Mira’s POV

I was awake. Not fully physically, but aware. I felt every movement in the room. Heard every voice. My body didn’t respond. My eyelids didn’t flutter. But I was in there, watching, listening, burning.

Kael hadn’t left. He spoke rarely now. Just watched. Sat. Waited. Lyra had given up talking to me directly. Now she spoke to the healers. Orders. Concerns. Warnings. “She’s not stable,” one said.

“She’s holding, but not healing,” another added. “She won’t unless we undo the mark,” Lyra reminded. No one argued. But no one knew how.

The third mark pulsed beneath everything. Not just a seal. A conflict. A contradiction. Two bonds are pulling in opposite directions. And a third force, silencing the middle. My wolf was still gone. Not sleeping. Not hiding.

Gone.

I tried to scream again. I tried to twitch. I tried to move a finger. Nothing. They thought I was lost. Kael sat close that night. His hand touched mine. I felt the heat, the guilt, the weight of everything he hadn’t said. It soaked through him like sweat.

He muttered, “I know you can’t hear me. Or maybe you can. I don’t care. I need to say it.” He exhaled slowly.

“The day I took the oath, they said you wouldn’t survive the next battle. They offered me a way out. Said I could save you if I gave them something small. A detail. A link.” He paused. “I gave them your blood. Just a sample. They said it was for tracking. I thought it would help find you if you were taken. I didn’t know.”

He pulled away. “I should’ve told you. I should’ve told someone.” Silence followed. But I heard his shame. I swallowed it. Cyrus entered minutes later. He didn’t greet Kael. He never did. “I found something,” Cyrus said. Kael didn’t look at him. Cyrus continued. “The mark isn’t suppression. It’s alignment. They’re trying to turn her into something else.”

“Explain,” Kael snapped. Cyrus dropped a cloth pouch on the table. It spilled out blackened herbs and fragments of crystal. “They used an identity override. Old blood magic. The mark isn’t passive. It’s feeding on her emotions. Her wolf. Her instincts. Every time she fights back, it grows stronger.”

Kael stood. “Then we remove it.”

“We can’t. Not without killing her.” Lyra stepped in. “She’s not dead,” she said. “But she’s close to fading.” Kael stared at Cyrus. “Did you let this happen?” Cyrus didn’t flinch. “Did you?” They both looked at me. Neither spoke nor

denied it.

The next day, Lyra gathered the healers. She explained the process. One would go in. Enter my subconscious. Find the root of the mark. Understand it. Try to weaken it. Maybe communicate with me.

No one volunteered.

Too dangerous. Too unstable. Lyra stepped forward herself. Kael and Cyrus said nothing. The ritual began in silence. Lyra’s hand touched my temple. She breathed once. Her energy sank into mine. My body twitched.

Then I saw her, inside. She was walking through my memory scene. Frozen moments. My training ground. The seer’s hut. Kael’s arms were around me during the last battle. Cyrus’s back as he left me the first time.

She whispered my name. I heard it. I turned. But I was chained. My wolf stood behind me. Shackled. Silent. Lyra stepped forward. “I’m here to help,” she said. I opened my mouth. No sound came. Behind her, the cloaked figure emerged. He watched her. He didn’t speak. He lifted a hand. A wave of shadow knocked her back.

She screamed. Blood poured from her nose. “You don’t belong here,” the figure said. “This isn’t your mind.” Lyra reached for me. Her hand brushed mine. And she vanished. I was alone again. Back in the silence. Back in the paralysis. Voices returned. “She’s bleeding,” one dealer said. “Pull her out.”

“She’s not waking.” Lyra gasped. Choked. Collapsed. Kael caught her. Cyrus shouted something. Chaos erupted. “She saw it,” Lyra managed. “She’s awake. But she’s trapped. The mark has formed a second identity inside her. A shell version of her. It’s fighting to become the dominant one.”

“She’s splitting,” Kael said. “No,” Lyra corrected. “She’s being overwritten.” The words echoed in my mind. I wanted to move. I wanted to fight. But the chains in my mindscape remained.

The next day passed in silence. Kael sat. Cyrus left and returned. Lyra stayed unconscious. Then Kael whispered again. “You trusted me.”

I felt it. Sharp. Real. “You picked me. Even when I gave you reasons not to.” He paused. “And I never earned it. I never told you how much I failed you. Before the war. During. After.”

He leaned forward.

“You need to come back. Because if you don’t, I’ll never forgive myself. And Cyrus will destroy everything just to feel something.” I felt the flicker of my wolf. Weak. But present.

It wasn’t enough. Cyrus returned the next evening. He said nothing for a long time. Then: “She loved both of us. That’s the truth.” Kael didn’t respond. “And we both broke her.” Kael stood. “What are you planning?” Cyrus faced him. “To undo what we caused.”

“You can’t fix it alone.”

“Neither can you.” They left the room. I was alone. That night, I remembered something else. A childhood memory. A healer once told my mother I was born under a fractured moon. It was rare. Dangerous. It meant I’d always be pulled in different directions. Never fully one thing. Never whole.

Maybe this was always going to happen, as they didn’t break me, and I was born broken. But I didn’t believe that, not yet. Something still burned inside me. I focused everything on one thought. “Break the Mark.’’

My fingers twitched. Only once. No one saw it. But I did. I was still in here. I was still mine. The next chapter would begin with that single movement. And someone would realize, I was coming back.