Cyrus 's POV

I haven't slept. Can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see Mira's face when Kael told her the truth. The moment everything I built was shattered. The guards outside my door are a courtesy, Kael said. But we both know what they really are.

Dawn breaks through the window. I watch the light spread across Blackridge and wonder if this is the last sunrise I'll see as a free man. The door opens. Mira stands there, and I've never seen her look like this. Not angry. Not devastated. Cold. "Mira. Thank god. I thought you wouldn't."

"Sit down." Her voice could cut steel. I sit. She remains standing, and I understand. She needs the power right now. I took it from her once. She's taking it back. "I listened to the recording. All of it."

"Then you know I was trying to."

"I said sit down and be quiet." She's never used this tone with me. "You'll speak when I tell you to." My mouth closes. Fear moves through me, cold and sharp. "When you found me that night, was I conscious?"

"Barely. In and out. You kept saying 'the baby, save the baby.'" The memory still haunts me. "And did you try? To save my baby?"

"Of course. But the healers said."

"What did the healers say exactly?" I force myself to be precise. "That the trauma was too severe. The baby came too early. There was no heartbeat."

"Did you see the body?" The question is clinical. She's detached herself from the emotion. I flinch. "Yes. Briefly. Before they took it away."

The image is burned into my memory. So small. So still. I had to look away. "When did the Elders approach you with their plan?"

"That same night. While you were unconscious, recovering from emergency surgery."

"And you agreed? Immediately?"

"No." My voice breaks. "No, I fought them. I said you deserved the truth."

"But?" She already knows there's a but.

"But they brought three healers who all said the same thing: telling you would kill you." I'm pleading now. "Your body was hanging on by a thread. Your mind was already fractured."

"So, you chose for me."

"I chose you." The distinction matters to me, even if it doesn't to her. "I chose your life."

"When I woke up, how long after the birth was it?"

"Three days. You were in and out of consciousness for three days."

"And when you handed me Lyra, told me she was my daughter, how did I react?" I close my eyes. This memory is worse somehow. "You cried. But they were happy tears. Relief. You held her and said, 'My baby, my baby lived.'"

The joy on her face. The way she looked at me with such gratitude. Like I'd saved her world. I had destroyed it. But she didn't know that yet. "And you let me believe it. Watched me bond with her. Watched me love her."

"You were healing," I say desperately. "Physically and emotionally. You were getting stronger."

"When were you going to tell me?"

The silence stretches. I have no good answer.

"When, Cyrus?"

"I don't know." The admission costs everything. "At first, I told myself that when you were stronger."

"And then?"

"Then it became, when Lyra was older. When you were both stable." I'm unraveling now. "Then I convinced myself it didn't matter. That you loved her. That she was yours in every way that counted."

"Keep going."

"I told myself I was protecting you both. That the truth would only hurt." My voice cracks. "But really? Really, I was protecting myself."

"Finally. Some honesty."

"I couldn't bear to lose you. And I knew if I told you, you'd leave." The tears come now. "So I kept the secret. Weeks became months. Months became years."

"And?"

"And I knew it was wrong. Every day I knew." I'm sobbing now, can't stop. "But the longer I waited, the worse it became. The harder to confess."

"Until it felt impossible. Until the lie became the foundation of everything."

She's not asking. She's narrating my cowardice back to me.

"I'm a coward. I know that. I've always known."

"Did you love her?" Mira asks. "Lyra. Did you actually love her?"

"Yes." No hesitation. "From the moment I held her. She was my daughter."

"But you knew she wasn't mine. Every time I called her my daughter, you knew it was a lie."

"I convinced myself it was true enough. That love made it true." Mira's laugh is bitter. "You told everyone you were her biological father. Was that also a lie?" My blood turns to ice. "Mira."

"Answer me."

"I... there was a night. After the birth. I was desperate, grieving, and you needed, " I can't finish. "So you're not her biological father either?" The truth sits between us like a corpse. "No. I mean, maybe. It's possible but unlikely. The timing was."

"Stop." She holds up a hand. "Just stop lying." I stop. There's nothing left to say anyway. "Why tell people you were her father?"

"To explain her existence. To give her legitimacy in Windermere." I force myself to meet her eyes. "And to bind you to me. If we shared a child, you'd never leave." Her face doesn't change. She already knew.

"Does Windermere know? Your council? Your pack?" "They believe Lyra is my biological daughter. Our daughter." "Another lie. Built on lies. Sustained by lies." I can't defend it. Won't try.

"What happened to my baby's body?" The question destroys me. "The Elders took it. Said they'd handle the burial. I didn't ask questions."

"You didn't ask?" Her voice rises for the first time. "You didn't think to ensure my child had a proper burial?" "I was focused on saving you. Everything else was secondary."

"They buried my baby in an unmarked grave. No name. No ceremony. No acknowledgment." Her voice shakes with rage. "While you watched me celebrate Lyra's first birthday. Her first words. Her first shift." I have no defense. She's right. About all of it.

"You watched me love her. Every day for six years." Mira's shaking now. "You watched me bond with her. Sacrifice for her. Build my entire life around being her mother."

"Yes."

"And you knew. Every single moment, you knew it was built on a corpse." The words hit like physical blows. I deserve everyone. "You didn't save me, Cyrus. You stole from me."

"I know."

"You stole my grief. My right to mourn. My chance to bury my child properly." She's not yelling. Somehow that's worse. "You stole six years of truth. And you stole Lyra's right to know who she really was."

"I'm sorry." It's pathetic. Insufficient. But it's all I have. "Did you ever actually love me? Or did you just love having me?" The question cuts deepest because I don't know the answer. "I love you. I've always loved you."

"No." She shakes her head. "You loved the version of me you created. The one who believed your lies."

"That's not."

"You loved having control. Having someone grateful to you for 'saving' them." The truth of it hits me. She's right. I loved being her savior. Her protector. The one she needed.

"That's not love, Cyrus. That's possession." I have nothing. No argument. No defense. Just tears that mean nothing. "Here's what's going to happen." Her voice is steel. "You're going to provide written testimony about everything."

I nod.

"Every Elder is involved. Every healer. Every detail."

"Yes."

"You're going to cooperate fully with whatever investigation Blackridge conducts."

"I will."

"And then you're going to leave. Go back to Windermere. Address your council." She pauses. "Tell them what you did. Face whatever consequences they decide."

"Mira, please."

"You don't get to decide what's best for me anymore. You don't get to 'protect' me from truth."

"But Lyra, she needs."

"Don't you dare." The fury returns. "Don't use her to manipulate me." I close my mouth. "She needs stability. Truth. People who won't lie to her." Mira's eyes are ice. "Right now, you're not one of those people."

She leaves without a word. Alone, I realize my fear cost me everything. My need to protect destroyed what mattered most. The truth is, I broke the lives I loved by refusing to let go.

Saving Mira’s life came at the price of her trust, choice, and truth. I destroyed those things and now must face the consequences I created.

The guards came to escort me to the border an hour later. I don't resist. As we leave Blackridge, I look back once. Somewhere in that city is the woman I love and the daughter I raised.

Both of them are better off without me. That's the truth I should have faced six years ago. Instead, I face it now, when it's too late to matter.