Chapter 138

Chapter 138: Chapter 138

The garden was frozen in that terrible moment Soren’s hand around Nyra’s throat, her feet dangling above the ground, her silver eyes wide with shock and pain. The lanterns flickered, casting twisted shadows across the scene. No one moved. No one breathed.

Then Corvin lunged.

"Let her go!" He grabbed Soren’s arm, his fingers digging into the prince’s wrist with desperate strength. "Soren, stop! It’s Nyra! You know her!"

"Get off me!" Soren snarled, his golden eyes blazing. But Corvin’s grip was unrelenting, and Ragnar was there too, pulling at Soren’s other arm, his scarred face a mask of desperation.

"Soren, listen to me! This is Nyra! She’s your mate! She’s the woman you love!"

"I don’t know her!" Soren’s voice was thunder. "She’s a murderer! She killed her brother! She tried to kill me!"

"That’s a lie! She’s innocent! You have to believe us!" Roderic joined the struggle, his hands closing around Soren’s wrist. Together, the three of them managed to pry his fingers from Nyra’s throat.

She dropped to the ground, gasping, her hands flying to her bruised neck. Corvin was beside her in an instant, pulling her away from Soren, shielding her with his body.

"We need to go," he hissed. "Now. Before the guards arrive."

Soren was still struggling against Ragnar and Roderic, his face twisted with fury. "Release me! I’ll have her arrested! I’ll have her executed for what she’s done!"

"Get her out of here!" Ragnar shouted at Corvin. "We’ll hold him off!"

Corvin didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Nyra’s arm and ran, dragging her through the garden, away from the chaos, away from the man she loved who had just tried to kill her.

Selene watched them go, her expression one of cold triumph. She moved to Soren’s side, placing a calming hand on his arm. "Let them go, darling. They won’t get far. The guards will find them."

Soren shook off Ragnar and Roderic, his chest heaving, his golden eyes still blazing with fury. "Why did you stop me? She’s a murderer! She should be in chains!"

"She’s not a murderer," Ragnar said, his voice low and urgent. "She’s your mate, Soren. She’s the woman you’ve loved since the day she arrived at the academy. Something’s happened to your memories—Selene’s been filling your head with lies!"

"Selene has been the only one telling me the truth!" Soren’s voice rose. "She told me everything! About Nyra, about the murder, about the poisoning!"

"Selene is the one who’s been lying!" Roderic stepped forward. "She was never the love of your life, Soren. Nyra was. Nyra is. You just can’t remember."

Soren’s hand flew to his head. The headache was returning—that sharp, blinding pain that always accompanied the fragments of memory he couldn’t quite grasp. He staggered, and Selene was there, her arm slipping around his waist.

"Don’t listen to them," she murmured. "They’ve been manipulated by the impostor. They don’t know the truth."

Ragnar stared at Selene with pure hatred. "You’re a monster."

"I’m his betrothed," Selene said coolly. "And I’m protecting him from the people who want to destroy him."

"You’re destroying him yourself."

"Enough." Soren’s voice was strained. He straightened, pushing Selene’s arm away. "I won’t listen to any more of this. Guards!"

Two guards appeared at the garden entrance. "Your Highness?"

"Search the palace. Find the woman who was just here—the one with the dyed hair. Bring her to me. Alive."

The guards bowed and departed. Soren turned back to Ragnar and Roderic, his expression hard.

"You should leave," he said coldly. "Before I have you arrested as accomplices."

Ragnar opened his mouth to argue, but Roderic grabbed his arm. "Let’s go. We can’t help her if we’re in chains."

Ragnar hesitated. Then, slowly, he nodded. The two of them backed away, their eyes fixed on Soren with a mixture of grief and disbelief.

"This isn’t over," Ragnar said quietly. "We’ll find a way to make you remember."

He turned and walked out of the garden, Roderic close behind. Selene watched them go, her expression unreadable. Then she turned back to Soren.

"You did the right thing," she said softly.

Soren didn’t answer. He stood in the center of the garden, his hands still trembling, his golden eyes fixed on the path where Nyra had disappeared. The fury was still there, burning in his chest. But beneath it, something else stirred. Something that felt almost like... annoyance.

Why does she bother me so much? he thought. Why can’t I get her out of my head?

He pushed the thought aside and walked back toward the palace, Selene at his side.

The safe house was dark and quiet when Corvin and Nyra stumbled through the door.

The others had already returned—Ragnar and Roderic had beaten them back, their faces grim. Finn, Marek, Jasper, and Maureen were gathered around the small table, their expressions anxious. When they saw Nyra her neck bruised, her eyes red, her whole body trembling—Finn was on his feet immediately.

"What happened? Is she hurt? Who did this?"

"Soren," Corvin said quietly. "He didn’t remember her. He called her a murderer and tried to—" He couldn’t finish the sentence.

"Tried to what?" Finn demanded.

"He grabbed her by the throat. He was going to call the guards."

The room fell silent. Finn’s face went pale. Marek’s hands curled into fists. Jasper closed his eyes, his expression pained.

Nyra hadn’t spoken since they’d fled the palace. She stood in the corner, her arms wrapped around herself, her eyes fixed on the floor. Corvin guided her to a chair and knelt beside her.

"Nyra. Look at me."

She didn’t move.

"Nyra, please."

Slowly, she raised her head. Her eyes were empty—the bright silver dulled to a flat gray. The tears had stopped, but the damage was done. The man she loved had looked at her with hatred. He had tried to kill her. And she didn’t know how to survive that.

"He doesn’t remember me," she whispered. "He doesn’t remember anything. Selene got to him first."

"We’ll find a way to make him remember. We’ll—"

"How, Corvin? How do we make him remember when he won’t even listen to us? When he believes I’m a murderer? When he wants me dead?" Her voice cracked. "I thought... I thought if I could just see him, just talk to him, the bond would be enough. But it wasn’t. He looked at me like I was a stranger. Like I was his enemy."

"Because that’s what Selene made him believe. Not because it’s true." Corvin took her hands. "Soren is still in there. The man you love is still inside him, fighting to get out. We just have to find a way to reach him."

"And if we can’t? If Selene’s lies are too strong?"

"Then we’ll find another way. We’ll prove your innocence. We’ll expose Selene. We’ll make the realm see the truth." His voice was steady, certain. "I’m not giving up on you, Nyra. And I’m not giving up on Soren either. Neither should you."

Nyra stared at him. The tears came then—not the gentle tears of sorrow, but the violent, wrenching sobs of a heart breaking. Corvin pulled her into his arms and held her as she cried, his hand stroking her hair, his voice murmuring soft reassurances.

The others gathered around—Finn and Marek and Jasper and Maureen and Ragnar and Roderic and Darian. They didn’t speak. They didn’t need to. Their presence was enough.

When the sobs finally subsided, Nyra pulled back and wiped her eyes. Her face was blotchy, her eyes red, but there was something in her expression that hadn’t been there before. Something hard. Something resolved.

"I’m done crying," she said quietly. "I’ve cried enough for Soren. For Thorne. For everyone I’ve lost. It’s time to fight back."

Finn stepped forward. "We’re with you. Whatever it takes."

"Whatever it takes," the others echoed.

Nyra nodded slowly. The pieces of her shattered heart were still there, sharp and painful. But she was done bleeding. It was time to become something stronger.

At the palace, Soren stood alone in his chambers, staring out the window at the city below.

The confrontation in the garden had left him shaken—though he would never admit it. The woman’s face, the look in her eyes when he’d grabbed her—it stirred something in him. Not memory, exactly. Just... annoyance. Frustration. A nagging sense that something was wrong.

Why does she bother me so much? he thought again. She’s a murderer. She killed her brother. She tried to kill me. Why can’t I stop thinking about her?

Kael stirred in his mind. Perhaps because Selene’s story doesn’t add up.

What do you mean?

The woman in the garden. When you grabbed her, she didn’t fight back. She didn’t try to use her power. She just looked at you with tears in her eyes, like her heart was breaking. That’s not the face of a murderer. That’s the face of someone who loves you.

Soren’s jaw tightened. Selene said the Moonblood heir was manipulative. That she could make people believe anything.

Selene has been wrong before.

When?

Kael was silent for a moment. I don’t know. I can’t remember. But something feels off. You felt it too, didn’t you? The moment you saw her there was something. A pull. A familiarity.

It doesn’t matter. She’s a traitor and a murderer. The guards will find her, and she’ll face justice.

And if the evidence doesn’t support Selene’s version of events?

Then I’ll deal with it then.

But even as he thought it, Soren couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something. Something important. Something that had been stolen from him by the poison that had nearly taken his life.

He turned away from the window and climbed into bed, but sleep didn’t come. The woman’s face haunted him her silver eyes, her trembling hands, the tears on her cheeks.

Why can’t I stop thinking about her?

The question echoed through the darkness, unanswered.