The Alpha’s Eternal Mate

Lyra's heels clicked against the polished marble floors as she followed Vivian down the endless hallway. The air inside Midnight Crest Tower was sterile, suffocating, a far cry from the warmth she once knew. Every step she took carried a weight far heavier than it should, each one dragging her further into the reality of her new life.

"You'll be staying here," Vivian said coldly, coming to a stop in front of a set of double doors. She didn't even glance at Lyra, instead tapping a code into the sleek touchpad beside the entrance. "Don't get too comfortable. It's only a matter of time before he's done with you."

Lyra forced herself to remain composed, offering a small, neutral smile. "I'm sure you're right."

Vivian's lips curled in a smirk, as if she enjoyed the idea of watching Lyra fail. With a soft beep, the doors slid open, revealing an expansive suite bathed in cool shades of silver and black.

Stepping inside, Lyra scanned the space with a practiced eye. It was grand, meticulously designed, and completely void of life. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline, but it did little to ease the tightness in her chest. There were no personal touches, no signs of anyone actually living here. Just like Ethan—empty, cold, and untouchable.

"Dinner will be sent up," Vivian said from behind her. "And don't wander. The last woman who did barely made it out alive."

With that, she turned on her heels and disappeared down the hall, leaving Lyra alone with her thoughts.

The door shut with a soft thud, sealing her in. For a moment, she stood still, staring at her reflection in the window. The woman who looked back at her wasn't the same Luna who once stood by Ethan's side. She was different now—fragile in appearance, but beneath the surface, something stronger simmered.

She walked toward the bed and sat down, letting her hands glide over the soft, expensive fabric of the comforter. A flicker of memory surfaced, a whisper from a life long gone.

A thousand years ago…

The glow of the full moon bathed their chamber in soft silver light, casting long shadows against the stone walls. Lyra lay on the grand bed, her head resting on Ethan's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was a melody she had come to cherish more than anything in the world.

"You're too quiet," Ethan murmured, his deep voice vibrating through her. His fingers trailed through her hair, a lazy, familiar touch.

Lyra smiled softly, tracing idle patterns against his skin. "I'm thinking."

"That's dangerous." His lips quirked in a teasing smirk.

She lifted her head, looking into those familiar dark eyes filled with warmth, love, and devotion. "Do you think we'll have this forever?" she whispered.

Ethan's brows furrowed slightly, his hand moving to cup her cheek. "Of course."

"But what if something—"

He silenced her with a kiss, slow and deep, making her forget everything except the feel of him. "We're eternal, Lyra. You and me, in this life and the next."

The memory faded, leaving a dull ache in Lyra's chest. She pressed a hand to her heart, swallowing the lump rising in her throat. Those words—those promises—had been broken long ago.

A sharp knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts. Her breath hitched as the door swung open, revealing the very man who haunted her memories.

Ethan.

He stood in the doorway, exuding raw power and control in a way that made her pulse quicken. The expensive black suit he wore fit him perfectly, emphasizing the sharp lines of his body, but it was his eyes that held her captive—dark, piercing, and devoid of anything remotely human.

"You're still here," he said flatly, his gaze sweeping over her like she was nothing more than an inconvenience.

Lyra fought to steady her breathing. "For now."

A flicker of something unreadable passed through his expression, but it was gone before she could grasp it. He stepped further into the room, the air growing heavier with each calculated stride.

He stopped in front of her, standing so close she could smell the faint hint of his cologne—woodsy, with a touch of spice. It was the same scent he had always worn, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

"I don't know why they keep sending women to me," Ethan murmured, his voice laced with annoyance. "You all think you're different. That you'll change something."

Lyra met his gaze head-on. "I don't think that."

He tilted his head slightly, studying her. "No?"

"No." Her voice remained steady, though inside, every nerve screamed in protest. "I'm not here to change you."

Ethan's lips curled in the ghost of a smirk. "Good."

The tension between them crackled like an electric current, the air charged with unsaid words and buried emotions. Lyra could see the wariness in his eyes, the way he kept his distance even though something inside him wanted to get closer.

She had to be careful. He wasn't the same Ethan she once knew. He was dangerous now in ways she hadn't expected.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there with her heart hammering in her chest. The door shut behind him, and Lyra let out a shaky breath.

She stared after him, feeling the undeniable pull that had always existed between them, even after all these years.

Ethan Graves didn't recognize her. Not yet.

But deep down, she knew the bond they once shared wasn't as dead as he wanted it to be.

And she wasn't about to let him forget it.

Lyra spent the rest of the evening pacing the luxurious suite, trying to gather her thoughts. Every inch of this place reminded her of how far they'd come—and how far apart they had become.

Her fingers brushed over the edge of a glass table, and she closed her eyes, letting another memory creep in. The way Ethan used to chase her through the moonlit forests, his laughter echoing in the night. The way he would pull her into his arms and whisper against her ear that she belonged to him, always.

She had to remind herself that those days were gone.

For now, she had to focus. There were more important things at play than rekindling an old love. The real reason she was here—the enemy lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Ethan had enemies everywhere, and if she wasn't careful, she could become one of them.

Lying down on the bed, Lyra exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling.

Tomorrow, she would face him again.

And this time, she would be ready.