Chapter 30
May 5, 2025
Lyra (Seraphina)
Lucien sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, his arm bleeding and bruised. I knelt beside him, carefully wrapping the gauze around the gash he earned while throwing himself in front of a rogue to protect me.
He flinched for the fifth time.
I gave him a look. “You’re such a baby.”
“It hurts!” he whined, scrunching his nose like a child.
“Oh please,” I muttered. “You survived a rogue attack but can’t handle a little wrap?”
“This wrap feels like you’re using barbed wire,” he grumbled, but he didn’t move.
I smirked and kept working, pulling the cloth tighter. “Big Alpha Lucien brought down by a bandage. How tragic.”
He let out a small laugh. “Tragic indeed.”
Silence settled between us as I smoothed the last bit of gauze down and secured it with a clip. His skin was warm under my hands, and I tried not to focus on the way his breathing slowed when I touched him.
“I need to apologize,” he said suddenly.
I looked up. His eyes were locked on mine, serious and soft in a way I rarely saw.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Not just for everything recently, but for how I treated you the past two years. I was… I was cruel, and distant, and stubborn as hell.”
I blinked. His voice was shaking, just a little.
“And I was terrible at communicating with you,” he continued, “especially about how I felt. I never told you because… I didn’t know how to. My dad always told me Alphas don’t show feelings. That it makes us weak. So I pushed everything down. And when you came into my life, you just—broke everything wide open.”
I swallowed hard.
He looked down at his hand. “That day… the day you left the pack, I’m pretty sure it was because you saw me with that girl.”
I stiffened.
“So you did see us,” he said gently. “I thought so.”
He sighed. “I didn’t do anything with her, Seraphina. Nothing. She’s a new recruit. Her brother had just died in a rogue ambush, and she broke down. She’s young. I was comforting her. That’s it. I swear on the moon goddess, there was nothing else.”
I stayed quiet for a second.
“I didn’t know, Lucien,” I finally said. “You never told me how you felt. You always acted like I was just a problem, like I was just someone forced into your life.”
His eyes snapped to mine. “No. No, that’s not true. It was never like that.”
“Then what was it?” I whispered.
He leaned forward slightly. “It was everything. I feel everything for you. I didn’t know how to explain it. I didn’t even understand it.”
I nodded slowly. “Because I woke up alone after we shared the bed together. You weren’t there. No note. No words. Just empty space.”
“I was scared,” he said. “So damn scared. I’ve never let anyone in before. Never let my walls down. I thought if I could get you out of my system, it would go away.”
He gave a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “But you didn’t go away. You just kept getting deeper. You were like… infiltrating me.”
“Infiltrating?” I raised an eyebrow.
He smiled, sheepish. “Yeah. You’re like a virus.”
I burst out laughing. “Did you just call me a virus?”
“The most beautiful, stubborn, infuriating virus I’ve ever known,” he said, grinning.
I shook my head, finally letting my shoulders relax. “Well, virus or not, I’m done with your hand. Don’t touch it too much or you’ll ruin my work.”
I stood up to get him something to drink, but paused. “I’ll fix you a cup of coffee.”
He looked up, that soft smile still on his face. “You used to fix everything for me.”
I turned back, nodding. “And you broke all of it.”
He stood slowly, his gaze never leaving mine. “Then it’s my turn now,” he said, voice quiet but strong. “To fix us.”
My breath caught. And then, like we were pulled together by something stronger than pride or pain, he stepped forward and kissed me.
It wasn’t like the first kiss we almost had. It wasn’t frantic or rushed. It was slow, steady, full of emotion—of things we didn’t know how to say with words.
It tasted like a beginning. Like coming home. And I kissed him back.
