Chapter 169

Chapter 169: Chapter 169

Lysander’s pov

I stood on the cracked concrete sidewalk, my feet bare inside my muddy boots, the cold mountain rain soaking straight through my clothes within seconds.

My cheek still burned, a dull, throbbing heat where my mother’s hand had struck me but the sting on my skin was nothing compared to the absolute, freezing void inside my chest.

Click.

The sound of Drake hanging up the phone kept repeating in my head like a death knell. Five agonizing seconds of dead air, followed by three mechanical beeps.

Just a cold, digital disconnection that felt like an iron blade sliding between my ribs. I deserved it, what was I thinking dumping that on him on a phone call.

But at the same time, I couldn’t bear it. The thought of him looking at me with divorce and thinking that I have been tainted was a sight I didn’t want to ever see.

It would tear me apart.

I dragged my feet forward, my knees trembling so violently I had to lean my shoulder against the brick wall of an alleyway just to stay upright.

The rain ran down my face in icy rivulets, washing away the salt of my tears, but it couldn’t wash away the filthy, suffocating reality of what my life had become.

I couldn’t pretend anymore.

For weeks, I had built a house of cards out of desperate lies and fragile performances. I had smiled at Drake across the breakfast table, tucked myself into his broad chest at night, and let him kiss my forehead while I hid the dark marks on my neck under high-collared sweaters. I had told myself I was protecting him. I had told myself I was keeping our sanctuary safe.

It was all bullshit.

I had walked past his perimeter wards. I had stood in Darius’s study and stared into the eyes of Gideon, a man Drake swore was dead, a man whose resurrection proved my mind wasn’t fractured, even if my soul was.

And deep inside my core, quiet and persistent, a new life was taking root.

I shoved my hands deep into the soaked pockets of my hoodie, my fingers curling around the silver blood-token Drake had given me. It felt cold against my skin, useless key to a golden cage I had unlocked from the inside.

He knows, I thought, my chest heaving as a ragged, silent sob tore through my throat. He doesn’t know about the baby, he doesn’t know about Gideon, but he knows I went back to Darius. He knows I betrayed him.

A supply truck rumbled past on the main road, its bright halogen headlights cutting through the thick mountain fog, splashing brown slush across my jeans. I barely flinched. I just kept walking, my heavy boots dragging through the mud, following the long, winding asphalt road that led out of the city and back up into the dark pines.

Every step away from my mother’s apartment felt like stepping closer to my own execution.

I knew what Drake was capable of. I knew the terrifying, ancient power that slept beneath his quiet, possessive touches. If I walked back through those iron gates, there would be no more soft excuses. No more gentle rumbles into my neck. No more warm breakfasts by the window.

He was going to tear my world apart. He might lock me in the vaults beneath the earth. He might strip the silver token from my neck and place heavy iron back over my skin.

Part of me, the broken, exhausted part that couldn’t bear the weight of these secrets for another hour. thought he might just leave me. Cast me out into the fog and let Darius have whatever was left of me.

I pressed my hand over my stomach through the wet wool of my sweater.

Underneath my palm, my skin felt warm. The subtle, blooming heat of my energy was steady, completely untouched by the storm raging around me.

"I’m sorry," I choked out into the empty, rain-soaked woods, my voice cracking against the wind. "I’m so sorry..."

I wasn’t talking to Drake. I wasn’t talking to my mother. I was talking to the tiny, fragile life growing inside me, the child that didn’t ask to be born into a war between two powerful people.

I stopped at the edge of the forest road.

High up on the fog-drenched ridge, the amber perimeter lights of Drake’s estate glowed faint and steady against the black sky. The golden fortress looked terrifying in the dark, its ancient blood wards pulsing with a quiet, lethal hum that I could feel all the way in my teeth.

I didn’t turn around. I didn’t run back to the city, and I didn’t call Darius’s car this time.

I straightened my spine, swallowed the taste of rain and blood in my mouth, and took the first step up the long, winding driveway.

I was done running. I was done hiding behind masks. I was going to walk through those heavy front doors, look Drake in his eyes, and lay every single piece of my ruined life at his feet.

The heavy front doors of the estate disengaged with a low, mechanical hum, sliding open just wide enough for me to slip inside.

The main foyer was drowning in silence.

I didn’t see any guards.

Usually, two uniformed vampire officers stood post near the grand staircase, their sharp eyes tracking my every movement. But the hall was empty. The silent absence felt ten times more terrifying than a lineup of armed soldiers, it meant Drake had cleared the floor.

Security no longer meant shit to him.

I kicked off my soaked, muddy boots near the entrance, leaving them on the polished slate floor. My thick wool socks were damp, making no sound as I stepped onto the runners lining the wide corridor.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird, each thud echoing in my ears as I climbed the grand stone staircase toward the master suite.

Every step felt like ascending a gallows. My cheek still throbbed with a dull, persistent heat from my mother’s slap, and my stomach flipped with every shallow breath I took. But beneath the raw panic, a strange, hollow quiet had settled into my marrow.

I was done lying.