The air between them was thick with tension, the silence so oppressive that Lyra could feel it pressing against her chest. Kael's fingers gripped her chin, his gaze piercing, burning into her like a brand. His touch wasn't cruel, but the intensity of his hold made her feel like she was trapped in a vice.
Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat louder than the last as she struggled to find words, to explain herself, to defuse the cold rage simmering just beneath the surface of his expression.
"You thought you could just run?" Kael's voice was low, controlled, but each word carried the weight of a storm. "After everything I've done to keep you safe, you try to leave me?"
"I didn't—" she started, her voice trembling. "I wasn't safe here, Kael. Marcus, the pack
"I'm the one who decides if you're safe," he interrupted, his grip tightening slightly, forcing her to look up at him. His eyes were sharp, cold, but there was something deeper there, something darker. "I gave you protection, and you repay me with betrayal?"
Lyra swallowed hard, her throat dry as fear clawed its way up her spine. She had never seen him this angry—not with her. His fury had always been controlled, measured. But tonight, there was a dangerous edge to it, an unpredictable quality that made her heart race.
"I didn't ask for your protection," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I never wanted any of this."
Kael's lips twitched into a cruel smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You didn't want it?" he mocked. "What a shame. Because now, it's not a choice."
He let go of her chin, stepping back just enough to let her breathe, but not enough to release the invisible noose he had wrapped around her throat. She could still feel the weight of his control, his dominance, suffocating her.
"You'll never leave me, Lyra," he said softly, the menace in his voice unmistakable. "No matter how hard you try. You're bound to me now."
Lyra's heart skipped a beat, her body rigid with fear. The possessiveness in his words, the finality—it was overwhelming, drowning her in a sea of helplessness. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to fight him, but her body was frozen, her mind spinning in circles of fear and confusion.
Kael watched her closely, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he took in the way she trembled, the way her breaths came in shallow, panicked bursts. "Do you understand now?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft. "Do you see that you can't escape me?"
Lyra forced herself to hold his gaze, her pulse racing. "I'll never be yours."
Kael's eyes narrowed, his smile fading into something colder. "You will. Sooner or later, you will."
Before she could respond, Kael grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the door. His grip was firm but not painful, his control absolute as he led her through the corridors of the stronghold. She didn't resist, too dazed by the confrontation to put up a fight. Her mind was reeling, her body numb with fear and frustration.
They walked in silence, the stone walls of the fortress seeming to close in around her as they moved deeper into its heart. Lyra's thoughts raced, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. Kael's possessiveness, his obsession—it had always been there, lurking beneath the surface, but now it was out in the open, undeniable. She had thought she could outsmart him, that she could find a way to escape, but now...
Now she realized just how deeply she was trapped.
Kael led her through a narrow passageway, the torchlight flickering against the walls, casting long, distorted shadows. Lyra's heart pounded in her chest, the sense of dread growing with every step.
Finally, they reached a door she hadn't seen before. It was heavy, reinforced with iron, and the air around it felt colder, thicker.
Without a word, Kael opened the door and pushed her inside.
Lyra stumbled slightly, catching herself on the rough stone wall as the door slammed shut behind her. She whirled around, her breath catching in her throat as she realized where she was.
It wasn't a cell.
It was a room—a small, windowless chamber with only a single bed and a few sparse pieces of furniture. The walls were bare, the air stale, and the only light came from a flickering torch mounted on the wall.
Kael crossed the room, his gaze never leaving her as he moved toward the bed. "You'll stay here from now on," he said, his voice calm, but there was a coldness to it that sent shivers down her spine.
Lyra blinked, her mind racing. "Why?"
Kael sat down on the edge of the bed, his eyes dark with intent. "You're no longer a prisoner. But you're not free, either. This is where you'll stay—where I can keep an eye on you."
Lyra's stomach twisted. She didn't know what was worse—being trapped in the cell or being watched by Kael at every moment, knowing he could come for her whenever he wanted.
Her legs trembled, and she fought to keep her voice steady. "I won't stay here willingly."
Kael's lips curled into a slow smile, one that sent a wave of unease crashing over her. "You don't have to be willing," he said softly. "You just have to obey."
Lyra's pulse quickened, her mind spinning. The walls of the room seemed to close in around her, the air growing heavier, more oppressive. She could feel the weight of Kael's gaze, the darkness in his eyes, and she knew—there would be no escape from this.
Not now.
Not ever.
The Outer Courtyard (Marcus's POV)
Marcus paced the length of the courtyard, his mind churning with rage. He had waited long enough, played Kael's game, but this—this was too much. The Alpha had grown weak, obsessed with his little pet, and now the pack was starting to notice.
It was only a matter of time before they turned on Kael. And when that happened, Marcus would be ready.
His lips curled into a sneer as he thought of Lyra. She was the key to all of this, whether she realized it or not. Kael's fixation on her had left him vulnerable, distracted. Marcus had seen the way the other wolves whispered among themselves, had heard the murmurs of discontent growing louder with every day that Kael spent doting on his little captive.
And Marcus knew how to use that to his advantage.
He had already started planting the seeds of doubt, turning the pack against their Alpha, subtly at first, but it was working. The wolves respected power, and Kael's obsession with Lyra made him look weak. It wouldn't be long before the pack came to Marcus, looking for a new leader—one who wasn't blinded by a girl.
Marcus smirked to himself, the cold night air biting at his skin as he continued his pacing. The plan was already in motion, and soon, Kael would be out of the way. All he had to do was wait for the right moment to strike.
And when that moment came, Marcus would take everything.
He glanced toward the stronghold, his thoughts lingering on Lyra. She had become a complication, yes, but also an opportunity. If Kael thought he could keep her, he was mistaken. She didn't belong to him—not yet.
Marcus's eyes gleamed with dark intent. Lyra would be his, one way or another. And once Kael was out of the picture, there would be no one left to protect her.