Lyra slid slowly to the cold stone floor. The chill seeped through her thin gown, but the frost was nothing compared to the frozen wasteland in her chest. She covered her face, muffled sobs escaping through her fingers as tears soaked her sleeves.
Her crystal still glowed with that slanderous howl-alert, the pack channels overflowing with poison and scorn.
But the Sanctuary Oath she had just signed and the passage to distant lands—those were her only way out.
Five years beyond these borders.
Perhaps that was for the best.
Leave this territory of betrayal and pain. Leave these wolves who had shattered her heart. Maybe then she could finally begin to live again.
Back in her chambers, Lyra sealed the heavy oak door behind her and pressed her spine against the cold wood, releasing a long, shuddering breath.
Her fingertips found her throbbing temples, pressing hard as she forced down the surge of hurt and anguish that threatened to overwhelm her wolf entirely. The beast within whimpered, curling tight in her chest.
The past was done. Since she had made the decision to flee beyond the borders, there was no sense in dwelling on wounds that could not be healed. She crossed to her writing desk and settled into the chair, opening the leather-bound ledger that held her accounts.
If she was going to sever all ties cleanly, every loose thread needed binding. Her bloodline claims, her territory rights, her elder votes—all of it had to be organized and transferred to a sealed trust under Council protection. She refused to leave behind any tangled mess for others to pick apart and use against her.
Beyond the arched window, the afternoon sun drifted westward, its golden warmth fading to soft amber, then sinking below the treeline until only a faint glow remained against the darkening sky.
Lyra finally closed the ledger and rubbed her aching wrists. The documents on her desk sat in neat stacks, every parchment organized exactly as the trust required. Not a single detail out of place.
She rose and stretched her stiff neck, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension. Only then did she remember the scent-tag communicator she had set aside while sorting through everything.
The moment she picked it up, the surface flickered to life. Messages from Selene filled the entire display.
"Hey, dear sister, what do you think of this ring? Is it not absolutely gorgeous?"