Breed Me Cursed Alpha (Lyra and Ronan) novel Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Ronan

I hear it before I see it.

:

That particular tone. Sweet on the surface. Barbed underneath.

VPN 50

55 vouchers

Lunch in the great hall is never quiet anymore. Not since the pack began solidifying. Not since voices returned and opinions followed. But today the noise has an edge, like metal dragged slowly across stone.

I take my seat at the head of the table. Lyra is at my right, where she belongs. She looks composed. Calm. Too calm. The kind of stillness that means she’s bracing for impact.

My mother doesn’t look at her.

That’s how she does it.

She lifts her cup, sips delicately, and speaks to the elders across from her as if Lyra is furniture. Decorative. Temporary.

“It is remarkable,” she says, “how quickly some people forget what a pack requires to survive.”

An elder hums in agreement. Another nods, eyes sliding briefly toward Lyra’s hands. Clean. Soft. Untouched by blood or battle.

“Survival demands sacrifice,” one of them adds. “Discipline. Purpose.”

My jaw tightens.

Lyra keeps eating.

I watch the way her shoulders remain straight, the way she refuses to shrink even as the air around her sharpens. Pride flares in my chest, hot and dangerous.

My mother sets her cup down with a soft click. “And purpose,” she continues, “is not found in sentimentality,”

This time, her gaze flicks toward me. Just for a second.

A warning.

I lean back slightly, studying her face. She looks stronger than she did days ago. More solid. More present. The curse loosening has restored her body, but it has also sharpened her cruelty. She has always been like this. Power first. Affection conditional.

Across the table, Kyle sits upright, color back in his face, wolf healing doing what it does best. Too fast. Too

clean.

I don’t like it.

20:19 Thu, Feb 12 d

Chapter 37

:

VPN

49

55 vouchers

He looks better than he did this morning. I’d went in to peek at him after Lyra brought him food.

He clears his throat. “If you’re talking about Lyra,” he says, voice steady, “then say her name.”

The table stills.

Slowly, my mother turns toward him. She smiles. It is not kind.

“Oh,” she says lightly. “We weren’t talking about anyone in particular.”

A few elders chuckle. Low. Knowing.

Kyle’s hands curl into fists. “You always do this,” he snaps. “You talk around her like she isn’t here. Like she hasn’t earned her place.”

That gets a laugh.

A real one.

One of the elders leans forward, eyes glittering. “Earned?” he repeats. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

Another adds, “You’d know all about taking pleasure in her position, wouldn’t you?”

Kyle stiffens. “What does that mean?”

It is my mother who answers, voice smooth as glass. “It means,” she says, “that it’s rather convenient for you to defend her now. Considering how much you seemed to enjoy having her beneath you before.”

Lyra’s fork freezes halfway to her mouth.

The hall exhales.

Kyle goes pale. “That’s not-”

“Oh, don’t pretend,” an elder cuts in. “You hated it when others touched her. When others disciplined her. You always wanted that privilege to yourself.”

A murmur of agreement ripples through the table.

My hands curl slowly against the armrests.

Lyra lowers her fork. She doesn’t look at Kyle. She doesn’t look at me. She stares straight ahead, jaw tight, eyes bright with something she refuses to let spill.

That restraint hurts more than any outburst would.

gusting.

Kyle looks around, stunned. “You’re disgusting,” he says hoarsely. “You think I enjoyed that? You think I wanted-”

“Enough,” I command.

20:19 Thu, Feb 12 d.

Chapter 37

…

The word lands like a blade.

Silence slams down.

Every eye turns to me.

:

VPN

49

Kyle’s mouth snaps shut. My mother studies me with cool interest, as if measuring how far I’ll go.

I don’t raise my voice. I don’t need to.

“She is my mate,” I continue. “And you will speak to her. Or not at all.”

An elder scoffs. “Mate or not, she represents a problem.”

There it is.

I shift my gaze to him. “Explain.”

“She weakens you,” he says plainly. “You hesitate. You compromise. The pack sees it.”

My mother nods. “You were never like this before.”

I glance at Lyra. She finally looks at me then. Not pleading. Not afraid.

Trusting.

That trust is a weapon and a wound all at once.

55 vouchers

Kyle stands abruptly. “She doesn’t weaken him,” he says. “She’s the only reason half of you are sitting here solid instead of flickering like ghosts.”

Someone laughs. “You sound jealous.”

Another adds, “You always did hate sharing her.”

Kyle’s face twists. “You’re sick.”

“And you’re a hypocrite,” my mother says calmly. “You enjoyed your authority over her when it suited you. Now you want to play protector? You want to be her brother? Now? Now that she’s conveniently mated to the King of wolves?”

Kyle shakes his head, breath coming fast. “You don’t know anything about me.”

I do.

I watch the way his eyes flick to Lyra. Too quick.

This isn’t guilt.

I rise slowly from my seat.

20:19 Thu, Feb 12 d

Chapter 37

::

The scrape of my chair echoes.

“That’s enough,” I say again. “All of you.”

:

My mother’s lips press thin. “You cannot silence concern, Ronan.”

“I can,” I reply, “when it turns into cruelty.”

Her eyes flash. “Cruelty is pretending a pack can survive on affection alone.”

I step closer to the table. “Cruelty is devouring your own and calling it tradition.”

A hush falls.

Kyle exhales shakily, then looks at Lyra. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “You don’t deserve this.”

The hall goes still again.

I watch him carefully.

That apology is too neat. Too public.

Too late.

Lyra nods once. Polite. Distant.

My chest tightens.

VPN

49

55 vouchers

There is no version of this where Kyle suddenly becomes her defender without motive. Marcus didn’t send him here by accident. And whatever story he spun in the infirmary, it doesn’t explain this performance.

My mother breaks the silence. “Sentiment aside,” she says, “we must think of the future.”

I meet her gaze. “The future is not built on breaking her.”

Her smile is thin. “We’ll see.”

Lunch resumes in fractured pieces. Voices lower. Tension hums beneath every clink of cutlery,

Lyra eats a few more bites, then sets her plate aside.

I keep my eyes on her.

On Kyle.

On my mother.

And the thought repeats, cold and insistent in

my

mind:

There is no way Kyle’s story about Marcus is the whole truth.

20:19 Thu, Feb 12 d.