The forest was eerily quiet when the patrol found him. Kane lay amidst the carnage, bloodied and battered, his wolf form barely clinging to life. Warriors of his pack stumbled upon the aftermath, their faces grim as they surveyed the lifeless bodies of their comrades.“Prince Kane!” one of the warriors exclaimed, rushing to his side.Another knelt beside him, checking his pulse. “He’s alive, but barely. We need to get him back. Now.”Two wolves shifted into their human forms, carefully lifting Kane onto a makeshift stretcher. His wolf let out a weak growl, as if still fighting to protect something, but exhaustion overtook him.“We need to move quickly,” their leader barked. “He needs immediate treatment. The rest of you - search the area. See if there’s any sign of Lyra.”The warriors scattered, their hearts heavy.A Day LaterKane’s eyes fluttered open, the pale light of his room greeting him. His body ached, every muscle protesting even the smallest movement. He tried to sit up, but
Kane's POV The evening air was heavy with tension as Kane sat up in his bed, his head spinning from the effort. His body protested, but he forced himself upright, clenching his jaw against the pain. Weakness was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Not now.His wolf growled low in his mind, the sound a blend of frustration and anger.You failed her, the wolf snarled. We failed her. How could you let them take her?“I know,” Kane muttered aloud, his voice hoarse. “You think I don’t know?”The wolf snapped back, She’s our mate. We were supposed to protect her. And we let her go.Kane’s hands clenched into fists, his nails biting into his palms. “If I could go back..”But you can’t. The wolf’s tone softened, its anger tempered by a deeper pain. But we can fix it. If you’ll listen to me.For a moment, the room fell silent save for the soft rustle of the wind outside the window. Kane closed his eyes, his breathing steadying as he opened himself fully to the wolf’s presence.What do you want? K
Lyra’s eyes fluttered open, the pounding in her head making her wince. The air was damp and carried the scent of mildew, the stone floor beneath her hard and cold against her aching body. For a moment, she struggled to piece together where she was. The memories came rushing back like a wave -the ambush, the Rogue King, Seraphine’s sneer, the fight.And then… darkness.Her fingers twitched, and she realized she was still clutching the stone. Its smooth surface pulsed faintly, a comforting warmth in her palm despite the chill that surrounded her.She tried to sit up, her muscles screaming in protest. Every part of her ached, but the searing pain in her head was the worst, a deep throb that made her vision swim.Lyra groaned softly, pressing her free hand to her temple. Thalia, are you there?Her wolf stirred weakly. I’m here. We’re alive. That’s what matters.Barely.Lyra gritted her teeth, forcing herself to look around. The cell was small and oppressive, the stone walls slick with mois
Time dragged on in the damp, oppressive silence of the cell, broken only by the occasional, harrowing sound of screams from deeper within the prison. Lyra flinched every time she heard them, her heart sinking further. The cries came from other prisoners, their agony reverberating through the stone walls.Her hands curled tightly around the stone, her only source of solace. Though it glowed faintly, its light was hidden by her fingers. The warmth it radiated was the sole comfort she had in this pit of despair.Lyra’s body bore the bruises and aches of countless beatings. The guards came often, their heavy boots echoing ominously before they entered. They would shove her to the ground or drag her up roughly, hitting her hard enough to bruise but never crossing the line into true torture.Yet.That was what terrified her most. She knew the day would come when the Rogue King’s patience would run out. When words would no longer suffice, and they would begin to break her in ways she couldn’t
The training grounds were alive with the sound of sparring warriors and the clang of weapons, but Kane’s focus remained razor-sharp. He stood at the edge of the field, his arms crossed, his jaw set in a grim line as he watched his people prepare for the most dangerous mission of his life.A mission he couldn’t afford to fail.He felt the ghost of a familiar pain in his chest, a wound that had never fully healed. Memories of his first mate, her laughter, her warmth, and the devastating loss of her life flashed in his mind. It was a loss he had carried for years, a failure that haunted him every time he closed his eyes.And now Lyra.She wasn’t just his mate; she was his future, his second chance. The bond between them, though still growing, was already more powerful than anything he had ever felt. He couldn’t lose her - not again, not like this.We won’t fail her, his wolf growled, its voice reverberating in his mind.Kane closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. We said that before.That was
Lyra's POV Lyra sat in the dim light of her cell, her back against the cold stone wall. Her body ached from countless bruises, and her mind swirled with fatigue. The distant screams of other prisoners echoed through the halls, a chilling reminder of the horrors that lurked beyond her locked door.Her fingers curled protectively around the stone, its warmth a small comfort in the oppressive cold. Her wolf, Thalia, stirred restlessly inside her, a constant reminder that she wasn’t alone in this.We will get out of here, Thalia assured her, though the words felt like a distant echo.Before Lyra could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence.The door creaked open and Seraphine stepped in, her movements sharp and deliberate. She was dressed in dark leathers, her expression a mask of disdain and fury.“Well, well,” Seraphine sneered, her voice dripping with malice. “The little princess looks worse for wear.”Lyra forced herself to sit up straighter, meeting Seraphine
The night was quiet, too quiet for the storm that Kane carried within him. He stood at the head of nearly 200 warriors, their forms hidden in the shadow of the forest. His wolf growled low in his chest, an echo of the anger and determination that pulsed through every fiber of his being.This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for since Lyra was torn from him.“Is everyone ready?” Kane’s voice was steady, but the tension in it was unmistakable.One of the commanders, a seasoned Lycan named Viktor, stepped forward. “We’re ready, Alpha. Scouts confirmed the location of the Rogue King’s stronghold. It’s just beyond that ridge.” He gestured to a rocky incline shrouded in mist.Kane nodded, his sharp eyes scanning the gathered warriors. Every one of them was handpicked for their loyalty, strength, and resolve. This was no ordinary rescue mission - it was a reckoning.Kane turned back to the map spread on a makeshift table, its edges held down by rocks. “We’ll move in waves,” he said, poin
Lyra’s body jolted awake, the sharp, animalistic scream slicing through the heavy silence of her cell. It wasn’t the sound of someone in pain - it was the sound of someone unraveling, consumed by grief. The air itself felt heavier, as if mourning along with the wail.Her wolf, Thalia, stirred uneasily. That’s Seraphine.Lyra sat up slowly, her limbs aching from countless beatings. She hugged her knees, trying to steel herself against the oppressive fear that crept into her heart. The Rogue King was dead - she knew it as surely as she could feel her own breath.The scream… it’s her mourning him, Thalia said grimly. But grief like that twists. It becomes rage.Lyra clenched her fists around the stone in her hand, its smooth surface the only thing grounding her in the suffocating darkness. Time stretched unbearably, each second weighed down by the echoes of Seraphine’s cries.The door to Lyra’s cell burst open. Seraphine stood in the doorway, her once-proud posture now bent with grief. H
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
Lyra POVThe city pulsed like a living thing.Not with war drums or warning horns, not with screams or smoke. But with something gentler. Steadier. Like a heartbeat finding its rhythm again after the chaos had passed.She walked its cobbled streets alone, the sky soft and bruised with dusk, her cloak drawn close against the cool wind.She didn’t want to be recognized.Tonight, she wasn’t the Queen. Not the warrior. Not the widow.She was just a woman - a ghost, maybe - drifting through the bones of a city that had outlived too much death.The streets were cracked and uneven where the stone had split from the last quake. Ivy had begun to creep over the ruins. Not the kind born of darkness and shadow like before - but living ivy. Green. Hopeful. Unafraid.It clung to burned-out walls, softening them. Claiming them.And everywhere she looked, life had begun again.A child ran past her, barefoot and shrieking with laughter, trailing a cloth banner behind her like it was a cape. Another pu
Lyra POVThe embers still glowed behind her.Lyra didn’t look back.The scent of ash clung to her skin, tangled in her hair, curled in the back of her throat. Kane’s name lingered there, unspoken. His memory pulsed with every breath.But she did not allow it to take her. Not yet.Later, she told herself, jaw locked so tight it ached. I will mourn him later. When the war is done. When I am alone. When I am allowed to shatter.But not now.Now, there were still choices to be made. Kingdom to hold together. Monsters to face.And one of them waited for her in human form - standing beside another creature just as ancient, just as terrifying.She found them where the Hollow Grounds bled into the broken remnants of the forest - where the warded stones gave way to open earth and the burnt sky cracked with thin threads of gold.Ekreth stood with arms crossed, tall and impossibly still. The last rays of dusk caught the edges of him, casting long, sharp shadows at his feet.He had taken a human
Lyra POV The pyre stood at the edge of the Hollow Grounds, where even shadows seemed afraid to linger.Smoke curled upward in slow, lazy spirals, black against a bruised sky. The earth beneath Lyra’s boots felt scorched, barren - like it remembered too. The scent of charred wood, old blood, and unspoken goodbyes clung to the air, suffocating.She stood alone.The others waited behind the circle of warded stones, where the barrier shimmered like a ghost in the dying light. Not one of them crossed it. Not Nyxar, not Elara, not the witches who still whispered her name like a half-broken prayer. They knew this was not a moment meant to be witnessed.Grief, Lyra had learned, wasn’t something that could be comforted. It wasn’t something you wrapped in soft words or shared through tears. It was a blade, and she had been holding it for days - bleeding quietly from the inside.Now it was buried in her chest, where no one could see it but her.Kane’s body lay wrapped in his old wolfhide cloak
Lyra POV The battlefield had gone silent. Smoke drifted in slow spirals, carrying the scent of charred magic and iron. The fires were still burning, but no one moved to put them out. The witches stood frozen in their circles, eyes wide. Warriors clutched weapons they would never raise. Because all eyes were on her and on him. Kane knelt at the heart of the broken ring, cracked stone glowing with sigils that no longer pulsed. His hands dug into the earth, breath coming in ragged gasps, and his back arched in pain as the Harbinger’s presence writhed inside him - like a second heartbeat made of shadows and fire. But it was still Kane’s face. Still his eyes. Lyra stepped forward slowly. She couldn’t feel her feet. Couldn’t feel her hands. Only the pulsing ache in her chest - the last thread of their bond, frayed and bleeding. Ekreth stood to her right, arms folded, waiting like a vulture made of smoke and starlight. His wings curled inward as if to shield her from what came
Lyra POV The air reeked of blood and burning wards. From the highest spire, Lyra watched shadow creatures pour through the eastern breach - just as planned. Their forms rippled with unnatural grace, bones wrong beneath stretching skin, eyes like coals. The trap was set. Glyphs flared to life in a massive ring around the breach, turning the battlefield into a burning cage. And still they came. The creatures weren’t slowed by fire. They thrived in it. “Fall back to second line!” Elara shouted, sword dripping with black ichor. “Protect the witches! Get the civilians below-” A bolt of shadow tore past her and struck the ground at Lyra’s feet. The stone cracked. The heat of it sizzled against her skin even as she raised a shield instinctively. She spun. And there he was. Kane. No mask. No armor. Just him - worn leathers and that familiar, twisted expression of grief and rage. His eyes, however, were not his own. They blazed with the Harbinger’s mark - red, ringed in black. Hi
Harbinger POVThe darkness welcomed him like an old friend.It moved when he moved. Breathed when he breathed. Twined around his shoulders like a living mantle as he drifted through the ruins of the old forest temple, the shattered remnants of gods long forgotten crushed beneath his feet.Kane sat in the center of the stone circle, head bowed, sweat beading at his brow despite the cold. He hadn’t moved in hours.Still resisting.The Harbinger tilted his head, amused. He circled the boy slowly, boots making no sound on the broken marble. Kane’s energy flickered - unstable. Like a flame exposed to too much air.“You're unraveling,” the Harbinger said softly. His voice was silk over razors, ancient and echoing. “And still, you cling to her.”Kane’s jaw tightened. “I’m not yours.”The Harbinger crouched behind him, a whisper at his ear. “No. Not yet. But you will be.”A flick of power, and the circle of runes flared beneath them, casting everything in a red glow. Kane flinched but didn’t