Chapter 19

The news spread like wildfire through the territories. Whispers of the Midnight Crown's new healer—a wolf blessed by the moon with rare and mystical abilities—reached far beyond Kaelen's borders, stirring curiosity and jealousy in equal measure. Among the many who heard the stories was Darius, Beta of the Silverclaw pack and the wolf who had once been fated to Lyra.

He had not thought of her in months—perhaps even years, though he wouldn't admit it aloud. Darius had convinced himself that rejecting her had been the right choice. She wasn't what he had wanted in a mate, not at the time. Lyra had been too quiet, too unassuming, too... ordinary. Or so he had told himself. But as he listened to the tales of the healer whose powers could rival the moon's own light, something twisted in his chest—a feeling he hadn't expected.

Regret.

It started as a faint pang, easy enough to ignore. But the more he heard, the more it grew, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts until it was impossible to push aside. He pictured her as she had been the last time he saw her: heartbroken and humiliated, her wide eyes brimming with tears as he turned his back on the bond they were meant to share. He had believed he was freeing himself, carving out his own path. Yet now, the memory of her sorrow made his stomach churn.

The final blow came during a council meeting. Representatives from neighboring packs had gathered to discuss the rising rogue threat, and among the discussions, the Midnight Crown healer's name came up.

"They say she's unlike anything we've ever seen," one Alpha said, his tone filled with awe. "Kaelen himself has taken her under his protection. A bond like that—second chance or not—could change the balance of power in the region."

Darius stiffened at the words. A bond. The implications hit him like a thunderclap. Lyra hadn't just found safety with the Midnight Crown pack—she had found something deeper. Something he had thrown away without a second thought.

That night, Darius paced the length of his quarters, his thoughts churning. The idea of Lyra bonded to another wolf—especially Kaelen, the infamous Alpha King—made his blood boil. Was it envy? Pride? Guilt? He didn't know, and the uncertainty only fueled his frustration.

"What are you so worked up about?" Alina's voice broke through his thoughts, sharp and impatient.

Darius turned to see his mate leaning against the doorway, her arms crossed and her green eyes narrowed. She was as fiery as ever, her confidence a stark contrast to Lyra's quiet strength. Once, he had thought that was what he wanted—a mate who could match his ambition, who wouldn't hold him back. But now, looking at Alina, he couldn't help but feel the weight of what he had lost.

"Nothing," he said curtly, brushing past her.

Alina's expression darkened. "Don't lie to me. This is about her, isn't it?"

Darius froze, his jaw tightening. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb," she snapped. "The whole council meeting—you barely paid attention to anything except when her name came up. The healer. Lyra."

Her name on Alina's lips made Darius's wolf stir uneasily, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Stay out of it," he warned.

But Alina wasn't one to back down. She stepped closer, her voice cold. "You made your choice, Darius. You rejected her. You chose me. Or have you forgotten that?"

"I haven't forgotten," he said through gritted teeth. "But that doesn't mean I don't have questions."

"Questions?" Alina's laugh was bitter. "About what? Whether she's better off without you? Because we both know the answer to that."

Her words hit their mark, and Darius turned away, unable to meet her gaze. She was right, of course. Lyra was better off without him. He had seen her as nothing more than an obstacle to his ambitions, a burden that didn't fit the image of what he thought he needed. And now, she was thriving—stronger and more radiant than he had ever imagined. The realization made his chest ache in a way he hadn't expected.

"I need to see her," he said suddenly, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Alina's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"I need to see her," he repeated, his voice firm. "To... talk to her."

"For what?" Alina spat. "To apologize? To grovel? She doesn't need anything from you, Darius. You're the one who threw her away."

"Enough!" Darius's roar echoed through the room, silencing Alina. His wolf bristled, but he forced himself to calm. "This isn't about you, or us. It's something I have to do."

Alina's expression hardened, her jaw clenching as she crossed her arms. "Do what you want," she said coldly. "But don't expect me to wait around while you chase your regrets."

With that, she stormed out, leaving Darius alone with his thoughts.

The journey to the Midnight Crown's borders was both familiar and foreign. Darius had traveled these paths before, but this time, the weight of his intentions made every step heavier. He didn't know what he expected to find—or what he hoped to say. All he knew was that he had to face Lyra, to see for himself the woman she had become.

As he approached the fortress, he was stopped by Kaelen's sentries, their sharp eyes assessing him as they barred his path. "State your business," one of them demanded.

"I'm here to see Lyra," Darius said, his voice steady despite the unease churning in his gut.

The sentries exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable. "Wait here," one said before disappearing into the fortress.

Minutes felt like hours as Darius stood at the edge of Midnight Crown territory, his wolf restless and impatient. Finally, the sentry returned, flanked by none other than Kaelen himself.

The Alpha King's silver eyes were cold as they locked onto Darius, his presence as commanding as the legends claimed. "You have no business here," Kaelen said, his voice low and dangerous.

"I need to speak with Lyra," Darius said, meeting Kaelen's gaze. "I owe her that much."

Kaelen's lips curled into a faint snarl. "What you owe her is to stay away."

Darius tensed, his wolf bristling at the challenge in Kaelen's tone. But before he could respond, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Kaelen," Lyra said, stepping into view. Her expression was calm, but her eyes held an edge of steel that Darius had never seen before. "Let him speak."

Kaelen's jaw tightened, but he stepped aside, his gaze never leaving Darius as Lyra approached.

"Make it quick," Lyra said, her voice firm but emotionless. "I don't have time for your regrets."

Darius's breath caught, his carefully rehearsed words scattering like leaves in the wind. He had come here searching for something—closure, perhaps—but now, standing before the woman he had once dismissed, he realized that no apology would ever be enough.