The sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the capital cloaked in the quiet embrace of evening. Smoke from the funeral pyres hung heavy in the air, mingling with the faint, bitter tang of ash and charred wood. The city that had once stood proud now lay broken, its streets scarred by destruction, its people burdened by the weight of loss. Yet, as the final rays of twilight faded into night, the survivors gathered, united by their grief and a shared resolve to honor the fallen.The grand square outside the castle had become a solemn assembly. Hundreds of bodies, lovingly gathered from across the city, were laid upon neat rows of funeral pyres. Each one bore a token of the life it represented - simple keepsakes of loved ones, a weapon once wielded, a piece of cloth that carried a lingering scent of home. Among them, set apart on a grand, towering pyre, lay the body of the king.Kane stood at the forefront of the crowd, his silhouette framed by the flickering torches held aloft by the warr
Lyra's POVA sharp chill bit into Lyra’s bare feet as she crept through the darkness, clutching her thin, tattered blanket close to her chest. The air was heavy and damp, lingering with the earthy scent of the river that lay just beyond the pack’s territory. She hugged the blanket tighter around her bruised arms, hurrying down the narrow path that twisted away from the cell and into the woods. Every step sent pain lancing up her legs, but she pushed forward, guided by the soft glow of moonlight and the thought of the cold, cleansing water waiting for her.Lyra curled into a tight ball on the cold, hard ground of her cell, a thin blanket pulled over her to ward off the chill. The dampness seeped through, biting at her skin, but it was nothing compared to the anguish twisting inside her. Each day bled into the next, a haze of pain and despair, and today was no different.The soft trickle of the nearby river could be heard through the stone walls, a haunting reminder of freedom she could
Lyra's POV Lyra moved quietly through the banquet hall, head down, doing her best to go unnoticed. Tonight was her eighteenth birthday, though no one knew- or cared. In her world, birthdays weren’t celebrated. They were just another reminder that she was alone.She could hear laughter and music echoing through the hall, a stark reminder of the life she was excluded from. Her hand shook slightly as she cleared plates, but she pushed her emotions down, focusing on her tasks. It was just another night. She had learned not to expect anything more.“Happy birthday, Lyra.” A gentle voice echoed in her mind.Lyra stilled, surprised. Her wolf, a spirit that had always felt more like a dream than reality, had only recently begun to speak to her. Lyra was grateful for her presence, but also confused; she didn’t even know her wolf’s name.“Thank you… I didn’t know you could talk to me like this,” Lyra thought back, feeling a strange warmth. “Do you have a name?”“My name is Thalia,” her wolf re
Lyra's POVLyra’s body lay sprawled on the cold, hard cot in her cell. She could feel herself drifting in and out of consciousness, caught in a haze of pain and darkness. Her skin burned, her muscles ached, and every breath seemed to bring fresh waves of agony.A soft light appeared as the door to the cell creaked open. The healer, a kind-faced woman named Elara, stepped inside, her brows drawn in sorrow as she looked down at Lyra’s beaten form. Kneeling beside her, Elara worked silently, pulling out cloths and ointments from her bag. With gentle hands, she began to clean Lyra’s wounds, her fingers careful around the worst cuts.“Evelyn crouched beside her, setting down a small lantern that cast a dim, comforting light into the dark cell. Her hands worked with practiced tenderness, gently brushing Lyra’s hair back from her bruised face. Lyra felt the healer’s touch and blinked, trying to focus, but the ache of her injuries weighed heavily on her."Oh, child…” came a voice, soft and sa
KANE'S POV Kane leaned back in the leather seat of the sleek black SUV as it sped down the winding forest road. The trees blurred past, casting shadows that stretched and shifted in the evening light, but his focus was elsewhere, a low, instinctual feeling thrumming beneath the surface. He could feel it - a strange pull, a silent hum at the edge of his awareness. Something was waiting for him at Blackstone, something more than just another formal visit to oversee pack relations.Beside him, his commander and close friend, Thorne, studied him with a curious look.“You look tense,” Thorne observed, a small grin lifting the corner of his mouth. “Rare for you. Worried about the Blackstone Pack?”Kane gave a low chuckle, his eyes still fixed out the window. “Not worried. Just… prepared.”Thorne raised an eyebrow. “Prepared? This pack is known for its devotion to you and your father. They’re on their best behavior, eager to stay in our good graces.”“That’s exactly what bothers me,” Kane m
Kane's POVKane’s arms tightened instinctively around Lyra as he carried her down the hall, her limp form barely stirring against his chest. Her skin was cold, her breathing faint but steady, and he could feel every scar, every bruise, as he held her close. Each mark on her skin seemed to sear into his own, fueling a fury that made it nearly impossible to keep his Lycan from taking over completely.They arrived at the guest quarters, and Kane shot a pointed look at the pack servants hovering nearby. “Prepare a room. I want it spotless and warm, and I want it now.”One servant nodded quickly, darting ahead to open the door to one of the best guest rooms in the house. Kane entered, lowering Lyra carefully onto the bed, brushing a tangled strand of hair away from her face. She looked so small, so fragile, lying there against the crisp sheets. His heart twisted, both in protectiveness and outrage.“Penelopa,” he called, signaling his own healer. She stepped forward, her expression calm ye
Aiden POV Aiden stood at the edge of the grand hall, watching from the shadows as the Lycan Prince strode through the pack house with an air of authority that had everyone’s attention. It had been less than a day since the Prince’s arrival, and already, everything had changed.But the change that bothered him the most? The way Kane had reacted to her.Lyra.Aiden clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he recalled the humiliating scene earlier. Kane, the almighty Lycan Prince, had found her broken and bleeding in the cells beneath the pack house. There had been a flicker of shock, then fury in the Prince’s eyes when he realized what had been done to her.Why did it bother him so much? Why did Lyra matter to a Prince?Aiden shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but the image of her haunted him. He’d thought he was done with her. He’d rejected her for a reason - she was beneath him, an Omega, a nobody. But seeing her fragile form, seeing her clinging to life wit
Aiden's POVAiden paced furiously in his quarters, his fists clenched, his thoughts tangled. Every fiber of his being, every nerve, screamed for him to act, to reclaim what had been taken from him. His wolf stirred restlessly inside him, snarling with frustration. She’s ours. How could you let him touch her?The sharp reminder made Aiden’s heart pound with anger. He’d cast Lyra aside, yes, but that was before he realized the depth of their connection. His rejection had been a mistake, and now Kane, the Lycan Prince, thought he had the right to claim her? The very thought twisted Aiden's gut with jealousy and rage.He could feel his wolf pushing against his control, demanding action, demanding blood.You’ll have to fight him, his wolf whispered darkly. You’ll have to take her back.Aiden gritted his teeth, imagining Kane’s smug face, the way he looked at Lyra as if she were something to be pitied. He wouldn't stand by and let Kane steal her away. Not without a fight.He couldn’t ignore
The sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the capital cloaked in the quiet embrace of evening. Smoke from the funeral pyres hung heavy in the air, mingling with the faint, bitter tang of ash and charred wood. The city that had once stood proud now lay broken, its streets scarred by destruction, its people burdened by the weight of loss. Yet, as the final rays of twilight faded into night, the survivors gathered, united by their grief and a shared resolve to honor the fallen.The grand square outside the castle had become a solemn assembly. Hundreds of bodies, lovingly gathered from across the city, were laid upon neat rows of funeral pyres. Each one bore a token of the life it represented - simple keepsakes of loved ones, a weapon once wielded, a piece of cloth that carried a lingering scent of home. Among them, set apart on a grand, towering pyre, lay the body of the king.Kane stood at the forefront of the crowd, his silhouette framed by the flickering torches held aloft by the warr
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
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
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
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
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 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
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
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