Red String {EDITING}

Chapter Fifteen | Truths and Answers

"They're showing off," a voice sounded then, piercing through the murky fog she was trapped in. "Proving there's a gap in our defences which they can slip through. It's a tactic to make us nervous... Rogues are always so very dramatic about these kinds of things, aren't then, Blu?"

"Would you all stop just mooching about?" Rylan demanded then, voice high, and undoubtedly lined with stress. Lyra felt something inside her twist at the thought that he was stressed because of her. Always her fault. Everything was always just that. "My mate is dying!"

"No, she's not." A hand brushed against her jawline, unmoving despite the low growl which rang out across the room. "She won't die from a measly thing like venom... will you, Lyra?"

Her eyes snapped open then, meeting the red ones which bore into her own with a frightening intensity. Pale, ash blonde hair fell in messy curtains around his face, a smile curving at his lips as the other alpha peered down at her with those blood red eyes of his.

"Purple," he whispered, thumb brushing against the skin beneath her eyes. "I knew it..."

"Thorn?" Rylan looked over at him then, coming to hover at her bedside. "What do you mean?" he asked, staring down at her, relief flooding his expression as he saw she was conscious. "Lyra," he murmured. "You're awake... where does it hurt? Can you still feel your leg? Hunter will be back soon enough, so he can treat you then. You just need to stay calm until then – keep your heartrate as slow as possible."

"What?" she croaked, utterly confused as to everything which had just gone on. Everything was happening too quickly. First there had been The Weaver, then a poisonous snake, and now a strange purple spectre who had taken to haunting her unconscious moments. They had all left her with many more questions than answers, and Lyra felt as though she were drowning in them. It was too much. She was out of her depth, lost in a sea of confusion, and she felt as though she could swim in it no longer. She wanted out. She wanted normalcy – whatever that strange concept was.

"You're going to be alright, you hear me?" Rylan said, grabbing her hand then, squeezing it gently as if to give her comfort. Proof that she wasn't alone in the confusing mess which had become her life. Lyra stared at him then, confusion making her brow wrinkle as she listened to her mate whisper sweet words of reassurance.

"Why?" she asked then, blindly accepting the glass of water pressed into her hands then, and she took a sip, allowing her dry throat a much needed rest. Lyra wasn't exactly certain what made her mouth blurt the words out. It was like the filter between her mouth and her brain had been destroyed. "Why does it matter to you if I die...?" Her question made a silence fall over the room, and her words felt as though they echoed around the place. "The Weaver would probably just give you a new red string... and they'd probably be someone better suited to you..."

"Oh, my precious, insecure little herald," a voice reminiscent of the purple spectre whispered in her head, and Lyra felt tears bite at the corners of her eyes. She didn't understand why any of this was happening to her. All she had wanted was to escape Omega Taurus and fade into the background of society. Someone like her... she couldn't be Rylan's mate. Lyra knew she was anything but the spitting image of someone meant to be a Queen amongst werewolves.

"Don't say that," Rylan whispered, and Lyra could only frown at the tears she could see in his pale blue eyes. More proof she was a terrible match. Maybe that was why The Weaver had visited her... because he'd made a mistake. He had said that not even the gods were perfect. "You're my mate – the one the red string binds me to – and I know there's a reason for it."

Lyra cast her gaze away, shame welling up inside her at what she had said. It was just her insecurities talking, and Omega Taurus had plenty of time to instil many of those into her. "So tell me that reason then, tell me..." she whispered, wanting to hear reasons to stay by his side, wanting to hear reasons to drown herself in the safety he radiated for her and her alone. She couldn't figure them out alone. Not when every bone in her body whispered that she wasn't worthy of him. No matter how she longed to have a chance. There were scars all over her, though not ones visible to the naked eye. Rylan didn't have those. His hands weren't stained with blood. "Why would you want someone like me by your side?" She couldn't belong there, beside someone so... innocent.