Chapter 3 Three years forgotten

Lyra POV

"Get up, bitch!" the bearded man snarled.

I forced myself to rise, refusing to show him pain or fear. I met his eyes and held his gaze, silent and defiant, until he looked away. A flicker of irritation crossed his face.

He yanked the chain, dragging me like an animal. Every step was agony, my body screamed, my feet numb and burning against the ice. I was weak, barely holding on, but I kept moving. I had to.

We reached a large house. As the door opened, warmth rushed out and hit my frozen skin. It stung at first, but quickly dulled into something close to relief.

Inside, the space was bare, plain wooden furniture, dull tungsten lights, and a sterile, lifeless atmosphere. No comfort. No softness. Just cold walls that matched the man dragging me in.

Another tug. I stumbled.

My eyes dropped to the chain. Iron, except for the part wrapped around my wrists. That section was silver. Just enough to weaken me, not him. Intentional. Everything about this nightmare had been designed, precise, cruel, methodical.

He shoved me into a brightly lit room. I hit my knees.

Then he tore the filthy blanket from my shoulders.

Shame slammed into me like a wave of ice.

Raw. Unforgiving.

No one had ever seen me like this before. And now here I was, bare, exposed, my dignity stripped away by someone I once trusted.

Jack.

His betrayal haunted every step of this horror. He hadn't just handed me over-he'd paraded me through the pack, made sure they saw me, humiliated me. He could've carried me. He could've turned his back. Instead, he chose to destroy me.

And he succeeded.

My thoughts fractured as the door opened again.

Three men stepped into the room.

The air shifted thick with dominance, danger, and something darker. They were tall, powerful, almost unreal in their presence. Sculpted. Commanding. Impossible to ignore.

The first had raven-dark hair and eyes so intense, I felt stripped bare beneath them. His gaze wasn't just unsettling, it saw me.

And I had no armor left.

The second man was a dirty blonde, with sharp cheekbones and a cold, unreadable expression, the kind of silence that pulled you in, daring you to unravel it.

But it was the third who stole my breath.

Silver hair shimmered like spun moonlight, catching the light with every movement. His eyes glinted with something untamed and otherworldly. He wasn't just beautiful, he was unreal. Ethereal. And unforgettable.

All three were young, yet there was nothing boyish about them. They moved with a calm certainty, the kind that didn't need to prove power, it simply existed. These weren't ordinary Alphas.

They were Lycans.

And I was nothing but a prisoner in their eyes.

Their stares burned through me, assessing, dissecting. I could feel their judgment like cold iron against my skin. A fresh wave of dread coiled in my stomach as I wondered why Jack had sent me here... to them. I felt small. Trapped. Like prey beneath the gaze of three apex predators.

"So this is the girl," the silver-haired one murmured, sniffing the air before flashing a slow, chilling smile.

"Yes, Alpha!" the bearded man answered eagerly.

The three seated themselves, the silver haired one sat at the center, his presence impossible to ignore. All eyes were on me, and I felt stripped bare, every inch of me scrutinized.

"Do you recognize us?" the silver-haired one asked, voice calm but unreadable.

I tried to speak, but my throat burned-dry, tight, useless. I forced out a hoarse, "No."

He tilted his head, slightly surprised. "Get her some water."

A girl around my age stepped forward with a cup. The moment the cool liquid touched my lips, it was like being anchored. I wanted to gulp it down, but she held the cup firmly, guiding me to sip slowly. Every drop felt like a small mercy.

"Don't you remember us?" the blonde asked, his voice softer, almost... expectant.

I shook my head, searching their faces, but nothing surfaced. No memory. No flicker of familiarity.

"You don't look the same," the silver-haired one said. "But we met, ,briefly. Three years ago. Your boss, Roxy Blaze, introduced you."

I searched again. Nothing. I shook my head once more. Who the hell was Roxy Blaze.

A shadow crossed the face of the black-haired one. His jaw tightened.

"The slut's been with too many men to remember three she met briefly," he spat.

The words landed like a slap-sharp, undeserved, cruel.

The other two didn't stop him. They just looked at me, thinly veiled disgust in their eyes, as though I was filth dropped at their feet.

I wanted to scream the truth. But my path wasn't mine to choose. I was forced into this pain and now they blamed me for her.

I stayed silent.

Pride was all I had left, and I clung to it with bloodied hands.

"Give her a room," the silver-haired Alpha ordered.

The girl stepped forward again, gently taking my arm. I followed her without a word, my thoughts spiraling as I left the cold judgment of the Alphas behind.

But just before the door closed, I heard him murmur "she doesn't remember..... but she will