Chapter 15
1202 Words
Lyra
Today had been marvelous, the first time I had ever stepped beyond the suffocating walls of my existence, but as the royal carriage rolled back through the iron gates of the castle, a heavy melancholy settled over me, and my smile slowly faded.
“Ahh,” I let out a soft, self-pitying sigh.
“Why the long face, my Lady? Didn't you enjoy your day in the town?” Elin asked, tilting her head.
“I enjoyed it immensely,” I gestured back to her with a wistful expression. “I just feel a sudden ache knowing we have to return to this darkness.”
“True, but we will be going out again very soon,” she said reassuringly, taking a cheerful bite of her warm bun. “The Festival of Songs will be starting in just a matter of days.”
I looked at her curiously, Festival of Songs... what is that?
“It is a grand celebration dedicated to the Moon Goddess, pack unity, and our warrior traditions,” Elin explained, her eyes lighting up. “Packs from all over the territories travel here to celebrate it. The festivities last until dawn. In fact, your pack has hosted the celebration before.”
A heavy realization settled in my stomach. Something this massive, this beautiful, had happened right beneath my nose, and I had been completely oblivious to it.
Ahhhhh. I sighed again, this time in pure frustration.
Locked away my entire life, hidden like a shameful secret, it had never once crossed my mind that a wolfless creature like me would ever be permitted to attend a festival.
The carriage ground to a halt. Elin climbed down first, turning to assist me onto the cobblestones, but before we could even make our way through the grand, open doors of the pack house, a sharp figure stepped into our path. My eyes widened in pure shock.
It was Selena.
A horrific, raw scar ran along her cheek, the healing flesh puckering into a cruel C-shape. Her eyes were bloodshot, her pupils slit with a terrifying, unhinged rage.
What? Why is she looking at me with so much hatred? My heart skipped a beat.
“You,” she spat, her chest rising and falling with jagged, angry breaths. “You are nothing but wolfless rubbish. A mute creature. The only redeemable thing about you is that face. Without it, you are absolutely nothing.”
Turning on her heel, she stormed away into the courtyard, leaving a heavy silence in her wake.
“My Lady...” Elin called out, her voice laced with deep worry.
I stood entirely frozen, my eyes anchored to the empty spot where Selena had just stood. Her venomous words echoed in my ears, cutting deeper than any blade ever could.
She didn't lie, did she? Without my face, I was nothing. Without my beauty, I was entirely useless. I had no wolf to protect me, no supernatural powers to command, and no voice to defend myself.
I had nothing, Just my face.
“My Lady, you are crying.” Elin stepped closer, her fingers reaching up to tenderly wipe away the hot tears spilling down my cheeks.
I gently caught her hands, forcing a faint, hollow smile onto my lips before waving my hand to dismiss her for the evening.
“But, La…. ” Elin tried to protest, her face falling.
I didn't give her the chance to argue. I turned away, hurrying into the castle, desperately seeking the isolation of my bedroom to do the only thing I knew how to do perfectly: cry.
As I hurried down the dim, quiet corridor leading to my chamber, a strong hand suddenly shot out from the darkness. Before I could react, I was dragged backward and pinned flush against the cold stone wall.
Ace.
My mind raced. What on earth is his problem this time?
His touch was surprisingly gentle against my skin, yet his large body acted as an inescapable cage of pure heat, trapping me completely in the shadows of the hallway. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against the sensitive shell of my ear, sending a traitorous, involuntary shiver straight down my spine.
Why can't I find the strength to stop him? I asked myself desperately.
Refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the terror clawing at my throat, I forced my features into a rigid, emotionless mask of stone.
“I know you can feel it,” Ace murmured, his voice dropping into a low, predatory growl that vibrated against my skin.
Feel what, exactly? I screamed silently. Half the time, the riddles he spoke made absolutely no sense to me.
He shifted even closer, the tip of his nose skimming lightly against my temple. “I can smell how your body reacts to me, Lyra. I can smell exactly how much you want me.”
Want him! A bitter spike of anger flared through my numbness. How could a useless, broken creature like me ever want anyone? The only thing I was capable of doing in this world was existing.
I felt deeply insulted by his arrogance, but I remained perfectly still, keeping my lips clamped shut. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was playing a game, mocking me to see if the pressure would force me to speak. But I refused to break.
I drew in a sharp, quiet breath, my heart hammering violently against my ribs like a trapped bird.
The panic was rising and I needed to escape before a guard or a roaming servant walked down this corridor; I couldn't survive another wave of malicious castle rumors.
Mustering every ounce of strength I possessed, I slammed my palms against his broad chest and shoved. He didn't budge an inch at first, but when I bared my teeth and met his gaze with a look cold enough to draw blood, he finally relented. He stepped back slowly, a dark, knowing smirk dancing on his lips.
I didn't say a single word. Let him burn in his own curiosity.
The moment the space cleared, I turned and fled. The sharp click of my heels echoed off the stone floors until I finally reached the hollow safety of my chambers.
The second the heavy wooden doors clicked shut, the carefully practiced composure I had spent years perfecting completely shattered. I collapsed onto the silk sheets of my bed, my lungs burning as I finally released the suffocating air I’d been holding inside. Closing my eyes tightly, the shifting shadows of the room seemed to morph into the terrifying memory of another prison: my father’s house.
Useless Lyra, Useless.
The tears flowed freely now, soaking into the fabric of the pillows. I was a nobody without my looks. The child from the marketplace had been branded a curse simply because she lacked the flawless beauty I possessed. If I hadn't been born with this face, I would have been discarded just like her.
A curse that everyone would be afraid to touch.
I wept into the silence of the room, wishing with every broken piece of my heart that I was worth something more than just my looks.
- Writer
