LYRA’S POV
The following morning, I lay propped against the hospital pillows, watching Kael as he spoke.
He stood by the window with his hands clasped behind his back, an AirPod in one ear.
Morning light streamed through the glass, catching the sharp angles of his face.
I found myself staring.
This was the first time I’d really had a chance to look at him without pain and exhaustion clouding everything.
He was striking in a way that seemed almost unfair: high cheekbones, a strong, defined jaw, and lips that always seemed pressed into a firm line.
His eyes were dark and intense, the kind that made it hard to look away.
His skin was pale, but not sickly.
There was a quiet strength in the way he carried himself, even while handling business over the phone.
His black hair was neatly styled, not a strand out of place.
Everything about him suggested control.
Precision.
Power.
But there was something else in his eyes, something I couldn’t quite read.
If I didn’t know better, I might have thought the rumors were wrong.
That this cold, ruthless Alpha was actually…
warm.
“Lyra?”
His voice pulled me out of my thoughts, deep and rough, the kind of voice that could command a room without effort.
“Lyra, can you hear me?”
I blinked.
“Yes.
Yes, I can hear you.”
He studied me for a moment.
Only then did I realize he was sitting across from me now.
“Yeah?” He frowned.
“What was my last sentence?”
I froze.
Then, to my own surprise, I repeated his exact words back to him.
“You said, ‘Lyra, can you hear me?’ That was your exact question…
right?”
Something flickered in his eyes—surprise, maybe.
Then, for the briefest second, the corner of his mouth lifted.
And then it was gone, as if it had never been there.
I blinked, wondering if I’d imagined it.
“Are you uncomfortable in any way?
Any pain?” he asked, his voice returning to its usual measured tone.
“No.” I shook my head.
“Then stay focused and pay attention.” He folded his arms.
“I don’t like repeating myself.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled, sitting a little straighter against the pillows.
He continued.
“You said you have evidence against Cassian.
I’d like to see it.”
I almost reached for it automatically, then remembered our deal and stopped.
“I’ll hand it over after we’re married,” I said carefully.
“That was the agreement.”
He rested his clasped hands on one knee.
“That’s fair.”
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“Before we head to the estate,” he continued, “there are a few things you need to know.”
I frowned.
“The estate?
Not the government office?
I thought we were going to register the marriage.”
He glanced at me, turning a ring over his knuckle.
“Would you have me go to a government office,” he said, “when I can have them come to my residence?”
I stared at him.
Of course.
He was Alpha Kael.
He didn’t follow the rules; he rewrote them.
“Moving on,” he said, his tone businesslike.
“My grandmother is ill, and her greatest wish is to see me married before she…” He paused.
“Anyway, I intend to fulfill that wish.”
I nodded slowly.
“The marriage will last two years.
During that time, you’ll receive a monthly allowance of one hundred thousand dollars.
When the two years are up, you’ll receive a separate spending account, a mansion, a car, a driver, and full medical coverage.”
I raised a hand.
“Hold on.
Two years?” I blinked.
“So this is…
a contract marriage?”
“No.” His voice was firm.
“I don’t want lawyers involved.
This stays between us, and my family can’t know anything about the agreement.”
My voice hardened slightly.
“I don’t want this.
I can’t be part of…”
Kael stood and leaned forward, his eyes fixed on mine.
“Do you have another option?”
I opened my mouth to argue.
“I’m sure your ex is searching for you as we speak,” he said, his voice low.
“Would you rather let him find you?
Especially with evidence you probably took from him?”
I thought about Cassian.
About everything I’d endured.
The cruelty.
The humiliation.
The loss of my child.
“I’ll do it,” I whispered.
“Good.” Kael straightened.
“But I have a question.” I cleared my throat.
“Why go through the trouble of registering the marriage if it’s going to be fake anyway?”
“Tell me, Miss Lyra.” He crossed his arms.
“How else would a grandson convince his grandmother that he’s married without a marriage certificate?”
I stared at him in disbelief.
He’d planned all of this that quickly?
He reached for his phone.
“Get some rest.
I’ll have an outfit and a stylist sent over.”
A stylist?
Three hours later, I understood why.
A warning would have been nice.
Between the stylists’ awkward stares, their endless questions about my burns, and the careful work of covering my injuries, I felt like a doll being dressed for display.
The dress was beautiful: deep emerald silk that fell to my feet, with long sleeves to hide the bandages and a neckline that flattered without revealing too much.
My hair was swept into an elegant updo, and the makeup artist had somehow made my damaged skin look almost normal.
“You’re ready to go, ma’am,” the head stylist announced.
I stared at my reflection and barely recognized myself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The drive through Bloodmoon territory was unlike anything I’d ever seen.
The car glided through the streets, and I stared out the window, unable to look away.
I’d never been to the Northern Territory before, but it was nothing like Moonveil.
Skyscrapers pierced the clouds, their glass facades gleaming in the afternoon sun.
Every building seemed designed to impress, even intimidate.
The roads were immaculate.
People moved with purpose in designer clothes, their expressions confident.
This wasn’t just a pack.
It felt like a kingdom.
My family was rich, but this territory seemed built for the truly wealthy.
I felt small.
Insignificant.
Then we reached the gates.
HART ESTATE.
The words were carved in bold, elegant letters across the black iron gates.
The driver passed through, and my mouth fell open.
The mansion was unreal—a sprawling modern estate surrounded by manicured gardens and fountains, with a driveway that seemed to stretch forever.
Glass walls, sharp angles, and a sweeping entrance made the place look as if it belonged in a magazine.
This was where he lived?
The car stopped.
Kael stepped out first.
I reached for my door, but it opened from the outside.
He stood there, waiting while I adjusted my dress.
I stepped out and smoothed the fabric as I looked around.
Kael walked ahead, and I followed, my heels clicking against the marble steps.
A man waited at the entrance and bowed the moment he saw him.
“Everything is ready, Alpha.”
Kael nodded and went inside.
I barely had time to take in the interior before he called me over to sit.
I settled beside him on the plush black couch, smoothing my dress once more.
Kael gestured toward the man on the other side of the table—the registrar, I realized.
Two other men were there as witnesses: his assistant and the family lawyer.
The registrar adjusted his glasses and held out his hand.
“Your identification, please.”
Kael handed over his passport.
I slid mine across the table.
The registrar examined both documents carefully, comparing the photographs to our faces before nodding.
Then he placed the official marriage register in front of us.
“Please read carefully before signing.”
I read through it, then picked up the pen.
My hand trembled slightly as I made the biggest decision of my life.
Then I signed my name in one swift stroke.
Kael signed beside me, his signature bold and decisive.
The registrar stamped the document and presented the certificate to us with both hands.
“Congratulations, Mr.
and Mrs.
Hart.
The formalities are complete.” He bowed his head.
“I wish you both a happy marriage.”
I stared at the certificate in my hands.
It was done.
I was married to the most powerful Alpha in all three territories.