The air was thick with silver dust, the remnants of the shattered illusion clinging to every inch of the void around them. Lyra’s boots sank slightly into the fine, moonlit sand as she surveyed the strange, in-between world. It wasn’t the arena. It wasn’t the palace. It wasn’t anywhere she’d ever seen. And yet, it felt alive—like the land itself was aware of their trespass.
Caelum stood a few steps away, his chest heaving, his dark eyes unreadable as he studied Aria, who crouched defensively near the broken ruins of the marble temple.
Lyra’s chest tightened at the sight. Every instinct screamed at her—anger, fear, betrayal—but the bond throbbed violently, tethering her to him, to the Alpha who had unknowingly broken her heart before she could even reach him.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Cae
