Without allowing her a chance to respond, he wrapped his arm around Selene's waist and strode into the manor, leaving only his cold, retreating back and the fading scent of cedar and authority.
Lyra caught the flash of triumph in Selene's eyes as she glanced back over her shoulder. A bitter smile tugged at the corner of Lyra's lips. She didn't linger. She turned and walked straight to her chambers. The moment the heavy door clicked shut behind her, every ounce of strength seemed to drain from her body like water through sand.
Early the next morning, just as the first pale light crept over the horizon, Lyra rose from her bed. The moment she stepped out of her chambers, the rich aroma of a morning meal drifted from the great hall—Fenris and Selene sat at the long table, the very picture of a mated pair in perfect harmony.