<h4>Chapter 592: Same Story, Centuries Apart</h4>


    <strong>Evaline:</strong>


    I flipped the page with a quiet sense of anticipation, my fingers already tingling as I prepared to read more of Lyssara’s journey.


    I was genuinely excited this time - not just curious, not just hungry for answers, but... something deeper. Lyssara wasn’t just the third divine healer of the Silver Wolf Pack. She was the first woman to ever carry that title.


    If anyone could offer a perspective I hadn’t yet found in Aurelion’s pages, it would be her.


    I barely had time to let that thought settle when a soft knock sounded against my bedroom door.


    The sound pulled my attention away from the book instantly, my gaze lifting toward the door as I said, "Come in."


    I already knew who it was.


    The mate bond hummed gently in my chest, warm and familiar, even before the door opened.


    Oscar stepped inside.


    He was already showered, his hair still slightly damp, dressed in a simple ck set of night pajamas that somehow managed to make him look both rxed and unfairly attractive. His presence alone shifted the atmosphere of the room... calmer, warmer, safer.


    His gaze immediately dropped to the massive book resting on myp, recognition flickering in his eyes. He paused just inside the doorway instead of heading straight for the bed like he usually did, his posture hesitant.


    "Did I interrupt you?" he asked quietly.


    The concern in his voice made my heart soften.


    I shook my head quickly. "No. Not at all. Come here."


    He still hesitated, clearly torn between wanting to be close to me and not wanting to disturb whatever fragile focus I had carved out tonight. I patted the empty space beside me on the bed, smiling at him.


    "Really," I said. "Come."


    That finally did it.


    Oscar closed the door behind him and walked over, climbing onto the bed with careful movements. He settled beside me, close but not intrusive, and what struck me most was that his gaze never once drifted toward the book. It stayed on my face, as if I was the important thing here... not the centuries-old secrets sitting between us.


    I swallowed past the unexpected emotion that rose in my throat.


    "I want to read a little more," I told him softly. "If you don’t mind resting here."


    His answer was immediate, instinctive.


    "Of course I don’t mind."


    He slid under the nket, his warmth pressing into my side as one of his arms snaked around my waist. I was still sitting upright, but he fit against me easily, burying his face against my side and the pillows with a quiet sigh that told me he had been more exhausted than he let on.


    Once he wasfortable, once his breathing evened out and his presence became a steady, grounding weight, I turned my attention back to the book.


    I took a breath.


    And began to read.


    The shift in tone was immediate.


    Unlike Aurelion, who had written with the careful detachment of someone recording history, Lyssara wrote like she was pouring her soul onto the page. Like the book wasn’t meant for future generations at all, but for herself. A ce to anchor her thoughts before they swallowed her whole.


    Her first entry had been raw, emotional, brimming with shock and disbelief at how her life had changed overnight. Bing divine healer. Being summoned by the Alpha. Being handed a book that carried secrets.


    But as I started reading her second entry, my breath caught.


    I blinked once.


    Twice.


    And then my heart skipped so hard I had to pause reading altogether.


    Lyssara wrote about finding her fated mates.


    I slowly lifted my gaze from the page, staring nkly at the wall ahead as the words sank in.


    She had found them barely a month after her healing power awakened.


    Not one.


    But two.


    I looked back down, my fingers tightening around the edges of the page.


    Her mates were the pack’s beta and his younger brother.


    Lyssara wrote how, even four centuries ago, it was rare. Almost unheard of. A female mated to two wolves... both powerful, both deeply rooted in the pack’s leadership.


    The way she described it made my chest ache.


    She wrote about the pull she felt the first time she stood near them, about how her knees nearly gave out when the bond snapped into ce. About the confusion and disbelief that followed... wondering if she was imagining things, if the Moon Goddess had made a mistake.


    She hadn’t even known such a bond was possible.


    Lyssara described how the beta had gone pale when he realized, how his younger brother hadughed in disbelief before the bond mmed into him just as fiercely. How they all had been stunned into silence.


    But the bond didn’t care.


    It never did.


    I felt Oscar shift slightly against me, his arm tightening around my waist as if he sensed the change in my emotions even without knowing why.


    My chest felt... tight.


    Warm.


    Lyssara didn’t shy away from her emotions on the page. She wrote about joy - pure, overwhelming joy - about feeling wanted for the first time in her life. Chosen. Cherished. Not because of her power, not because of her sudden importance, but because of who she was.


    She also wrote about fear.


    Fear of losing herself. Fear of being pulled in too many directions at once. Fear that she wasn’t strong enough to carry all of it... the healing power, the pack’s expectations, and the bonds tying her heart to two people.


    Her second entry ended with a line that made my throat close.


    <i>I do not know where to focus my heart. On learning the power that saved my life... or on learning the men who now hold it.</i>


    I exhaled shakily, my vision blurring for just a second.


    The parallels were impossible to ignore.


    I wasn’t just reading history anymore.


    I was reading something dangerously close to my own reflection.


    A female divine healer.


    Multiple mates.


    Confusion. Overwhelm. Joy tangled with fear.


    Four centuries apart, yet somehow... the same story repeating itself.


    And for the first time since I had opened the record book, a realization settled deep in my bones... quiet, heavy, and impossible to ignore.


    This book wasn’t just meant to teach me how to use my power.


    It was meant to remind me that I wasn’t alone.


    That others had walked this path before me.


    And that, no matter how impossible it felt right now, they had survived it too.