THE RUTHLESS ALPHA'S MARKED BRIDE

The Sister's Ghost

Lyra’s Pov

I see her in my dreams every night: Theron's sister, alive, begging me to find her.

The visions had grown stronger in the week since Magnus died. They came during the day now, sudden and clear, pulling me out of whatever I was doing. I would be in a meeting or walking the halls and suddenly I was somewhere dark, hearing her voice. The young woman had Theron's gold-red eyes and the same stubborn set to her jaw. She was chained in darkness, her voice hoarse but determined. "Brother. Tell him I'm alive."

I spent hours in the library researching Theron's family history. Sera Blackridge disappeared during the coup nine years ago when she was sixteen. Everyone assumed she was dead. There had been blood at the scene, too much blood, and no body was ever found. Theron never talked about her. The grief was too deep. He had lost his whole family that night. Bringing her up felt like poking at an open wound.

But the visions would not let me go. I saw glimpses of her location — underground, stone walls, old construction, far north. She was being held prisoner. Someone was keeping her alive for a reason. The question kept me up at night. Why? For what purpose?

I was torn. Telling Theron could break his heart if I was wrong. Staying silent meant letting his sister suffer in the dark, waiting for a rescue that might never come. Every night I woke up sweating, her voice echoing in my head. I could not ignore it anymore.

I found Theron in his office late one evening. He was working at his desk, papers spread out in front of him. His shoulders were tense. He looked up when I entered, immediately attentive. "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you about something important," I said, closing the door behind me.

Theron set his pen down. "Tell me."

I took a deep breath. "It's about your sister."

His entire body went rigid. "Don't."

"Theron, I've been having visions—"

He stood up fast, chair scraping back. "No. Don't do this to me."

"She's alive," I said, stepping closer. "I've seen her. I know where—"

"She's dead," he cut in, voice rough. "She died nine years ago. Don't use your Oracle gift to give me false hope."

The pain in his voice was raw and devastating. It hurt to see him like this. "I'm not. I swear. The visions are real. She's being held somewhere. She needs help."

Theron turned away, hands gripping the back of his chair. "I searched for months. Found nothing. There was blood. So much blood. She cannot have survived."

"But what if she did?" I asked softly.

The argument grew heated. Theron refused to believe it. The pain was too much. "I mourned her. I let her go. You're asking me to tear open that wound for what? A vision that might be wrong?"

"My visions have not been wrong yet," I said.

"There is always a first time. And this one would destroy me."

I understood his fear. Hoping again after losing everything was terrifying. "What if it is real and we do not act? She is suffering, waiting for rescue that never comes."

"What if it is not real and I fall apart chasing ghosts?"

We stood there in silence, both of us with tears in our eyes. The bond between us pulsed with shared pain. "Let me try to find her," I said finally. "You do not have to hope. I hope for both of us."

“And when you don't find her? When the vision is wrong?” Then I'll mourn with you. But at least we tried

Theron looked at me for a long moment, broken. "Where? Where do you see her?"

I described the location as best I could. Underground. Stone walls. Old construction. Far north.

Theron’s expression changed. "That sounds like the old Northern mines. Abandoned for twenty years."

"That's where she is," I said.

Theron organized the rescue mission despite his skepticism. I could see the hope fighting against the fear in him. He gathered an elite team, Damon, and weapons for a serious fight. Whoever was holding Sera would not give her up easily.

I insisted on coming. "I can track her with my gift."

Theron was too emotionally raw to argue much. We left for the abandoned mines in the northern wilderness. The journey was tense. Theron grew quieter the closer we got. I held his hand, feeling the memories flooding him. He told me bits and pieces. Sera had been a little girl who followed him everywhere, wanting to be as strong as her big brother. Her last words before the coup were "I love you, big brother." Finding what he thought was her body had broken something in him that never fully healed.

I squeezed his hand. "Whatever we find, we face it together."

We arrived at the mine entrance, old and decrepit. My Oracle sense screamed that this was the place. There was evidence of recent activity — fresh footprints, supplies, guards. Someone was definitely using this location. Theron's hope and terror warred on his face as we moved in.

The team infiltrated carefully. We wound down into the mine depths, following my visions. I led them precisely, no hesitation. We reached an underground chamber. Guards were posted outside. Confirming prisoner inside . We took them out quietly. Then we opened the heavy door.

Inside, a woman was chained to the wall. She was thin, scarred, but alive. Theron’s broken whisper cut through the silence. "Sera?"

The woman looked up. Theron's eyes stared back at him. "Brother? Is it really you?"

Theron fell to his knees in front of his baby sister who'd been dead for nine years, and I watched the Beast break apart and rebuild himself in the space of a heartbeat. I'd given him back his family. Now I had to help him survive what came next.