Chapter 10

The air between them crackled with an unspoken tension as Kaelen stood in the clearing, his silver eyes fixed on Lyra. The Alpha King's commanding presence was impossible to ignore, and yet, it wasn't what made her wolf stir uneasily in the back of her mind. No, it was something deeper, something intangible—the faintest whisper of a connection that Lyra refused to acknowledge.

She shifted her weight, her arms crossed tightly over her chest as if to shield herself from the bond she didn't want to feel. "If you're looking for a healer, you've found one," she said, her voice clipped. "But I'm not part of your pack, and I don't take orders from you."

Kaelen raised an eyebrow, his expression calm but laced with a quiet intensity. "I'm not here to give you orders, Lyra. I'm here because I believe our paths were meant to cross."

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest at his words, and she cursed the warmth that spread through her at the sound of her name on his lips. There was something in the way he said it—soft, almost reverent—that made her want to run as far away as possible. But running hadn't solved anything before, and she doubted it would now.

"I don't believe in fate," she said sharply, more to herself than to him. "And even if I did, it hasn't exactly been kind to me."

Kaelen's gaze softened, and he took a step closer. The movement was slow, measured, as though he were approaching a wounded animal. And in many ways, she supposed, he was. "Fate isn't always kind," he said quietly. "But it doesn't make it any less real."

Lyra clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought the pull she felt toward him. It wasn't just his presence—it was the way her wolf reacted to him, the way her instincts screamed at her to move closer, to let him in. But she couldn't. Not after everything she'd been through.

"Stop," she said abruptly, her voice trembling despite her best efforts. "Whatever this is, I don't want it."

Kaelen stopped in his tracks, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he said nothing, and Lyra braced herself for anger, for frustration, for the same rejection she had felt before. But when he spoke, his tone was calm, steady.

"I'm not asking you to want it, Lyra," he said. "But I won't ignore it, and I don't think you should either."

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "It's easy for you to say that. You don't know what it's like to—" Her voice caught, and she turned away, unwilling to let him see the tears that burned at the corners of her eyes.

"To be rejected?" Kaelen finished for her, his voice quiet but firm. Lyra froze, her breath hitching as she turned back to face him. There was no pity in his eyes, only understanding.

"How do you know about that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I've heard whispers," he admitted, his gaze unwavering. "But I didn't come here because of what happened to you, Lyra. I came because I believe you're capable of more than you've been given credit for."

His words caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn't know how to respond. She wanted to dismiss him, to push him away like she had pushed everyone else away. But the sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at her—not with pity, but with respect—it made something inside her waver.

"I don't need your belief," she said finally, though her voice lacked its earlier conviction. "I've been fine on my own."

Kaelen's lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Fine isn't the same as living," he said simply.

The words hit harder than Lyra wanted to admit. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. The bond between them hummed softly in the silence, a persistent reminder of the connection she was desperate to deny.

Kaelen seemed to sense her turmoil, and he took a small step back, giving her space. "I won't force you to trust me," he said. "But I won't walk away either. Not when I know what's at stake."

Lyra stared at him, her emotions swirling in a chaotic storm. She didn't want to feel the bond, didn't want to trust him, didn't want to let him in. But a part of her—small and fragile—wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was different.

The thought terrified her.

"I don't know if I can do this," she admitted, her voice trembling.

Kaelen nodded slowly, his gaze steady. "Then take it one step at a time," he said. "And if you stumble, I'll be here."

For the first time in years, Lyra felt something other than fear. It wasn't trust, not yet, but it was a beginning. And as she stood there beneath the moonlight, the bond pulsing softly between them, she realized that maybe—just maybe—she didn't have to face the path ahead alone.