Nyx’s POV
My throne room is never warm. Today it felt like a freezer. I sat on my big black chair, back straight as a knife. My hands rested on the arms. My claws were out just a little, scratching the stone. I’d put on my fighting leathers. No more soft clothes. I was the Alpha now. Ready to judge.
The doors creaked open. Lyra walked in.
For a second, my heart stuck in my throat. She looked… awful. Like something the forest coughed up. Her hair was a nest of dirt and twigs. What was left of her blue dress hung off her in rags. A purple-black bruise covered one side of her face. Cuts marked her arms. She walked slow, with a hitch in her step. She didn’t look like a traitor coming to gloat. She looked like she’d lost a war.
Her eyes, big and scared, landed on me. They filled with water
