Years.
Not months. Not weeks. Not even days. Just that single word, echoing inside Nyra’s head, sharp as shattered glass—digging in every time it looped back around. After a while, she wasn’t even sure what she believed anymore. Where disbelief let go and acceptance began. The years blurred into something she didn’t really want to look at.
And Kael Draven—the Lycan King—he said it like it was nothing. Calm. Like years only mattered to other people, not him.
Nyra just stood there in the rain, stunned. Her breath sounded too close, ragged. She couldn’t move, though every instinct told her she should. Even the storm faded around her, the thunder retreating, the rain sliding down her arms and face until she barely felt it.
But Kael didn’t move. He stayed right there, so close she almost le
