LYRA

I did not sleep.

Not when the healers forced me out. Not when the sun rose and flooded the pack house in soft gold that felt completely undeserved. Not even when my body finally gave up and slumped against the wall outside Lucian’s room.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him.

Broken. Bloodied. Still.

And every time, the bond reacted like it had all over again.

Wrong.

I dragged a hand down my face and exhaled slowly, trying to steady myself. The corridor was quiet now. Too quiet. The ...