She carried an elegant carved wooden container, her usual arrogance nowhere to be seen. Instead, she nibbled her lower lip, eyes rimmed with red, the picture of wounded innocence. She tiptoed to the bedside, her voice soft as cotton: "Lyra, I know I was wrong before. I made this bone broth myself—please try it. Consider it... my apology. I hope you can forgive me."
Lyra said nothing. She simply watched her with cold eyes, her wolf stirring uneasily beneath her skin, knowing full well that Selene never showed kindness without an agenda.
Sure enough, Selene hesitated, twisting her fingers together before continuing carefully: "The thing is... the pack council wants to build a 'gifted scholar' image for me, and you have all those academy competition trophies—they'd be so convincing. Could you maybe lend them to me? Just for a little while, until I finish the ceremonial presentation. Then I'll return them."
Lend her trophies?
Lyra nearly laughed out loud at the audacity. Those trophies represented countless sleepless nights at the Neutral Territory Academy, endless training exercises, hard-won victories in scholarly combat—the only bright spots in her otherwise bleak adolescence. Her lips curled with undisguised contempt. "If you want to play the genius, go earn it yourself. What's the matter—not smart enough to win your own, so you need to borrow someone else's achievements?"
She turned away and resumed packing her belongings into a travel satchel, not sparing Selene another glance.
The rebuke cracked Selene's fragile facade. Something venomous flickered in her eyes, there and gone in an instant. She recomposed herself, stepped closer, and thrust the wooden container toward Lyra, her voice trembling with tears: "I'm only asking to borrow them—I'll give them back. How can you say such things to me? I know you're still angry, but I really need this opportunity..."
Lyra remained unmoved, continuing to sort through her belongings. Seeing that her act wasn't working, Selene's eyes darted around the chamber. Deliberately, she set the container on the edge of the stone table, leaving more than half of it hanging over the side. When Lyra still didn't react, Selene steeled herself and let her fingers slip.
Crash—