Lyra stirred beneath stiff sheets, her throat raw, lips cracked, limbs aching as though she'd been dragged through fire and ice all at once.
The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to the air. Her eyelids fluttered open, heavy and dry, only to be blinded by the harsh light in the room.
She tried to sit up but quickly gave up the idea as pain shot through her torso like knives, forcing her to fall back with a sharp gasp.
Her arms trembled, bruised with the red marks on her porcelain white skin, a clear reminder that she had been to the depths of hell and back.
She wasn't safe.
A whimper escaped her lips, unbidden. Then came the memory. Flashes.
The snarling faces. The grabbing hands. The sound of her screams that were drowned out by the night. Her desperate escape attempt. The betrayal, her parents' demise.
Her innocence lost – in the most gruesome way.
Then... nothing.
She blinked away tears, the ceiling above her wobbling with the weight of her anguish. Her breathing grew shallow, panicked.
"Lyra," came a soft voice to her right. "You're awake…"
A familiar face stood by her bedside, her eyes filled with that mix of pity and worry. The lady stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on her arm.
"You're awake," she said softly.
Awake? She wanted to die.
Lyra turned her head away, eyes trained on the far wall. Something cold and hollow curled in her chest as eyes burned. Hot tears spilling uncontrollably.
Her mind drifted—but to something purer. Older. Warmer.
Her parents.
Her mother's soft voice, as she sang while baking in the kitchen. Her father's strong when he embraced her. The way her mother would brush her hair some nights, whispering, "You're stronger than you know."
Now, they were gone. Obliterated. To an attack so brutal and without meaning.
Her parents were good people. Her pack was peaceful. They didn't deserve to be attacked, burnt, raped, and murdered.
And here she was, broken and helpless, trying to hold on to memories that were slipping like sand through her fingers.
She had failed them.
And now her body bore the cost.
Her eyes drifted to her side—IV lines taped to her skin, wires looping to a monitor. She looked smaller somehow. Fragile. A shell of her bubbly self.
Gone were the days of naivety. Strange how it felt like a long time ago.
She would never remain the same -
She struggled to sit up again, gritting her teeth as pain radiated through her ribs. The lady moved quickly, pressing her gently back.
"Easy. Your body's still healing," she said.
"How long…?" Lyra rasped.
"It's been six days. You lost unconscious when-' She hesitated. "You lost a lot of blood, suffered some fractures."
Six days.
She had been her six days, exposed, and vulnerable.
She clenched her fists, despite the pain. "Who… brought me here?"
The nurse blinked, hesitating again. "A group of guards on Alpha Ryker's orders."
The name sent a shockwave through Lyra's spine. Her breath caught in her throat.
Alpha Ryker.
The beast that attacked her pack and home. The one who had captured her and paraded her as a slave. The one who ordered the hostile takeover of her body, who caused her to lose her innocence in the most ruthless and barbaric way—He watched with eyes like frost, lips curled in something that could never be mistaken for mercy.
"Why?" she choked. "Why would he save me when he did this to me?"
The lady frowned. "I have no idea. Orders came from high up. You've been under close surveillance, but the doctors were instructed to treat you well since you weren't healing."
"You don't have a wolf?" she asked
Lyra looked at her hands and didn't utter a word.
She looks up at the lady again. "Now I remember you. You helped me up in the hall when I couldn't move. Thank you, I don't remember thanking you." She says softly
"It's okay. I'm Nessa." Nessa offered her a warm smile.
"You need rest—"
"No. I'm not safe here. He's not saving me—he's going to hurt me again." She then grabs Nessa's arm. "Please help me out of here, I beg you."
The nurse looked uneasy. "I'll… let me get the pack doctor—"
But Lyra wasn't listening anymore. Her vision blurred again—not from tears this time, but from panic.
She remembered Ryker's face as she begged for mercy and cried for all the help in the world.
He hadn't needed to touch her to terrify her. His presence had been dreadful enough.
She had thought death would come that night.
Since it never came, she was doomed to experience hell.
Nessa suddenly left the room quietly, but Lyra didn't notice a she was lost in her thoughts.
She suddenly sat up, ignoring the pain.
Her eyes scanned the room, then froze.
The door to her room creaked open an inch.
She held her breath.
Silence.
Then… footsteps. Measured. Heavy.
They were unfamiliar. Yet somehow, she knew.
Her stomach dropped. She pushed herself back onto the bed, clutching the sheets to her chest.
A shadow appeared in the doorway, tall and broad. A presence that seemed to suck all the air from the room.
Then he stepped inside.
Alpha Ryker.
Clad in black. Cold eyes scanning the room. That same smirk curving his lips.
"Well," he said, voice smooth like silk over steel, "look who finally woke up."
Lyra's throat closed.
She wanted to run. To fight. To scream.
But all she could do was whisper shakily, "Why are you here?"
Ryker stepped closer. Slowly. Like a predator that knew its prey had nowhere to go.
"To make sure you never die," he said. "You can only die when I allow it."
"What?" She quivered fearfully.
His smile deepened.
"You belong to me."
A quiet gasp escapes her.
"You animal." She cried. "You evil monster- murderer!"
The muscle in his jawline twitched. His eyes blazed angrily.
"Murderer, you say' he snarled, coming close to her suddenly. His face, too close for comfort. 'Your father killed my parents, wiped out my pack-
He stretched to his full length to rein in his anger as his eyes blazed.
"Lief' he called out. Escort the princess outside. We would show her what it's like to be an animal." He snarled and walked out.