Mira’s POV.

The message reaches us two hours into our journey back to Windermere.

A Blackridge runner, breathless and urgent. "Luna Mira. Alpha Kael needs you to return immediately." My stomach drops before I know why. Cyrus pulls the vehicle over. "What happened?"

"One of the captured rogues is dying. Elder Theron." The runner's face is pale. "He has information about Lyra. About what happened six years ago." I'm out of the vehicle before he finishes. "Turn around." Cyrus doesn't argue. Just executes a sharp turn and floors it back toward Blackridge.

My hands shake in my lap. I press them together, try to steady my breathing. "It's probably nothing," Cyrus says, but his voice lacks conviction. "Don't." I can't handle false comfort right now. "Just drive." The two-hour journey back feels like six. Every minute stretches into agony.

What could Theron possibly know? He was supposedly dead. One of the Elders who "died" in a convenient accident years ago. But he was alive. Fighting with Lyra's forces. Keeping secrets. We arrive after dark. Kael meets us at the medical facility entrance, and one look at his face tells me everything.

Whatever Theron said, it's bad. "Is he still alive?" I ask. "No. He died three hours ago." Kael's voice is carefully controlled. "But we recorded everything." "And Lyra?" Cyrus asks. "Inside. With guards." Kael's eyes meet mine. "Mira, before you go in, you need to prepare yourself."

"For what?" My voice is sharper than I intend. Kael just shakes his head. "There's no way to prepare you. I'm sorry." He leads us to a small private room. Lyra sits against the far wall, knees drawn up, staring at nothing. She doesn't look up when we enter. "Lyra?" I move toward her, but she flinches.

"Don't." Her voice is hollow. "Just don't." Kael closes the door behind us. "You should sit." "I don't want to sit. I want to know what's happening." But I sit anyway because my legs suddenly feel weak.

Cyrus sits beside me. Kael remains standing, and I notice how carefully he's not looking at Cyrus. "Elder Theron was part of the original conspiracy six years ago," Kael begins. "The one that hid Lyra's existence." "We know that," I say impatiently.

"There's more." Kael takes a breath. "After I rejected you, you were attacked by rogues near the border." Everything in me goes still. I remember fragments of that night. Pain. Darkness. Waking up in Windermere. "You were pregnant. Dying. Cyrus brought you to his territory and contacted the Elders for help."

I look at Cyrus. His face has gone grey. "The child, our child, was born two months early from the trauma." Kael's voice is too careful. Too controlled. "I know," I say. "Lyra was premature. The healers said." "No." Kael cuts me off. "Mira. The child was stillborn." The words don't make sense. I heard them, but they won't arrange into meaning. "What?"

"Your baby, our baby, died. That night. Before drawing breath." The room tilts. I grip the edge of my chair to keep from falling. "That's not possible. Lyra is, " I look at her, but she won't meet my eyes. "Lyra isn't our biological daughter," Kael says quietly. "She's not mine. And she's not yours either."

The world stops. Just stops. "Explain." It's all I can manage. Kael does. Every word feels like a blade. The stillbirth. The Elders' conspiracy. A rogue woman who died in childbirth during a raid they orchestrated.

The switch. The lie. The manipulation. Cyrus knew. Cyrus agreed to it. I turn to look at him slowly. "You knew." "Mira, " He reaches for me. "You knew my baby died, and you gave me someone else's child instead."

"You were dying." His voice breaks. "Physically and mentally. The healers said you wouldn't survive the grief." "So, you lied to me." My voice is too calm. Dangerously calm. "For six years. You let me believe."

"I was trying to save you." Tears stream down his face. "I couldn't lose you, too." "Too?" I stand abruptly. "You lost nothing. I lost my child. And you took that grief from me. You took my right to mourn." "I gave you Lyra." He's pleading now. "I gave you a daughter to love."

"You gave me a lie." The words taste like poison. "Everything. Everything was a lie." I look at Lyra. She's still staring at nothing, and I realize she's processing this, too. "You knew?" I ask her. "Did you know?"

"I just found out." Her voice is dead. "Theron told us. Told me I'm nobody's child. A rogue orphan. A replacement for the real daughter you should have had."

"Lyra, " I move toward her. "Don't call me that." She finally looks at me, and her eyes are empty. "That's not even my real name. I don't know what my real name was. My mother died before they could ask."

"Your mother, " I start. "Was named Senna. A rogue with no pack. No family. She died, and they stole her baby to fix their political problem."

The clinical way she says it breaks something in me. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "Lyra, I'm so sorry." "For what?" She laughs, and it's a horrible sound. "You didn't know. You're as much a victim as I am." "I loved you." The words rush out. "I love you. That hasn't changed."

"Doesn't it?" She stands slowly. "I'm not your daughter. Not your blood. Not even Cyrus's." "I chose you. Every day. That was real." "You chose a lie." Lyra's voice rises. "You chose the child you thought was yours. Would you have chosen me if you'd known the truth?"

The question hangs in the air. I want to say yes immediately. But the hesitation, that split second, is enough. "That's what I thought." Lyra moves toward the door. "Where are you going?" Kael asks. "Away from all of you." She doesn't look back. "I need to be away from everyone who lied to me."

The guards let her pass. She's still technically in custody, but no one stops her. I sink back into the chair. Everything inside me is screaming, but no sound comes out. "There's more," Kael says quietly. "The grave. Your child's grave. Theron told us where it is."

"Show me." My voice doesn't sound like mine. "Mira, maybe you should wait. Process this first."

"Show me the grave." I stand. "Now."

Kael leads us through Blackridge to the eastern cemetery. The oak grove. An unmarked stone. I kneel in front of it. This is where my child has been for six years. Alone. Unnamed. While I raised someone else's baby. "Boy or girl?" I ask.

"Theron didn't say." Kael's voice is gentle. "I'm sorry." I press my hand against the stone. It's cold. Everything is cold. "I never got to hold you." The words spill out. "I never got to say goodbye. I never knew you existed." Cyrus is behind me. I can feel him there. But I can't look at him. "Mira." His voice is wrecked. "Please. Let me explain."

"Explain what?" I don't turn around. "That you thought lying was kinder than truth? That you stole my grief because you couldn't handle it?" "I was trying to protect you."

"You protected yourself." I finally stand, finally face him. "You couldn't handle losing me, so you made a choice. For both of us. Without asking."

"If I'd told you, you would have died." He's sobbing now. "The healers were certain. You were already dying from the physical trauma. The grief would have finished it."

"Then I should have died." The words are brutal, but I mean them. "That was my right. My choice. Not yours." "I couldn't let you go." He reaches for me again. I step back. "Don't touch me."

"Mira, please." "I need you to leave." My voice is flat. "Both of you. I need to be alone with my child." Kael nods and gently pulls Cyrus away. I hear them leave, hear their footsteps fade.

Then I'm alone. Me and an unmarked grave and six years of lies. I kneel again. Press both hands against the stone. "I'm sorry," I whisper to the child I never knew. "I'm so sorry I wasn't there. That I didn't know. That I couldn't mourn you properly."

The tears finally come. Six years late. But they come. I cry for the baby who died. For Lyra, who was stolen and used. For myself, robbed of truth and choice. For all of us, destroyed by people who thought they knew better.

The sun rises eventually. I'm still kneeling. Still crying. Still here. Kael returns at dawn. Doesn't speak. Just sits nearby. Bearing witness. "I don't know how to survive this," I finally say. "I don't either." His honesty helps somehow.

"My baby died. Lyra's not mine. Everything I built was a lie." "The love wasn't a lie." Kael's voice is quiet. "What you felt for Lyra, that was real." "Was it?" I look at him. "Or did I love her because I thought she was mine?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes." My voice breaks. "It matters to her." We sit in silence as the sun rises fully. My child lies beneath this stone. Lyra is somewhere in Blackridge, alone.