Blagmoor Castle passed around her in the blink of an eye, Rylan all but sprinting to a part of the castle she had yet to see. The room was painted a soft, eggshell blue, the ceiling above her as white as could be. Dimly, she heard her mate curse as she lay on a bed in what she realised to be a medical room of sorts. There were cabinets on one wall, locked by the looks of them, each of them stocked with various bottles with labels she couldn't make out. Her leg throbbed, a whimper escaping her with every surge and ebb of pain. It was different to before. Venom and poison hurt her far worse than any blade, or so she was discovering. "Lyra?" A hand patted on her cheek, and she could only blink blearily as she stared up into those icy blue eyes. They were so terribly beautiful, even with worry shining within their depths. "Lyra, stay with me..."

Dimly, she could hear something ringing, and she stared blandly at the object in her mate's grasp. A phone, pressed flush to his ear as he called someone. The door slammed open then, the sudden noise making her flinch as spots danced about in her vision. Familiar blue locks appeared in her sight then, and a wordless mumble escaped her then. "What happened?" Blu asked, and Lyra thought he might have actually looked the slightest bit concerned. "You only went out for a run. An impromptu run, but a run nonetheless."

"There was a snake—Dammit, Hunter!" Lyra blinked then, realising Rylan was answering the phone instead. "Are you close to Blagmoor?" Her eyelids felt heavy then, chest feeling heavy and Lyra wasn't entirely sure why. It was a different pain to that of her leg. "My mate was bitten by a snake... Yes—We're inside Blagmoor Castle Grounds... A black and red one, I think—I didn't get that clear of a look—Lyra, don't close your eyes!"

His voice sounded far away, as though it were coming from underwater. Were her eyes closed? Her brow furrowed then, and she wrenched her eyes open.

Purple greeted her, glowing as they peered at her from murky waters. He was there again, and unlike the time in those waters before, she couldn't move. Her body hurt, muscles seemingly locked as she struggled to piece things together. Where was she? She was supposed to be in that pale room with Rylan watching over her. So how had she ended up there? She didn't understand. How was it possible...? Unless...

"A dream?" she whispered, voice sounding crystal clear, despite the apparent water surrounding them in those murky blue waters which always seemed to sap away every colour except purple. "Who...?"

Chains rattled then, a wrist bounded by a shackle and chain reaching out to brush against her face, even as she hung there, suspended upside-down by the greyish, clouded waters. "My herald," he whispered again, the word spoken so lovingly. "I must say... you do get grievously injured far too often, love..." His fingers brushed the back of her head, a strong arm pulling her closer. "My clumsy, insecure little herald..."

Lyra blinked slowly, her mind groggy as she stumbled over her memories. Everything felt clouded and murky. Her body felt as though she was trying to move in thick, gooey treacle whenever she tried to muster up the energy to swim or do something. Anything. But all she could seemingly do was squint at him, unsure of anything and everything which had been going on in her life as of late. "Who are...?"

"Oh, little herald, you know who I am," he purred, purple eyes lighting up in delight. "How could you not?" Purple lightning flickered then, rolling around his body in little crackles, and Lyra frowned because—

Because he was familiar. Beyond the one weird dream she'd had. "Where have I—?"

"Shall I remind you then?" he asked, a roguish grin curving at his lips, and then the murky waters all around her started to bubble. Lyra stared at him though, uncaring as to the strange phenomenon occurring around her, transfixed on that smile on his face. One which sent shivers down her spine. One which told her the man before her was undoubtedly dangerous. He radiated power – a kind which was intoxicating and addicting – but Lyra couldn't get much of a feeling for the strange spectre beyond that, because it was then everything shifted.

The world changed in the blink of an eye then suddenly she was no longer trapped in that strange ocean. Snow coated the branches of the tall tree, the sight making Lyra sigh and shudder. She remembered seeing the snow outside far too often, thanks to the harsh winters of the northern area where the base of Omega Taurus lay. Though they had probably moved by then, what with her and the other two morons' successful escape. Lyra chewed on her lip then. She had freedom in Blagmoor, and they hadn't hurt her the way those rogues had.

Laughter bubbled from the forest behind her then, childish and merry, and Lyra could only blink at the small girl with a shock of red curls who came sprinting out from the snow dusted trees. She passed through her legs, and Lyra blinked as her legs reformed like the whisp of a spirit. "What?" she mumbled then, staring between her and her younger self.

"A memory, herald, or don't you remember what I just told you?" Lyra jumped, spinning around to find the spectre of the chained male standing there beside her. Purple locks floated as though trapped in a personal, permanent breeze, violet eyes boring into her own with an unnerving intensity.

"Rose! Rose!" Child Lyra called, spinning around a short ways in front of the back door of the building before them. "Come on! Matron Millicent said we're having visitors!"

A click of a tongue sounded, and Lyra could only blink as another figure walked through her as though she didn't exist. "How many times do I have to tell you?" an annoyed boy's voice rang out then, ashen blonde hair fluttering behind him. "My name isn't Rose, idiot!"

"But you're certainly as pretty as one!" Little Lyra declared, and the boy's ears turned an unmistakable shade of red.

"Ah yes, you were quite the sweet talker as a child," he whispered in her ear, voice full of wry amusement as they watched the two children venture inside the house. "Such a shame that those nasty rogues got a hold of you... You would have had everyone wrapped around your finger otherwise. A worthy skill for one meant to reign beside the King of Alphas."

"I don't have such a skill," Lyra said then, hands curled into fists as the purple spectre added yet another item to the long list of things which Omega Taurus had stolen from her. "Not anymore."

He appeared in front of her then, no longer lingering behind her out of her immediate sight, purple eyes narrowed and hard. Purple hair fluttered then, caught up in a fierce wind she couldn't see. Shivers ran down her spine, as though someone had poured a bucket of icy water over her, and her own eyes widened. Her tongue felt as dry as the desert, legs trembling then as she found herself feeling a crushing presence before her. "Do you want them eradicated, those who've hurt you so?" he asked, and Lyra blinked a couple of times. There was no warmth in his expression. No hint of any sort of joke, and Lyra knew deep in her bones then, that if she said yes, Omega Taurus would never trouble her again.

All she would have to do was say yes. A simple three-letter word, and all her troubles would vanish, just like that, taken care of at the hand of that strange purple spectre whose intentions Lyra couldn't quite figure out.

But it would be the same as if she buried herself in the overwhelming safety Rylan radiated for her. She needed to find her way back to her mate... he was worried... Lyra frowned then, realising those purple eyes were still boring into her own, cold and deadly. "No," she said at last, her own eyes narrowing then as she straightened herself. "I can take care of that myself."

He blinked, tilting his head then, seemingly taking a few seconds to process what she had said. She could tell the exact moment it all registered though. That terrifying expression vanished, replaced by one of dark amusement which still sent shivers running down her spine. "Of course," he murmured, sounding oddly reluctant. "Hmm..."

"What's wrong?" she asked, staring at the building before her, glancing between her spectral companion and the contents of the apparent memory.

"The show is about to start, herald," he said then, eyes sparkling with something akin to glee as the rumble of an engine sounded. Tilting her head, Lyra could only watch as the cars arrived, each of them four-by-fours designed for carrying a larger number of people than the usual cars she had seen before. Doors clicked open, and Lyra could only blink at the ones who climbed out. Some were unfamiliar, but at least two of them she had seen rather recently.

Elders were ones to make impressions after all, and it wasn't like Lyra could forget Frost's father, nor the black-haired elder who had accompanied him. Zen and Blythe. "Is this the place then?" Blythe asked, dark blue eyes fixed upon the building. The orphanage she had grown up in, or so she was coming to realise.

"Indeed."

The figure had Lyra blinking, eyebrows drawn together as she stared at the terribly familiar figure with inky black locks and eyes of the palest blue. "Rylan?" she whispered.

"Not quite," her purple spectre purred.

"Father?" A small, childish voice sounded then, and Lyra blinked at the smaller clone of the male who resembled her mate so. "Is this the place?"

"Rylan!" A woman climbed out of the car then, all blonde locks and eyes the colour of chocolate. "Don't just run off," she scolded, hurrying to miniature Rylan's side. "Honestly..."

"Sorry, mother," Rylan murmured, pouting then. "I was... caught up in my excitement."

Rylan's father let out a loud chuckle then, hand ruffling in the inky black locks which resembled his own so. "He's just excited. Rumour has it the last of the next generation is here... and Ry is just a bit anxious to find the last of his future subordinates."

Rylan hunched his shoulders then, chewing on his lip as he stared determinedly at the ground in front of him.

Lyra drifted away from the family then, venturing over to where Blythe, Zen, and another elder with black hair spoke in hushed voices. "Though if the last boy with Alpha Eyes is here... then I do hope Extalia haven't got their claws stuck in him."

"Well, that rumour is why so many of us came..."

"Extalia?" she echoed. The name sounded familiar, but Lyra didn't have the foggiest of where she had heard the distinctive name before.

"Mmh," her unhelpful spectre grunted, inclining his head towards the orphanage where her younger self waited. "The real show is inside the building though... that's where all the fun stuff happens today."

"Fun stuff?" she queried.

"Why don't you go and have a look?" He turned then, walking over towards the building without another word. Lyra didn't quite know what was happening indoors. There were elders – though admittedly, getting her timeline right, they would have still been alphas at that point in time – outside, and she didn't know what could be more intriguing than that. Still, she followed her mysterious purple spectre, letting him guide her through a building she could no longer remember.

She couldn't recognise the brunette in the kitchen either, though she supposed that was to be expected, given she couldn't really recall anything much of her past.

"I told you the interesting stuff was happening here," he said, eyes gleaming with humour and malice.

Frowning, Lyra peered at what the woman was doing, eyes widening as she spotted the brunette pouring a few drops of a clear substance onto one of the plates of food. She didn't add anything to the rest. It was just that one. Mind racing, she glanced between the woman and where she knew the elders were. But the food wasn't for them. It was the breakfast for the children who resided in the orphanage. Her brain worked overtime, struggling to try and piece together the entirety of the situation.

"So..." Her brow furrowed, eyes racing about the room as things clicked together, like the pieces of a complicated puzzle. "That lady... works for Extalia... and she was trying to poison the child with Alpha Eyes then..."

"Hmm..." Her purple spectre smiled then. "Not quite."

"What?"

He laughed then. "You were close. That woman did work for Extalia."

"Then what did I get wrong?" she asked, genuinely curious as to what exactly had gone on in her past.

"The person poisoned on this fateful day."

Lyra blinked. "But... there's nobody else who'd be worth poisoning..."

He frowned, purple eyes boring into her intently. "You're wrong."

"Who?"

"Silly," he said, sighing as he shook his head. "My, how you underestimate your own worth so." Purple eyes stared into her own then, disappointment crossing his face for reasons Lyra couldn't quite work out. "Dear herald, she was poisoning you."