The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 46

Toren’s hand never left mine as we walked back through the resort. The sky was beginning to darken, streaks of lavender and silver stretching behind the mountains, and the ache from my shift gnawed at my muscles with every step. He seemed to notice without me saying a word.

“Upstairs,” he murmured, steering me toward the elevators. “A hot bath will help with the soreness. I already told my Beta to fetch some things for you—it should all be in there by now.”

When the elevator doors slid open, he guided me inside, pressing close until his warmth pressed into my side. I leaned into it, greedy for the comfort. The seventh floor came too quickly, and as we stepped into the quiet hall, Toren paused, pulling another shirt over his head. It stretched across his shoulders, fabric clinging to his chest in a way that made my mouth dry.

Before I could look away, he tipped my chin up, pressing a kiss to my lips—soft, lingering, but full of promises I couldn’t yet name.

“I’ll be downstairs speaking with Elder Thora,” he said against my mouth, his voice low, husky. “Enjoy the bath. Take your time. I’ll come back to you.”

And then he was gone, the sound of his steps retreating down the hall, leaving me standing outside his door with my pulse racing.

Inside, his suite was neat, organized in a way that screamed discipline and control. I walked past the sitting area, toward the door I knew had to be the bathroom. My heart beat harder the closer I got, a strange anticipation curling in my stomach.

I pushed it open—and froze.

The mirror loomed above the marble counter, reflecting a stranger who looked almost like me… and yet not.

I staggered closer.

He was right.

I wasn’t the same girl anymore.

My eyes stared back, still the same deep color, but rounder, brighter, carrying something sharp that hadn’t been there before. My hair, once dull and heavy, now spilled down in full, glossy curls that bounced against my shoulders. My skin was smooth, luminous, glowing faintly in the soft light. I touched my cheek, half expecting my fingers to sink through the glass.

I stepped back, heart hammering as my gaze roamed lower. My body… it had changed. My shoulders squared stronger, my legs looked longer, shapelier, my waist narrower, my breasts more pronounced. My hips curved differently, fuller, like I’d grown into a version of myself I hadn’t known was waiting all along. Even the way I stood felt… taller.

It should have made me feel powerful. But all I felt was sick.

Because Lyra had already shifted. And no one had told me.

Every bruise, every empty night without food, every cruel word—built on a lie. My nails dug into my palms as I tore my gaze from the mirror.

The bathtub gleamed before me, deep and white and waiting. I clung to it like a lifeline, because if I let myself think about Lyra right now, I’d crumble.

The knobs glared back at me, taunting. I’d never worked something so… pristine. My hands fumbled, twisting metal until water roared from the spout, steaming hot. I scrambled to fit the stopper in place, nerves jittering as though the simplest task were foreign.

On the counter, a small glass bottle caught the light. Bubble bath. I picked it up, uncorked it, and sniffed. Sweet vanilla with a hint of lavender. My throat tightened. With careful hands, I poured a small amount beneath the stream. Bubbles swirled and frothed instantly, climbing and climbing until the tub looked like a cloud.

For a moment, I just stood there. Watching the water rise. Listening to the hiss of steam against porcelain.

When it looked nearly full, I turned the knobs off, the silence after a rush of sound somehow heavier. My fingers fumbled with the hem of Toren’s shirt—his scent still clinging to it, grounding me, tempting me not to take it off at all. But the ache in my muscles screamed louder.

I tugged it over my head and let it drop to the floor.

The air bit my bare skin, raising goosebumps along my arms. Slowly, hesitantly, I eased into the bath.

Heat engulfed me at once, wrapping around my limbs, seeping into my bones. I sank lower, bubbles clinging to my skin, until the water hugged me up to the chin. A sigh left my lips, trembling, breaking apart into something close to relief.

The ache dulled. The tension unwound. My wolf purred beneath my skin, soothed by the heat. For the first time in what felt like years, maybe forever, I felt… clean. Whole.

Still, the mirror’s reflection haunted me. The new face. The new body.

And the lie that had shaped my entire life.

I pressed my head back against the porcelain edge and shut my eyes, bubbles tickling my chin, letting the water hold me as I tried not to drown in my thoughts.

Steam curled around me, heavy and drowsy, lulling me into half-sleep. My body was finally relaxing, the ache of shifting fading in the bath’s warmth.

Knock.

The sound cracked through me like thunder.

I froze, then it came again—louder, sharper, rattling in my skull. Every sound felt amplified now, almost unbearable. With a hiss, I pushed myself upright, water dripping down my skin.

Grabbing the fluffy robe from the hook, I wrapped it tight around me and padded into the suite. The knock came again, and this time I heard it—steady, thudding, a heartbeat just outside the door.

I twisted the knob and yanked the door open.

Lyra stood there.

Her eyes widened in shock, taking me in—my damp curls, fuller and brighter than before, my skin glowing from the bath, no longer the ragged shadow she was used to. But the surprise didn’t last. Hatred quickly curdled her face.

“Where is Alpha Toren?” she snapped.

Something inside me burned hot. “Why should I tell you?” The words came sharp, fueled by everything she’d ever done to me.

Her lip curled. “Because I’m still your sister,” she spat, venom dripping from every syllable. “And family comes first.”

That phrase—*family comes first*—from her mouth, after years of cruelty and lies, split something open in me. The hunger. The bruises. The mocking. The way she thrived while I withered.

A jagged laugh tore out of me, bitter and raw. My wolf surged, claws pressing just beneath the surface.

And in that moment—

I snapped.