Chapter 7
719 Words
Lyra’s POV
The walls didn’t press in. The windows weren’t barred. And no one stood over her with cruel eyes and silver chains.
Still, Lyra’s hands trembled as she sat up in the bed.
Her body ached, but the fire wasn’t sharp anymore. Just a dull reminder that she had survived. Again.
She reached for the robe Evelyn had left folded at the end of the bed. Her fingers fumbled with the tie, and frustration twisted in her gut. Her strength still hadn’t returned. Even that small truth stung.
A soft knock.
She flinched, breath caught.
“It’s me. Kane.”
She swallowed. “Come in.”
The door opened, and the Lycan prince stepped through, quiet and calm. With a tray on his hands. Today he wore no armor - just a dark shirt rolled at the sleeves, his hair tousled like he hadn’t slept much. His golden eyes swept over her, lingering briefly at the way she sat, legs pulled close, arms wrapped tight.
He didn’t speak right away.
Instead, he walked to the window and opened it, letting in a breeze. Forest air drifted in - pine, earth and moss.
Lyra breathed it in without realizing it.
“I brought you something,” Kane said. He stepped closer and placed a tray on the table - roasted meat, potatoes, steamed greens, and a small honey cake.
Her stomach twisted with both hunger and memory. She didn’t move.
“I know it’s hard to trust,” he said, watching her without pressure. “You don’t have to eat it. But it’s yours. No one’s going to take it from you.”
She looked at him. “Why are you being kind to me?”
His expression didn’t shift. “Because you deserve it.”
A strange ache filled her chest.
“No one ever said that before,” she whispered.
Kane sat across the room, giving her space. “Then let me be the first. And not the last.”
She stared at the food, then reached slowly. Her hand hesitated midair. She forced it to keep going.
The first bite made her eyes sting.
Kane didn’t speak while she ate. He didn’t ask her to talk. He just sat there, a steady presence in the storm.
When the plate was mostly empty, Lyra wiped her mouth with shaking fingers.
“I’m not what you want,” she said suddenly. “I’m not… whole. Not strong. Not like you.”
Kane’s eyes met hers.
“You’re exactly what I want,” he said.
She shook her head. “You don’t know what they’ve done to me. What they’ve taken.”
“I don’t need to,” he said. “I see what’s still here. And what’s waiting to rise.”
Silence stretched between them. Then she asked, voice barely above a whisper, “Do you feel it too? The bond?”
His answer was immediate. “Yes.”
“Does it… scare you?”
A pause. “No. But it scares you.”
She looked down. “I don’t know what I’m allowed to want anymore.”
“Then let me be clear,” he said gently. “You don’t owe me anything. Not your body. Not your loyalty. Not even your name, if you don’t want to give it.”
Her head snapped up.
Kane held her gaze. “The bond may have brought us together. But everything else - respect, trust, closeness - will happen only if you want it. On your terms.”
Something cracked inside her. Not pain. - Relief. A breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding for years.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Kane stood. “I posted a guard at your door. One of mine. No one from Blackstone comes near you unless you allow it.”
He moved toward the door, then paused.
“When you’re ready,” he said, “I’d like to walk with you. Show you the woods around the estate. Somewhere quiet.”
Lyra blinked. “Why?”
“Because you haven’t seen the stars without bars in a long time,” he said. “And I think the moon misses you.”
Then he left.
And for the first time in years, Lyra didn’t feel trapped in a room. She felt free inside one.
- Writer
