Lyra's POV
Tears streamed down my face, relentless and warm as they fell from my eyes, unable to stop despite my best efforts to fight them. Marcello’s grip on my hand was firm, almost cruel in its insistence. His fingers were tight around mine, as though he was trying to brand me with his touch. Every second felt like an eternity as his words echoed in my mind, mocking me, trapping me in a cage I couldn’t escape.
“I’m your mate, Lyra. You’ll accept me, whether you like it or not.”
The words themselves were a poison, dripping from his lips like venom, and yet, I couldn’t do anything to stop them. My heart raced with fury, the beating of my chest a constant reminder of the life I was supposed to live before this nightmare. His cold, commanding gaze bore into mine, and the heat of the mom
