Drevon POV Drevon struggled to his feet, his body aching from the relentless chase and the punishing collapse of his own magic. The figure stood before him, shrouded in shadow and authority, their presence suffocating the air around them. Every instinct in Drevon screamed to fight back, to seize control, but the strange power emanating from this being was unlike anything he had encountered."You’ll help me fix what you’ve broken," the figure repeated, their voice calm yet unwavering.Drevon straightened, masking his exhaustion behind a sneer. "You presume much. Who are you to command me?"The figure chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. "You’ve forgotten your place, Drevon. Or perhaps the loss of the stone has dulled your memory." They took a step closer, and the darkness around them seemed to pulse in tandem, closing the space between them in an unnerving rhythm.With a flourish of their hand, the figure cast aside their hood, revealing a face both human and otherworldly. Their ski
Lyra POVA Day Before The camp was quiet, the soft crackle of the fire the only sound in the still night. Lyra sat cross-legged outside her tent, her amber eyes fixed on the glowing embers. The night had a heavy stillness that clung to the air, making her fur prickle even in her human form. She had barely slept since the battle, haunted by the faces of those she had lost and the searing memory of her clash with Drevon.Inside her chest, the stone thrummed faintly, its power ever-present but quieter than before. It had grown stronger since the last encounter, almost as if it had absorbed some essence of the battle. But with its growing strength came a growing weight, pressing against her spirit like an unrelenting tide.Her wolf, Thalia, stirred within her mind."You can’t keep ignoring it, Lyra.""I’m not ignoring it," Lyra murmured aloud, her voice soft but edged with frustration. She glanced around, but no one was near enough to hear. Kane was patrolling the outskirts of the camp w
The clearing hummed with the latent energy of the golem, its hulking form casting long shadows as it stood before Lyra. Its eyes glowed with an unnatural light, the essence of the stone pulsing within its core. The ground beneath it was blackened and cracked, as if the earth itself had recoiled from its creation.Lyra could feel the creature’s power coursing through the air, resonating with the stone embedded in her chest. Her fingers tingled, and Thalia’s voice growled softly in her mind."This isn’t just a creature. It’s a weapon."Lyra swallowed hard, stepping closer despite the tension rippling through the group behind her. Kane’s hand hovered near the hilt of his sword, and Killian’s sharp eyes never left the golem. But Lyra raised her hand, a silent command for them to stay back.The golem tilted its massive head, its glowing eyes narrowing as if studying her. It didn’t move to attack, but the weight of its presence pressed heavily on her chest.“What’s it waiting for?” Kane ask
The night air was heavy, tinged with the distant scent of charred wood and scorched earth. The stillness was deceptive, wrapping the camp in an eerie quiet that only amplified the sudden, sharp pain tearing through Lyra's chest. She gasped, her amber eyes snapping open as though dragged from a deep, restless sleep.It wasn’t just a twinge of discomfort; it was a searing, violent sensation, like claws raking through her very soul. She clutched at her chest, her nails digging into the fabric of her tunic as though the pressure could stop the pain. The stone embedded within her pulsed faintly, its once vibrant energy now a shadow of itself, a weak and dying echo.Inside her mind, Thalia’s growl rumbled low and threatening, a sound thick with anger and grief."Something’s wrong," the wolf growled. "It’s gone. We’ve lost it."“Gone?” Lyra whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of the realization. Her breaths came shallow and quick as the connection - the delicate thread that had te
The forest pressed in on them like a living thing, every tree a silent witness to the growing dread. The air was heavy, damp with the promise of danger. Each rustling leaf and snapping twig sent jolts of unease through the party as they moved in formation. The faint glow ahead - the unnatural light that twisted the edges of the valley in hues of sickly green - brightened with every step, its source hidden yet insistent.Kane raised a hand sharply, and the group halted. His voice was low, his tone uncharacteristically grim. “Something’s off. It’s too quiet.”Lyra adjusted her grip on her blade, the weight familiar but somehow less comforting. The forest felt wrong - thick with a presence that watched and waited.Thalia’s growl rumbled in her mind. "They’re near, Lyra. They’re watching. I can taste their malice."“Stay sharp,” Lyra whispered, barely audible, her words more for herself than the others.The moment stretched, the quiet pressing against their ears like a physical force.The
Drevon POV Drevon stood in the heart of the swirling smoke, the air around him thick with the acrid scent of magic. Aelindra’s voice, low and melodic like a siren’s call, filled the unnatural fog as she wove her spell. Tendrils of shadow coiled and writhed at her feet, rising to meet her outstretched hands.“It’s time,” she said, her crimson eyes glowing with an eerie light. “The gateway is ready.”Drevon tightened his grip on the hilt of his blade, his pulse quickening. The moment had come, the culmination of weeks of planning and years of resentment. He turned to his warriors, a handpicked force of their strongest and most ruthless, their faces obscured by the flickering shadows.“Stay sharp,” he commanded, his voice sharp as steel. “This is our moment. No mercy, no hesitation. The Lycan throne falls tonight.”Aelindra moved her hands in a slow, deliberate arc, and the fog began to shift, forming a dense portal that shimmered with an otherworldly hue. Drevon felt the pull of her po
Lyra POV The camp had settled into an uneasy silence, the kind born of exhaustion and uncertainty. Fires flickered faintly in the pre-dawn gloom, their light casting long shadows over the solemn faces of the warriors. Lyra sat near the largest fire, her amber eyes fixed on the horizon, as if willing answers to emerge from the darkened woods.The battle hours earlier had left them shaken. Aelindra’s twisted presence still clung to her mind, like an echo that refused to fade. She tightened her grip on the hilt of her blade, the cool steel grounding her against the storm of emotions churning inside her.Nearby, Kane stood speaking with Killian and a small group of scouts, his tone low but firm. He exuded the steady presence of a leader, but Lyra could see the faint tension in his jaw, the slight hunch in his shoulders. He was carrying the weight of their survival, even as questions about Aelindra and Drevon lingered like an unspoken curse over them all.Thalia’s growl rumbled in her mi
Kane POV The camp buzzed with subdued activity as the Lycans worked under the shadow of the capital. Fires flickered across the outskirts of the city, their golden light dancing against the encroaching darkness. Kane stood at the edge of the camp, the bitter wind tugging at his cloak. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tight as he surveyed the shattered remnants of his people.The devastation was more profound than anything he had imagined. The city that had once thrived with life and the unyielding pride of his kind was now a husk of its former glory. Buildings that had stood for centuries were reduced to rubble. Streets that had echoed with laughter and the rhythmic cadence of warriors training were now silent, except for the cries of survivors and the low murmur of soldiers tending to the wounded.Kane drew a slow breath, his chest tight. Every fiber of his being yearned to let go - to rage, to mourn, to crumble under the weight of his father’s death and the
Nyxar POVThe wind whispered through the crumbling bones of the temple, stirring dust and leaves like forgotten prayers. Shadows clung to the corners of the broken sanctuary, quiet and still, as if holding their breath.Nyxar sat on the edge of the old altar, elbows resting on his knees, eyes cast toward the open ceiling where a single shaft of sunlight pierced through the cracked stone above. Lyra was nearby - silent, present. She didn’t fill the space with questions or noise. She simply was. Her stillness steadied him more than she likely realized.He drew a breath, deep and grounding. The scent of old stone, ash, and moss filled his lungs.This place had once been sacred. Once, his kind had come here to speak to the Moon. To pray. To transform. The divine had moved in these walls.Now it was dust and ruin.Like him.He tilted his head back, eyes slipping closed. The mark along his forearm - once the seal of his divinity - was dull now. No longer a flare of power. No longer a curse
Lyra didn’t speak.She stepped quietly to the side and settled onto a patch of moss, legs folded beneath her, spine straight as a sentinel. The moonlight slid in through the broken rafters above, painting her hair in silver. Her presence was steady - not pressing, not retreating. Just there. She could Nyxar stayed kneeling, fingers grazing the fractured stone where once an altar had stood tall and gleaming with divine light. His hand traced the worn runes, fingers slipping over grooves long eroded by wind and time.“This is where I fell,” he said after a while, voice low. “Not in battle. Not before a blade. Here. In the temple.”Lyra looked toward him, but said nothing. She didn’t need to.“I was given a choice.” His gaze fixed on the stones. “To let them die… or to fall. Become immortal. To give up the throne. My power. My life. My mortality. Everything.”His jaw tightened. “I didn’t hesitate. Not for one breath. I gave it all for them. For the ones who cried out in my name.”“And
Nyxar POV The corridor felt quieter than it had ever been. As if the walls themselves held their breath, watching the once-immortal god relearn the rhythm of mortality. Nyxar leaned slightly against Lyra as they moved - her arm steady beneath his, her touch warm and sure.He paused beside one of the archways, exhaling slow. The torchlight flickered over his face, casting golden highlights into the dark growth of stubble along his jaw.“I need to see it,” he murmured. “The old sanctuary. The ruins.”Lyra turned her face toward him, brows lifting. “Now?”Nyxar’s gaze was distant, tethered to memory and something deeper - pulling at him like the moon pulled at tides. But then hiis stomach growled. Loud and unmistakable.He blinked. She blinked. And then she laughed.Not the soft, guarded sound he’d grown used to, but a real laugh - light and almost surprised, like she hadn't expected it from herself.He glanced down at his own stomach and muttered, “Apparently, being mortal comes with i
Nyxar’s POVThere was no pain at first.No sound. No color. Only the hollow thrum of memory drifting through a void where even time dared not exist. Here, in this formless silence, everything Nyxar had been - god, warrior, monster - unraveled.His name echoed once, a ghost of thunder across a dark sea. Then it dissolved. Nyxar. Once a name that cracked mountains and bled stars. Now, meaningless.The world beyond had vanished. Only the impression of a face lingered, etched into the dying light of his thoughts. Lyra. Her warmth, her tears, the feel of her hand in his - real in a way nothing else had been in centuries. He’d given everything to protect her. To save her.He thought it had been the end. But something remained. A flicker. An ember buried beneath the ash.He reached for it - not with hands, but with the fragile echo of thought. There was no body here. No form. Just awareness stretched thin like dying flame. The divine part of him - once radiant and vengeful - was crumbling.
Lyra POV Ekreth was gone again. For a long moment, she simply sat there, the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders. Duty waited outside that door. An entire kingdom will look to her now - broken, battered, but victorious. They had won the war. The Harbinger was gone. The seal was locked and nothing should get through to this world.And Kane… Kane was gone too.The thought carved another raw wound through her heart. She pressed a trembling hand against her chest, as if she could hold the pieces of herself together a little longer. She was Queen. There was no one else. She can't hide here.The heavy cloak of authority settled around her shoulders. She did not look at Nyxar. She couldn’t. Not yet.A soft knock stirred the heavy silence.Lyra blinked slowly, pulling herself out of the half-daze she'd sunk into. Her fingers still curled around Nyxar’s, reluctant to let go. She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to face whatever waited beyond this quiet, broken moment.Th
Lyra POV The door clicked softly shut behind Ekreth, leaving her alone with Nyxar and the sound of her own heartbeat.For a long time, she didn't move.She sat there, hands folded on her lap, staring at the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the blanket. Each breath was a fragile miracle. A proof that he still lived - that he hadn't slipped away entirely into whatever place gods went when they died."You stayed", Thalia murmured inside her, voice warm and thick with emotion."I had to."Lyra answered numbly."No, Lyra. You chose to."Lyra's chest ached at the words.She hadn't thought about it. Not really. When Nyxar’s light began to break apart, when the world had turned inside out - she had moved without hesitation. Without calculation. As if something inside her had already decided long before she knew it herself.But that didn't mean she understood it. Or that she wanted to.A heavy silence filled her mind."He matters to you", Thalia said softly, without accusation.
Lyra POV The silence that followed didn’t feel like peace. It felt like the world had forgotten how to breathe.Stone dust hung in the air like smoke, fine and pale, drifting slowly down in spirals from the vaulted ceiling above. Runes that had once blazed with ancient light were now dark and broken, their power spent. Cracks split the floor like veins across a dead heart.And at the center of it all, Lyra sat on her knees in the ruins of the seal - her hands tangled in Nyxar’s coat, her breath coming in ragged, uneven pulls.He was warm. That was the only thing she could hold onto.He was warm.His chest rose and fell beneath her fingers, slow but steady. His body, usually tense with power, now felt strangely soft in her arms - boneless, weighty. And his face…His face looked peaceful.Not serene. Not untouched. There were shadows under his eyes, ash on his skin, and gold still faintly glowing at the corners of his mouth. But there was no pain now. No fight left in him.Just… peace
Nyxar POVThe earth still quaked when the light began to fade. Not with the blinding fury of battle, nor with the blood-red chaos of war - but with something quieter. Heavier. Like the echo of a heartbeat after it stops.A sacred breath held too long… finally exhaled.Nyxar stood at the heart of the chamber beneath the castle - boots braced against fractured stone, the runes beneath his feet flickering like dying stars. The seal pulsed in front of him, threads of gold and shadow unraveling into the dark like veins torn open.Ekreth stood beside him, tall and monstrous in his truest form - wrought of shadow and old bone, his wings hunched tight against the low ceiling, scraping stone as they twitched.The air thrummed with old power. The kind that didn’t belong to the world above.Nyxar didn’t flinch.And before them in one moment the gate was gone. No fire. No rupture. No tearing in the fabric of the world. Just… closed. Like it had never been there at all.Nyxar’s chest was a war dru
Lyra POV - Dawn The sky held no warmth when morning came.It broke over the horizon like a blade - pale and cold, slicing through the hush that had settled over the city. No birds sang. No bells rang. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.Lyra stood alone in the highest tower, watching the first light seep into the edges of the world. The city still slept below, curled into itself like a creature trying to heal. She could see the rooftops where ivy climbed, the market square where sweetbread had been shared, the fountains where pups had splashed. All the places that had made her heart ache the night before.Her eyes were dry now. Her chest hollowed and quiet, the way it always felt after grief had burned itself down to embers.The shirt she’d held all night was gone. Folded. Left behind. Like a prayer she couldn’t take with her.She wasn’t bringing Kane into this. This was hers to carry. This was her moment to end what First Queen couldn't. Gave up what gods turn her into.The rit