How To Lose Your Billionaire Alpha Husband In 365 Days (Or Less)!-Chapter 70: Blame Biology...

"The night our mate almost lost control?" she said softly.

I went still.

Before I could voice my surprise at her knowing, she added gently, "I’m you, remember? I know what you know, what you feel. What you’re trying not to feel."

I sat in silence, my chest heavy with the memory of Aiden’s claws on the mattress, his voice pleading with himself... or maybe with me.

"It wasn’t your fault," Lyra said. "None of that was."

"It doesn’t feel that way," I said. "I ran."

"You ran because you were scared. That doesn’t make you weak. That makes you human. And now..." I felt her presence swell just slightly, a wave of strength rising in my chest. "Now, you’re not just human anymore. That’s not a loss. That’s power."

"Doesn’t feel like power. Feels like pressure."

"It’s both," she admitted. "But we’ll figure it out. Together."

I let out a shaky breath and slowly stood from the bench.

For some reason, talking to Lyra felt easy, almost natural, like we’ve known each other for a long time, but are still getting to know each other.

The room had gotten cooler, and the warmth in my skin had faded a bit, but it was still there, just not as strong.

I reached for the robe’s belt and tightened it.

"Is this what it’s going to be like every day now? Sharing my head?"

"Not every second," Lyra said. "I’ll quiet down when you need space. Think of it like... a switch you’ll learn to use. You’ll know how to let me in more or less. Right now? We’re still syncing."

"And if I don’t want to sync?"

"You already are," she said simply.

I swallowed, then opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the bedroom. The sunlight had shifted across the floor. Aiden wasn’t in the room, but I could hear quiet movement downstairs.

"I don’t know if I can trust him," I said aloud, more to myself than anyone else.

"You don’t have to," Lyra answered. "Trust isn’t a duty. It’s a choice. And sometimes? It’s not even necessary. What matters is that you heal. With or without him."

"I just..." I hesitated. "I don’t know what it is, but I think it has to do with the curse Elena was talking about then. But he didn’t tell me about it."

"He should have," she agreed. "But he didn’t. That’s on him."

I stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at the folds in the sheets, at the spot where I’d woken up hours ago, not knowing who or what I was.

Downstairs, I could still hear Aiden moving, maybe in the kitchen, pacing. I didn’t know. I didn’t ask. I hadn’t said much to him after waking up.

And he hadn’t come up to check on me since.

Part of me told myself that was good. Space was good. Distance was necessary.

Another part... the one I was trying very hard to ignore... hated it. Hated the silence. Hated that he wasn’t here right now.

I wrapped my arms around myself and exhaled sharply. "Gods."

"You’re sulking," Lyra said cheerfully in my mind.

"I am not."

"You are. You woke up all glowing and divine, rejected your hot husband like a queen, which, respect, but now you’re low-key pouting because he didn’t come crawling up the stairs with tea and forehead kisses."

"I’m not pouting."

"Girl."

I scowled at the blanket like it had personally offended me. "I told him I wasn’t ready. That I needed space."

"And he’s giving you that space. And now you’re mad."

"I’m not mad," I snapped. "I’m... confused. I don’t know what I’m feeling."

"Oh, you know exactly what you’re feeling," Lyra hummed. "You’re angry. Hurt. Scared. But you also want him here even if it’s just to sit in silence. To feel him close. That doesn’t make you weak. It makes you mated."

I rolled my eyes. "Please don’t say that like it’s a diagnosis."

"Too late. Symptoms include rapid heart rate when he’s nearby, enhanced olfactory reaction to his scent, and dreams that don’t require a rating."

"Lyra."

"What? You were thinking it."

I groaned and stood up. "I’m going to get dressed."

"Sure, pretend it’s because you’re modest and not because you want to shake off the scent of your mate that’s been soaking into that robe since sunrise."

I froze mid-step.

I didn’t even realise it until she mentioned it.

But there it was, faint yet real... Aiden’s scent lingering on the fabric. It had that fresh, woodsy smell mixed with something sharper that I didn’t have the vocabulary to name. Whatever it was, it made my pulse jump a little.

"See?" Lyra said smugly. "He smells like moonlight and temptation. Don’t blame me. Blame biology."

I muttered something unrepeatable and walked out of the room. Each step down the hall toward my own room only made it worse. His scent was everywhere. The hallway. The bannister. Even the air felt different in this house now.

I slammed the door behind me a little harder than necessary once I reached my room.

"You’re cranky," Lyra noted.

"I’m processing."

"You’re cranky while processing."

I ignored her and went straight to the closet. Clean clothes. Something practical. Something neutral. Nothing that said "I just came back from almost turning into a spiritual inferno under a blood moon."

I pulled on jeans and a black tank top, running fingers through my damp hair as I tried not to think about anything.

Not about the bond.

Not about the ritual.

Not about the way Aiden looked at me like I was something sacred one second and something fragile the next.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and finally unlocked the screen.

One message.

From him.

Aiden: There’s a formal event tonight. Council presence expected. We’ll go together. For appearances.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

Appearances.

Right.

Not because he wanted to.

Not because I was his mate.

Not because he missed me or cared that I nearly broke in half twenty-four hours ago.

No. For appearances.

"For appearances?" I muttered aloud.

"Oh, yeah. That was smooth," Lyra chimed in. "He should put that on a plaque."

"I should say no."

"You should."

I stared at the message longer than necessary, my thumb hovering over the keyboard.

But I didn’t reply, because I know there was no avoiding this.