Elara put down her comm-link.The screen still displayed Lyra’s latest video log,widely shared across the allied Clan channels.In the visual,Ryder was kneeling,his powerful frame contorted as he meticulously adjusted Lyra’s laced combat boots,his focus entirely on her.They shared a laugh—a sound of genuine,unbound joy.
Expressionless,Elara locked the screen.She felt no shock,only the dull,steady ache of acceptance.
Suddenly,the door swung open with a heavy thud.
“Elara!”Ryder,the Alpha King,rushed in,his face etched with a fleeting,unfamiliar panic.“How are you—”
As he got closer,he noticed the alarming pallor of her skin.Her lips were almost devoid of natural color—the color of a wolf who had lost too much blood.
His brows furrowed,the instinct of the Alpha Mate finally kicking in,albeit belatedly.“Is it the irregularity in your heat cycle again?Why did you keep this from me?”
Elara had long grown accustomed to managing her own human ailments.Since she had fiercely instructed the servant to never mention the lost pup,Ryder simply assumed she was recovering from a usual,minor health crisis.He took the convenient excuse for granted.
Elara looked at him quietly.