Chapter 9
Lyra’s POV
During Tristan’s hospital stay, he constantly caused trouble just to draw attention.
The nurses and his attending physician were at their wits end. Eventually, they had no choice but to call me in.
I refused nine times out of ten, but my colleagues, worn down by his antics, always pressured me into going.
Today, as I walked into the room, I simply folded my arms and sat in a chair, closing my eyes to rest
Tristan carefully peeled an apple and held it out to me with a smile that was equal parts hopeful and ingratiating, “Lyra, you must be exhausted. Here, have an apple.
I opened my eyes and let out a dry chuckle. “If you know I’m exhausted, why do you keep adding to my workload? Just heal already, Tristan. I’m done
with you.”
His eyes reddened, his voice weak. “I just… missed you. That’s why 1-
Rubbing my temples, I ignored the apple.
Tomorrow was my mating ceremony. After the wedding, I’d be on leave, and by the time I returned, Tristan would be discharged
Then, I’d be free of him for good.
Once I finished dealing with Tristan, my shift was over.
Lucian was already waiting for me outside the hospital.
He jogged over and took my hand, his voice soft. “You’re officially on leave. Finally, I get you all to myself.
I wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest. “Yeah…Gods, I finally get to rest. I’m exhausted!
Concern flickered across his face. “What’s wrong?”
I briefly recounted how Tristan had been pestering me..
Lucian’s expression darkened slightly, but instead of saying much, be simply tightened his bold on me
“Rest now. After he’s discharged, I’ll handle him.”
Lucian always took care of my troubles. Knowing he would handle it, I didn’t worry any further.
That night, I collapsed into bed and slept straight through until morning
My parents had to drap
drag me out of bed to get my makeup done.
The ceremony venue was perfection–down to the haute couture gown designed just for me. Lucian had promised me the best when we first mated, a balm for past wounds.
And over the years, he had kept that promise.
Standing at the altar, Lucian and I faced each other, our hands intertwined. The priest looked at me and asked, “Do you vow to become his Luna Queen?” But just as we were about to exchange vows, Tristan appeared at the entrance in a wheelchair, dressed in a suit,
“Wait!”
He held a bouquet in his hands, his eyes brimming with emotion. “Lyra, you can’t marry him! You’ve been my mate–my Luna–for two lifetimes! You’re mine!”
The crowd erupted into whispers. Lucian’s grip on my hand tightened, his expression darkening
I squeezed back reassuringly, then strode toward Tristan, my train sweeping beltind me.
His smirk widened, as if my approach confirmed his victory.
1stopped inches from him, tilted my head–and slapped him hard enough to snap his face sideways.
“You ruined my perfect day.” My voice was glacial. “What gives you the right to show your face here? The arrogance to think I’d ever choose you?”
He clutched his cheek, staring at me in shock. “Two lifetimes, Lyra! Don’t you see? We’re the protagonists of the world! I always win–Estelle, you, everything-
I let out a cold laugh and took a step back
“What the hell are you babbling about?” I stepped back.
He lunged, seizing my wrist. “Last life, I cheated with Estelle. We died in a rogues attack–then woke up back at our first mating ceremony! I thought I loved her, but now I know it’s you!
“I want to be with you for the rest of my life!”
A cold smile curled my lips. “Delusional”
Lucian tore Tristan’s hand away, shoving me behind him. “Get this madman out.” he ordered the Beta.
Tristan glared at Lucian, hatred burning in his eyes!,
“You stole my mate! You’ll pay for this!”
I sighed. “Estelle’s imprisonment really broke you, didn’t it? Don’t worry. My husband and I will find you proper care.”
The royal guards dragged him away as he screamed my name.
“I’M NOT CRAZY! LYRA, PLEASE
But I didn’t care
His voice faded. Lucian led me back to the altar.
Lucian and I exchanged rings, we kissed, and he marked me.
Together, we stepped out of the shadows of the past–into a new dawn
As for Tristan? The werewolf psychiatric ward would cure him of one delusion:
No one is the world’s protagonist.
Wed
only get to be heroes of our own stories
