Chapter 33
[Seraphina’s Place]
Lyra checked her reflection one last time before stepping out.
She looked normal, presentable and like someone heading to work and not someone whose life had quietly tilted off its axis.
Rogan stood near the door, arms crossed, watching her lace her shoes.
“You have your phone?” he asked.
“Yes p>
“And you are not staying late p>
“I won’t,” she promised.
He hesitated, then nodded. “Text me when you reach p>
“I will p>
The door closed behind her and the cool morning air hit her face. Lyra inhaled deeply, grounding herself as she started down the street.
For the first time in two days, the city felt familiar again.
Halfway to the main road, her phone buzzed.
It was Mira.
Lyra answered immediately. “Hey p>
“Oh thank God,” Mira breathed out. “You are alive p>
Lyra smiled faintly. “Barely p>
“Seriously, how are you feeling?” Mira asked. “Jacob was worried, we all were p>
“I am okay,” Lyra said. “Just needed a day p>
“So you are coming in today?” Mira asked carefully.
“Yes p>
Mira actually laughed. “Oh thank God, I need you p>
Lyra frowned. “For what p>
“That reconciliation file you were helping me with,” Mira said. “The one with the vendor breakdown. You saved it locally, remember p>
Lyra slowed to a stop.
“I—” She closed her eyes briefly. “I think I left it in my apartment p>
There was a pause. “Can you get it p>
Lyra looked ahead, toward the street that would take her straight to work.
Then she turned slightly, eyes drifting toward the opposite direction to her apartment.
“I can,” she said after a moment. “I will grab it and come straight in p>
“You are a lifesaver,” Mira said instantly. “I owe you coffee or lunch or both p>
Lyra smiled. “We will see p>
She hung up.
For a second, she stood there, phone still in her hand, unease curling quietly in her chest. Rogan’s voice echoed faintly in her mind, don’t take detours but this wasn’t a detour.
It was practical and necessary and she was tired of letting fear make decisions for her.
Lyra turned around.
She just walked toward her apartment, unaware that this small decision had placed her directly back on a path that was already waiting for her.
[Kaelen’s Penthouse]
Kaelen hadn’t slept.
He stood by the window of his penthouse, the city stretched beneath him in pale morning light, glass and steel waking slowly below. From this height, everything looked orderly and controlled.
But he felt none of it.
There was a restlessness under his skin that hadn’t been there last night.
Kaelen rolled his shoulders once, jaw tightening. He had trained himself for centuries of instinctual noise, this was different.
This was sharp, focused like something tugging at him without touching.
He turned away from the window.
“Get me an update,” he said.
His assistant, already seated at the desk across the room, looked up instantly. “On p>
Kaelen hesitated.
“Lyra Hale,” he said finally. “Is she in yet p>
The assistant’s fingers moved across the tablet, his expression neutral, efficient.
A few seconds passed, then a few more.
Kaelen’s unease deepened.
“No,” the assistant said at last. “She hasn’t logged in, no badge scan, no system access p>
Kaelen nodded once, as if that meant something. As if it settled anything.
“Thank you,” he said. “You can go p>
The assistant hesitated briefly, then stood and left, the door closing softly behind him.
Kaelen remained still.
’She is just late,’ he told himself but those excuses sounded hollow even to him.
The restlessness sharpened, sliding lower in his chest, spreading through his limbs like static.
Every instinct he had, the Alpha, wolf, curse or not was pointing in one direction—to go and find her.
He clenched his fists.
“I said I would stay away,” he muttered to the empty room.
Staying away was the responsible choice, the safe one. He had made that decision for a reason.
And yet—
Kaelen exhaled sharply, already moving.
The decision wasn’t conscious, it never was.
Minutes later, the elevator doors slid shut behind him.
As the penthouse disappeared from view, the unease didn’t fade, if anything, it sharpened because Lyra hadn’t reached work yet and Kaelen Blackthorn was done pretending that it didn’t matter.
[Rogan’s Apartment]
The door closed behind Lyra with a soft click and she paused.
Something was off.
There was a faint stillness that didn’t belong. The apartment felt colder than it should have, the air too heavy, like it had been waiting.
Lyra frowned but shook it off.
She dropped her bag on the chair and walked toward her bedroom to grab the file.
The floor creaked softly beneath her steps.
She reached her room and crossed toward the desk when—
“You really should lock your door p>
Lyra froze, her heart slammed so hard it stole her breath.
When she turned slowly, a man stood near the doorway.
She hadn’t heard him enter, she hadn’t heard anything.
He was tall and unnaturally still, his skin pale in a way that didn’t look human. His eyes gleamed faintly, sharp and knowing, as if he were looking through her instead of at her.
“What—” Lyra swallowed. “Who are you? What are you doing in my apartment p>
The man smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Oh,” he said softly, circling her like a predator testing its prey. “You don’t recognize me, that’s adorable p>
Lyra backed up a step, her pulse roaring in her ears. “Get out, now p>
He laughed, low, bitter, amused.
“Such a powerful aura,” he murmured. “And you don’t even know it p>
Her stomach dropped.
“How did Rogan manage to hide you all these years?” he continued, voice curious now. “How did the Shadowed Ones not know you were still alive p>
Lyra’s blood ran cold.
“You are insane,” she said, forcing steadiness into her voice. “Leave p>
The man tilted his head. “I always knew werewolves were stupid p>
Before Lyra could react, he moved.
One moment he was across the room and the next, he was inches from her.
She gasped, shock locking her body in place.
He lifted a hand slowly, almost reverently, and brushed his fingers along her cheek.
Lyra flinched.
“You look just like her,” he whispered. “Gemma. Same eyes, same aura p>
Her breath trembled. “Don’t touch me p>
His smile widened and his fangs slid into view, sharp, pale and deadly.
“Well,” he murmured, leaning closer, breath cold against her skin, “let’s see if you bleed like p>
Before he could finish the sentence, in a blur of motion, a hand closed around his throat with brutal force.
The vampire was yanked backward and hurled across the room like a ragdoll.
His body slammed into the wall with a sickening crack, plaster exploding outward as he crumpled to the floor.
Lyra screamed.
Her legs finally gave out and she staggered back, landing straight into a solid chest.
Strong arms caught her before she could fall.
The air shifted.
The presence behind her was overwhelming, furious, controlled only by force of will.
The man lifted his head slowly, eyes glowing with restrained violence as he stared at the broken figure on the floor.
Kaelen Blackthorn had arrived.
And whoever had come for Lyra had made a very fatal mistake.