Anywhere I'd been, I'd find them the next morning—their mingled scents saturating every surface, marking every corner that had once been ours.
I stopped sleeping. Entire nights passed with my eyes fixed on the ceiling, their sounds filtering through the walls. I saw healers. I swallowed calming draughts, following their instructions to the letter. But nothing could block out the scent of their coupling that seeped under my door.
Then one day, Seren barged into my room, a spelled viewing crystal in hand.
"Lyra, after all these years, you're still this useless?"
"Watching you live like a kicked pup every day... even I'm starting to feel sorry for you."
"Fine. I'll be generous and let you die with some clarity." Her smile sharpened, her wolf gleaming behind her eyes. "That night—when you and Kael were drugged with heat-scent poison? That was me."
She turned the crystal toward me.
On its surface, recorded images played in crisp detail: Seren, tipping white powder into my goblet at the feast.
My first instinct was to snatch the tablet and rush to show Alaric the evidence.