The silence that had settled over the hall was broken by Lyra’s voice, hesitant but clear.
“Adrian took the baby to protect it,” she said, her gaze flicking between Misery and Eryon. “He said it was yours. He believed it was the only way to keep her safe from the King.”
Misery turned to Lyra, shaking her head firmly.
“That wasn’t my baby, Lyra. Adrian must have switched them. I don’t know why, but I know my child.” Her voice wavered slightly, but her resolve remained strong. “She’s still here. Somewhere in this world.”
Eryon stared at Misery, his face unreadable. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper. “I’m not sure I can allow myself to hope anymore. She’s gone.”
Misery stepped closer to him, her silver eyes locking onto his with fierce determination. “You’re wrong, Eryon,” she said, her tone sharp. “She’s not gone. She’s out there, waiting for us to find her. And we’re running out of time.”
Eryon’s gaze dropped to the floor, his fists clenching at his sides. The weight of his failure hung heavy over him, but Misery’s words sparked a flicker of something deep within—something he hadn’t felt in years. Hope.
“Misery,” he said slowly, his voice thick with emotion. “If you’re wrong…”
“I’m not,” she interrupted, her voice firm. “I’ve been wrong about many things, Eryon. But not this. I felt it the moment I woke up. She’s alive.”
Lyra stepped forward, her brow furrowed.
“If what you’re saying is true,” she said carefully, “then where do we even start? The world is vast, and sixteen years is a long time.”
Misery turned to Lyra, her expression softening slightly. “I don’t have all the answers,” she admitted. “But I know one thing: Eryon is the key. The bond between a father and his child is something even time and distance can’t break.”
Eryon straightened slightly, her words pulling him from the depths of his despair. He looked at Misery, his amber eyes glinting with renewed determination. “If she’s really out there,” he said, his voice steady, “then we’ll find her. Together.”
The room fell silent again, the weight of their resolve settling over the gathered wolves. For the first time in years, Eryon felt a spark of purpose reignite within him.
Misery nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Together,” she repeated.
Lyra, watching the two of them, couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they had a chance to right the wrongs of the past.