Lyra POV
The packhouse had grown quiet after dinner.
Most of the pack members had retreated to their rooms or the evening patrols, and the once-lively hallways were now lit only by the dim glow of torches fixed along the stone walls. The silence should have been peaceful, but Lyra’s mind was anything but calm.
Dinner had been exhausting.
The stares.
The whispers.
The heavy tension that filled the hall when she walked in.
And Kael’s eyes—shocked, guilty, and unreadable—all at once.
Lyra closed the door of her room behind her and leaned against it for a moment, letting out a slow breath.
Nyx stirred gently within her.
You were strong tonight.
Lyra walked slowly toward the bathroom area of her chamber.
“I had to be,” she murmured quietly.
She refused to let the pack see weakness.
