2. The Rejection

Lyra

I took my time getting ready that morning. Every movement, every choice was deliberate. Today, I would see him and that’s exactly why she was already here.

Selene.

In the past, I had thought her presence comforting, like a sister waiting to help me pick the right outfit or whisper advice about love. But now I knew better. Her charm had always been a weapon. Her loyalty, an illusion. And I… well, I had walked right into the trap they laid for me.

Not this time.

I stepped out of the shower, letting the steam swirl around me like mist on a battlefield. Choosing a pair of high-waisted skinny jeans and a form-fitting tee, I made sure everything I wore said one thing: I’m not your puppet anymore.

At the vanity, I brushed out my silver hair, the color Selene once convinced me to hide. I applied a soft, bold makeup look, letting the glow of my skin and the icy blue of my eyes speak for themselves. My reflection looked like a stranger to the old Lyra. But to me, now, it looked like power.

Satisfied, I made my way downstairs.

Selene was lounging in the living room, thumbs tapping away at her phone. Probably texting Damon, her co-conspirator, her lover, feeding him updates like a loyal little spy.

I scoffed inwardly, the taste of my past stupidity bitter on my tongue. How could I have been so blind? So trusting?

Selene looked up, her gaze instantly narrowing as she took me in.

“Lyra, what the hell are you wearing?” She blurted, frowning as her eyes scanned my outfit like a security check.

I tilted my head and smiled sweetly. “Why? Don’t I look good?”

She blinked and tried to hide the envy in her eyes, “of course you do but… you know Damon doesn’t like it when you flaunt yourself. He’s very protective.”

Ah, yes. The old script. I've been there, done that.

Back then, I had believed her. Believed that Damon’s “protection” meant love. That modesty meant respect. But now I saw it clearly; Selene had been marking territory. Hiding me. Manipulating me into shrinking so Damon wouldn’t forget where his loyalty truly lay: with her.

“Funny,” I said, keeping my voice light. “I like how I look. And if Damon loves me, I doubt my jeans will be a dealbreaker.”

Her smile cracked for a heartbeat, just long enough for me to catch the venom before she sealed it behind her usual sugary expression.

“Of course,” she said. “You look beautiful.”

My mother walked in then, carrying a plate of pancakes and a steaming cup of coffee. She didn’t even glance at Selene before her eyes landed on me, glowing with pride.

“My baby looks gorgeous in anything, but today? You shine,” she said warmly.

I smiled and kissed her cheek before settling at the table. As I ate, she silently served Selene her breakfast too. Despite her feelings toward Selene, my mother had always been gracious. That’s who she was. Too good for the world that had taken her from me once. I wouldn’t let it happen again.

After breakfast, Selene and I left the house. The morning air was crisp as we headed toward the training grounds.

“You didn’t dye your hair black like I had advised?” She asked, her voice too casual.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why would I?”

“You said you would last night. Damon hates that silver color, remember?”

I smirked.

“I like it. It’s natural. If he really cares about me, he will accept it. After all, it’s not the hair he’s attracted to… right, Selene? It's me.”

That hit home. I saw her lips twitch before she masked her discomfort with a grin.

“Of course. Damon really likes you.”

Lies.

He liked what I could give him. Power. Favor. A way to ascend.

We reached the training grounds. I scanned the field. There were warriors training hard, sweat glistening on skin, the clash of fists and growls. I searched instinctively for him, but I felt… nothing.

No familiar scent. No tug. No heartbeat echoing mine.

My wolf was gone.

That was the cost of my first death. A piece of me lost.

“He’s waiting for you,” Selene said behind me, gesturing toward the far side of the field.

There he was.

Damon.

Still the same charming smile. Still handsome in the rugged, unpolished way that once made my heart flutter. Now, it made my skin crawl with disgust but I swallowed to hide it.

As we approached, he noticed me and lit up with a grin, manufactured, just like everything else about him.

“Lyra, you came,” he said, stepping closer.

“Selene said you had something to tell me,” I replied, forcing a soft smile.

He scratched the back of his head, playing the bashful act he had perfected. The one I had fallen for once.

“Yeah, I wanted to do this in a special way, but… I couldn’t wait.”

Of course you couldn’t. The trap was set. The audience was here. The stage was perfect.

Warriors had gathered, casually but clearly aware of the performance about to unfold. Just like last time. Damon knew how to play the crowd, how to corner me with eyes and expectations.

He pulled a small red velvet box from his pocket and dropped to one knee.

Predictable.

He opened the box. A cheap ring glinted in the morning light. My heart didn’t race. My cheeks didn’t flush. I didn’t even blink.

“Lyra,” he said with that fake, boyish smile. “I know I’m not perfect, but my love for you is real. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you. Will you be my girlfriend?”

The crowd erupted in cheers. Whistles. Laughter. Clapping.

I turned my head, catching Selene’s face just in time to see the flicker of fury she tried to smother. Her smile was wide, too wide. She hadn’t expected me to play along.

Time to give them the show they wanted.

“Oh my goddess,” I squealed, letting my hands fly to my cheeks. “Damon, this is… beautiful!”

More cheering. Damon stood, smug as ever, and slipped the ring onto my finger. I let him. For now.

“You have made me the happiest man alive,” he said, and for a brief second, he looked genuinely proud of himself.

Fool.

He stepped back, basking in the praise.

And then I struck. It was my moment now.

“Damon,” I began, my voice soft, almost trembling. “The ring is lovely. And your words… the sweetest I have ever heard.”

I paused. The crowd quieted, sensing something.

“But…” I took a breath, just enough to look shaken. “I can’t accept your proposal.”

Gasps rippled through the group like a wave. Damon stiffened.

Selene grabbed my arm, eyes wide and furious.

“What are you doing?” She hissed under her breath.

I yanked free and turned to face Damon, my expression serene.

“I’m sorry,” I said, loud and clear. “But we can’t be together. Let's break up.”

And with that, I walked away while throwing the ring at him.

Not looking back.

Not this time.