Mira’s POV

I return to Lyra's quarters two hours later. I need to see her, to find words that matter. The guards by the door look uneasy. One shifts his weight. "Luna, she's not." My stomach drops. "Not what?"

"She's gone. Left through the window during shift change." He won't meet my eyes. "We just discovered it."

I'm running before I decide to. Kael's office. He looks up as I burst in, reading my face. "What happened?"

"Lyra's gone. Escaped. We need to find her." My hands are shaking. "Now, Kael."

He's already moving, shouting orders to Marcus. "Organize search parties. Check the borders. She can't have gone far in her condition."

But I know better. I've seen what desperation can do. How far someone can run when they're trying to escape themselves. "I'm coming with you," I tell Kael. "Mira, you're injured. You need to."

"I said I'm coming." My voice leaves no room for argument. He nods once. "Then keep up." We head to the borders first. The guards on duty confirm what I feared. "A hooded figure crossed about two hours ago. Moved fast. We thought it was a messenger."

"Which direction?" Kael's voice is sharp. "Northeast. Into the deep forest." Kael curses. That territory is unmapped, dangerous. Wolves have died out there. Marcus arrives with a tracking team. "Her scent leads northeast. Trail is clear so far."

"Then we follow it." Kael shifts effortlessly, his Alpha form massive and dark. I shift too, ignoring the pain in my ribs. My wolf protests but obeys. We run. The search party fans out, following Lyra's scent through trees and underbrush. Her trail is erratic. She's not heading anywhere, just running. Stumbling. Desperate.

I've never tracked someone who was running from themselves before. The scent carries panic, grief, something close to madness. Marcus signals from ahead. "She fell here. Stayed down for a few minutes, then kept going."

We push deeper. The forest grows denser, older. This is territory even Blackridge doesn't patrol regularly. Her scent gets weaker. Not because she's farther ahead, but because she's fading. My wolf whines low in her throat. Even my animal side knows something's wrong.

We find blood on branches. Not much, but enough. She's been running through thorns, not caring about the damage. "She's hurting herself," Marcus says quietly. "Not intentionally. Just not stopping."

"How far can she go in her condition?" I ask, though I don't want the answer. "Not much farther." Kael shifted back to human to speak. "She was already weak from the collapse. Add hypothermia, exhaustion."

He doesn't finish. Doesn't need to. Night falls. We light torches, keep tracking. The search party spreads wider, calling her name. My voice is hoarse from shouting. "Lyra! Please! We just want to help!" Only silence answers. And that's somehow worse than anything.

We find where she collapsed a second time. The scent of fear is overwhelming here. "Something spooked her," Marcus says, examining the ground. "Cat, maybe. Mountain lion." My blood runs cold. "Did it attack?"

"No. See the tracks? It circled but didn't engage." He points. "Another wolf scared it off."

"There are no other wolves out here," Kael says. "Rogue, maybe. Or someone from another territory." Marcus looks troubled. "Either way, she was vulnerable. Could have died right here." But she didn't. She managed to get up somehow and kept going.

We find her final collapse just before dawn. She's curled against a fallen log, pale as death. Marcus sees her first. "Found her! She's alive. Barely."

I'm there in seconds, shifting back, dropping to my knees beside her. "Lyra. Lyra, can you hear me?" Her eyes are open but unfocused. Staring at nothing. Through nothing. Kael kneels on her other side. "Lyra. We're taking you back. You need medical attention."

She shakes her head weakly. Tries to pull away. Can't. "I don't... belong..." The words are barely audible. "That's not for you to decide right now," Kael says firmly. He lifts her carefully. She's so light. Too light. Like she's already half-gone.

I drape my coat over her. "Lyra, please. Say something." She doesn't. Just stares at the sky as we start walking back. Someone offers her water. She doesn't react. Doesn't blink. "She's in shock," Marcus says quietly. "Severe exposure. Possible hypothermia."

"Will she be okay?" My voice cracks." Physically? Maybe. But this." He gestures at her empty expression. "This is something else."

We walk for hours. I stay close, watching her face for any sign of consciousness. She's breathing. That's all. Just breathing. Nothing behind her eyes. "Lyra, I'm here." I touch her hand. Cold as ice. "I'm right here. We're going home."

No response. Not even a flicker. "She can't hear you," Kael says gently. "She's gone somewhere we can't reach." "Then we bring her back," I say, as if it's simple. Like will alone can fix this. But I know better. I've been where she is. After Kael rejected me. After I lost everything.

I remember that emptiness. That place where nothing matters because nothing feels real. I came back from it. But I had Cyrus. Had Lyra, or thought I did. Who does Lyra have? A mother who admitted she doesn't know if she'd have loved her the same. A father who lied for six years. An Alpha who's nothing to her.

She has no one. And she knows it. "We should move faster," Marcus suggests. "She needs warmth. Fluids. Medical attention."

"I know." But Kael doesn't speed up. "If we jostle her too much in this state." He doesn't finish. We all understand. She's holding on by a thread. We emerge from the forest as the sun rises fully. Blackridge ahead. Safety. Help.

Lyra's eyes are closed now. I panic for a moment until I see her chest rising. "She's sleeping," Kael says. "Or unconscious. Hard to tell."

Healers rush to meet us at the city entrance. They try to take her from Kael. "Where are you taking her?" I demand. "Medical facility. She needs immediate treatment for exposure."

"I'm coming with her." Not a request.

They don't argue. Maybe they see something in my face that tells them not to try. They lay her on a bed, wrap her in heated blankets, and start an IV. Her vitals are weak but stable.

"She should recover physically," the head healer says. "But the psychological state."

"I know." I sit beside her bed. "Just make sure she lives." Kael stands at the door. "I'll post guards. In case she tries to run again."

"She's not running anywhere." I look at her pale face, her closed eyes. "She's already as far away as someone can get." He leaves. Marcus leaves. The healers leave.

I stay.

I hold her hand, still so cold, and I talk to her. Quietly. About nothing. About everything. "I don't know if you can hear me. I don't know if you want to." My voice is steady somehow. "But I'm not leaving. Not this time."

"I told you I don't know if I would have loved you the same if I'd known the truth." The admission still hurts. "That was honest. But it was also incomplete."

I squeeze her hand gently. "Because the truth is, I love you now. The you that exists right now. Not the daughter I thought you were. You. Lyra. Whatever your name should be."

No response. I didn't expect one.

"And I know you don't believe that. Maybe you never will." I'm crying now. "But I'm going to be here anyway. I'm going to choose you anyway. Every day. Until you believe it or until you tell me to leave."

"Because that's what love is. Not biology. Not destiny. Choice. Repeated choice." Her fingers twitch in mine. So slight I almost miss it. "Lyra?" I lean closer. "Can you hear me?" Nothing. Maybe I imagined it. But I keep talking anyway. Keep holding her hand. Keep choosing her.

Blackridge continues rebuilding. I try to rebuild something, trust, truth, and love without lies. I’m not sure if it's possible. I’m unsure if she'll let me try. But I'm here. That's the only truth I have left to give her.