Buried Blood
1097 Words
☽ Lucan ☾
I hid in my bedroom until I heard Nyra go to her room. As soon as the door clicked shut, I slid out of my bedroom and stared at her closed bedroom door. I forced my gaze away and stared at the old chest in the corner of the living room. It was carved from dark wood and bound with metal straps. I had never seen what was inside. My mother had kept it sealed, and after her death, I hadn’t bothered to see what was inside. Some things felt like they belonged to the past, untouched.
But now things had changed.
I approached the chest with careful steps before I knelt in front of it. It wasn’t locked, that much I knew, and I pushed the latch out of the way before I lifted the heavy lid. It creaked, and I froze as I held my breath. But Nyra’s door remained closed. The scent hit me then, dried herbs, old paper, and the faint scent of roses, which reminded me of my mother. I wasn’t surprised to see that everything inside had been arranged with my mother’s careful hands. Bundles tied with twine. A faded shawl. A small pouch of coins. But beneath it all, there was a stack of folded papers wrapped in cloth. My pulse slowed as I lifted the cloth away.
Documents.
I carefully took out the pile and read the first page. It was a record of a rescue from a rogue raid. A child found among wreckage, alive and silent, with pale hair and eyes too old for her age. The writing described my parents’ decision to take her in despite warnings. It said they had brought her before the healer and the elders, back when the elders were different men, back when rules had sharper teeth. I read the name on the page.
Nyra.
Even as a child, she had been Nyra. My hands shook slightly as I turned the page. Another record followed. A confirmation that no family came forward. That the child had no markings, no claimed bloodline. That her origin was unknown.
Unknown.
I swallowed hard. A final note was folded into the stack, smaller and worn at the edges, written in my mother’s hand. I recognized her script instantly, neat, slanted, full of quiet force. It was a note that she had written to me. I sat back and sighed softly as I read the note.
Lucan,
If you ever read this, it means I’m not there to explain. Nyra is not yours by blood, but she is yours by choice. Protect her. Do not let the pack turn her into a weapon or a curse. If the day comes when she asks where she came from, tell her gently. Do not let fear make you cruel. Protect each other. Always.
Love, Mom
My vision blurred for a moment, and I blinked the tears away as my jaw tightened. Nyra wasn’t mine by blood. She wasn’t my sister. It should have changed nothing, but it did. It changed everything. Still, I didn’t understand. I tried to think back to that time. I knew Nyra as a baby. A tiny thing. I remember my parents introducing me to my little sister. I remember it so clearly. And yet, now that I thought about it, I couldn’t remember my mother ever being pregnant. I was their only child. I searched for more in the old chest, but all I found was a pink baby blanket with Nyra’s name stitched on it.
“What the hell?” I whispered as I carefully placed everything back inside. I had always felt a bond between us. Always. And I had already acknowledged that my feelings for Nyra had bypassed those of family. We weren’t tied by blood. We had been tied by survival. By grief. By my parents. My chest tightened. Vespera knew of my desire. How? Was Nyra aware? I shook my head as I got to my feet. I didn’t want to think about it. It wasn’t just that Nyra wasn’t my biological sister. It was what that meant for everything I had forced down over the years. Every moment I had watched her smile, and felt something in my chest ease. Every time she cried, I wanted to tear the world apart. Every time a man looked at her too long, my temper snapped.
I had told myself it was brotherly protectiveness.
It hadn’t always been.
I pressed my palms to my eyes and forced a slow breath. The cabin felt too small. The air felt thick. My wolf paced under my skin, restless and tense. I couldn’t take this to Nyra. Not now. She was already carrying enough. Memories of death. The pack’s hatred. Zarek’s rejection. Vespera’s lies. The threat of rogues and Vaelor moving closer. If I told her she wasn’t my sister by blood, it would rip away one of the last stable things in her life.
And it would make her look at me differently.
I didn’t know if I could survive that. I knew there was more to learn. I had to understand everything. My mother’s note indicated that they may have known what Nyra was from the start. But how? And why hadn’t they told me? There was six years between Nyra and I. how had I missed something this important? Suddenly, the floorboard creaked behind me, and I spun around to come face to face with Nyra.
“Lucan?” she whispered. “What are you doing up?” for a split second, my mouth went dry. The truth pressed against my teeth. But I forced it down and shook my head.
“Nothing,” I said softly. “Go back to sleep,” she eyed me closely, and I looked away.
“Why are you lying to me, Lucan?” she questioned softly.
“I’m not lying to you, Nyra,” I replied. “But I am worried. Stressed out. That’s all,” her shoulders eased slightly as she stepped forward and reached for me. Without thinking, I stepped back, and her eyes went wide in surprise. “Let’s get some rest,” I said with a soft chuckle. I turned away before she could say anything more and headed for my room. I paused as I listened to her go into the kitchen. Once I was back in the safety of my bedroom, I hated myself for lying to her.
The truth was that I feared what would happen when Nyra found out the truth.
☽☾
- Writer
