Breed Me Cursed Alpha (Lyra and Ronan) novel Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Ronan

…

Lyra finds me in the gardens.

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I know it’s her before I turn. I feel the shift in the bond, the way my attention snaps into alignment whether I want it to or not. Cain stirs, smug and unhelpful, like a very large, very dangerous bear who thinks he’s adorable, stretching out as if his only concern in life is chasing butterflies and being admired for it.

The bastard is inlove.

“You disappeared,” she says.

I glance at her, taking her in quickly. She looks lighter than she did an hour ago. Brighter. Like something settled in her chest while I wasn’t looking.

“I went to the rest room,” I answer. “What took you so long?”

She hesitates only a second. Just long enough to matter.

“I was talking to Kyle.”

She smiles when she says it, soft and almost shy, like the words are a small victory she’s been holding close. There’s relief there. Hope. The kind that comes from believing something broken might finally be mending. Her shoulders ease, her eyes brighten, and for a second she looks younger, lighter, like a girl who has found something she didn’t know she was missing. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing at me as if waiting for approval, as if this moment matters more than she wants to admit.

Kyle!

The name lands wrong.

Cain lifts his head.

“Kyle,” I repeat, carefully.

She nods, oblivious to the way my spine locks. “He got lost. Ended up in your office by mistake.”

By mistake.

The words echo, hollow.

‘There is no way,’ Cain murmurs inside me, voice sharpening, ‘that rat stumbles anywhere by accident.

I keep my face neutral. Lyra is watching ine, hopeful, open. She wants this to be real. Wants him to be what she’s always needed.

“What did he want?” I ask.

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Chapter 39

“He said he was looking for the bathroom,” she says easily. “We talked. He was… kind.”

Cain snarls.

I say nothing.

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The gardens are alive now. Truly alive. Vines climbing stone. Bees working blossoms that were dust weeks days ago. Pack members move through the paths in pairs and groups, solid bodies casting shadows that still feel like miracles.

And yet every instinct I have is screaming.

Before I can push further, my mother appears.

She moves like she owns the place. Always has. Her smile is polite. Practiced.

“Lyra,” she says warmly, and for a moment I almost believe it. “Would you walk with me? I thought perhaps we might talk. Properly. I think we began… poorly.”

Lyra glances at me.

I hesitate.

Cain bristles, pacing tight circles. ‘Do not let her take her!

“She will behave,” my mother says smoothly, as if reading my thoughts. “I only want to get to know her. Surely that isn’t too much to ask.”

I study her face. She looks sincere enough. Too sincere.

“I’ll be close,” I say finally.

She inclines her head. “Of course.”

I turn to Lyra, intending to say something reassuring. She doesn’t wait. She steps into me and kisses me.

Not careful.

Not polite.

Hard.

Her hands fist in my shirt like she’s afraid I’ll vanish if she lets go.

Cain surges.

‘Mine,’ he growls, flooding me with heat and want and violence.

I try to pull back gently. “Lyra-”

She doesn’t let me. Her grip tightens, iron-strong. Her mouth moves against mine with desperate certainty,

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Chapter 39

like she’s claiming something she’s afraid to lose.

Cain laughs. Suffer.

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I break the kiss with effort, breath ragged. “To be continued,” I mutter, forcing levity I don’t feel.

She’s breathless when I pull away, eyes dark and unfocused, lips swollen from the kiss like she’s been drinking heat instead of air. For a heartbeat, she just stares at me, stunned, chest rising too fast, fingers still curled in my shirt like she hasn’t realized I let go.

Gods.

The sight of her like that nearly undoes me.

I can already imagine it, the weight of her pressed into the mattress, her hair spilled across my pillows, that soft gasp she makes when she wants something and doesn’t know how to ask for it yet. My body leans toward the thought instinctively, toward the promise of skin and warmth and finally taking her somewhere private where the world can’t interrupt us.

Cain purrs at the idea, smug and approving.

I force myself to step back instead, fists tightening at my sides, because wanting her is easy. Stopping myself is the part that hurts.

She looks like sin and trust all at once.

And for a terrifying second, I almost choose both.

My mother clears her throat.

She links her arm through Lyra’s and begins walking without waiting for permission.

Lyra looks back at me over her shoulder.

She smiles.

It’s tight. Uncertain.

Like she’s already bracing for disappointment.

I wave.

She waves back.

Then they turn the corner.

The second they’re out of sight, I bolt.

I take the stairs two at a time, ignore the looks, the questions. My office door is exactly how I left it.

That’s the problem.

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Chapter 39

…

I step inside and shut it behind me.

The room smells wrong.

Not unfamiliar. Just disturbed.

Cain paces, teeth bared. “He reallu was here.”

I scan the desk.

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Papers stacked almost right. Almost. The alignment is off by a fraction that only someone who lives in this room would notice. The corner of one document is bent the wrong way.

I cross to the wall safe.

The ward hums, intact. But the metal is warmer than it should be.

“Fuck,” I hiss.

Kyle didn’t get in.

But he tried.

My hands curl into fists. Cain surges hard enough to make my vision blur.

‘He is digging,’ Cain snarls. ‘He wants something.’

“And he used her to get close,” I finish.

Rage detonates in my chest. Clean. Cold. Controlled.

I slam my fist into the wall.

Stone cracks.

Cain howls approval.

“She sees only what she wants,” I mutter. “A brother. A family.”

‘And he sees leverage, Cain replies. ‘Let me end him.’

“Not yet,” I growl. “Not without proof,”

Cain bristles, furious. ‘Kill him anyway!

I rake a hand through my hair, breathing hard.

Kyle came here for a reason. And whatever it is, it has nothing to do with redemption.

I straighten the papers carefully, restore the room exactly as it was. When I’m done, no one would know.

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Chapter 39

Except me.

And Cain.

‘He is a traitor,’ Cain vows. ‘I will have his throat.’

“Soon,” I promise quietly. “But not before he stops touching what’s mine.”

Cain grins inside me.

Outside, the bond pulses faintly.

Lyra is laughing.

And that terrifies me more than anything Kyle could ever steal.

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