved him quietly for years, long before his name became a brand and his gaze became armor.
But love doesn’t feed on hope forever.
“Still painting ghosts?”
Ronan’s voice broke through her thoughts — smooth, low, and edged with amusement.
She didn’t turn. “Still sneaking in like you pay rent?”
“I brought coffee.”
“Then you may live,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.
He was leaning against the doorway, sleeves rolled up, tie undone, hair wind-tousled, holding two cups. Typical Ronan — effortlessly handsome and annoyingly steady.
She took the cup, brushing his hand by accident. A spark jolted up her arm, sharp and familiar — that invisible thread that had started tugging at her years ago. The bond. The one she refused to acknowledge.
“Thanks,” she said flatly, pretending her pulse wasn’t betraying her.
“Gala prep still turning you into a menace?” he teased.
“I’ve been a menace since birth.”
He laughed — deep, genuine, the kind that filled a room. For a moment, the air between them softened. Then his eyes caught hers — too long, too heavy.
Her stomach twisted.
He looked at her the way someone looks at the sun when they know it’ll burn them. She ignored the flicker in her chest — that unwanted, instinctive awareness that pulled her to him like gravity.
that pulse, that hum beneath her skin. She knew what it meant. Every wolverine did. But knowing didn’t mean accepting.
Her true mate.
Her curse.
“Kael wants your shots ready before the board arrives,” Ronan said, stepping closer, his scent of cedar and rain curling through her thoughts.
“Of course he does,” she replied, scrolling through her photos. “Can’t have perfection delayed. The world might end.”
Ronan leaned over her shoulder to look at the monitor. His arm brushed her back, his breath ghosting against her neck.
Lyra froze. Her fingers hesitated on the mouse.Ronan watched her, eyes soft but intense. She tried focusing on her monitor, scrolling through a collection of photos — Kael at his office, sleeves rolled up, sketches scattered around him. His expression was distant in every frame, his eyes sharp and cold.
Lyra traced the edge of one photo with her fingertip. “You’ll never see the light you carry, will you?” she whispered under her breath.
Ronan’s ears twitched — a Beta’s hearing never missed much — but he said nothing. He just watched her, quiet, patient. Like he always did.
Her chest ached with a memory.
---
Flashback – Two Years Ago
Kael had sat on the studio floor, tie loosened, eyes glassy with something close to joy.
“She’s human, Lyra,” he’d said, voice low, almost reverent. “Elena… she makes everything quieter inside.”
Lyra had smiled — forced, brittle. “Sounds like someone finally tamed the beast.”
He’d laughed softly, oblivious to the pain hiding behind her grin.
Then she’d done the stupidest thing imaginable. She’d told him, “You know Ronan’s in love with me, right?”
Kael had blinked, surprised — then laughed again, warm and careless. “You should give him a chance. He’s a good man.”
She’d wanted to throw her camera at him. Or herself.
Instead, she’d just smiled again. “Yeah, maybe someday.”
---
“Beautiful work,” he murmured bringing her back from her memories— his tone low, almost reverent. But she could tell he wasn’t talking about the photos.
“Don’t,” she whispered, eyes fixed on the screen.
He didn’t move. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
Ronan smiled — faintly, sadly. “Like what?”
“Like you already know how this ends.”
Silence. The kind that hums.
She turned toward him, trying to build a wall out of sarcasm. “You know you’re wasting your time, right? I’m still holding out for a man too blind to see I exist.”
He reached up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered, warm against her skin.
“Maybe that’s because he was never meant to be yours,” Ronan said softly.
Her chest tightened. “And you were?”
His gaze darkened — not anger, not lust, but something deeper. Something ancient.
“Fate doesn’t ask for permission, Lyra.”
The air shifted. Her heart raced.
He leaned in — close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath, close enough to smell the faint hint of rain on his shirt. Her body betrayed her, leaning forward just slightly, caught between reason and instinct.
Then she stepped back. Fast.
“Don’t,” she whispered again, but it sounded like a plea this time.
He nodded once, jaw tight, eyes unreadable. Then he set the empty coffee cup on the table and turned to leave.
At the door, he paused. “You can fight the bond all you want,” he said quietly. “But one day, it’ll stop being patient.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
Lyra stood still for a long moment, hands trembling — not with fear, but with the truth she didn’t want to face.
He was right. She felt it — the pull, the ache, the rightness that came from something older than logic.
But how could she let go of a love that had shaped her whole life?
She sat by the window, eyes lifting to the dusky sky.
Four moons glimmered faintly above the horizon — one silver-blue, one white, one crimson, one gold. Their light fell through the glass, bathing her in an ethereal glow.
“You’ll never see the light you carry, will you?” she murmured, staring at a photo of Kael smiling faintly, a rare, unguarded moment.
A wind brushed through the room, gentle but strange — like a whisper of something ancient awakening.
She smiled sadly, setting her camera aside.
He’d never see her light.
But she’d shine anyway.
- Writer
