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
Kane held Lyra for a moment longer, just letting the steady rhythm of her breath calm the storm inside him. The weight of the battle was still heavy on his chest, but in this moment, with her alive and safe, everything else seemed to fade away. His mind raced, as it always did after a fight - calculating, planning, and trying to make sense of the chaos. But for now, he allowed himself to just breathe.He pulled back reluctantly, still keeping a protective arm around her waist. His eyes swept the room, the aftermath of the battle strewn across the floor - bodies of the fallen, broken crates, and discarded weapons. The stench of blood filled the air, but there was also something else, something faint but sharp. The air still crackled with the remnants of magic, the energy from the stone Lyra had so fiercely protected.We need to get you out of here, Kane thought to her, his voice filled with urgency but also a deep sense of relief. The others are securing the perimeter. You’re safe now,
Lyra sat on a worn, half-buried stone, the remnants of what might’ve once been an altar. Light streamed through the broken ceiling above - slanted, gold-tinged sunlight that pierced through the dust and fractured glass. The air here still thrummed with old power, magic older than any living soul could remember. And somewhere behind her, Nyxar lingered in the shadows, silent.She hadn’t spoken since the dream.Her hands rested limply on her knees, stained with dust and blood. Her eyes were fixed on the far wall where vines crawled over carved glyphs, half-erased by time and ash.“Do you remember what this place was?” she asked softly, unsure why she spoke aloud.Nyxar’s voice came like the stir of wind. “It was where we made promises. The first pacts. The first betrayals.”Lyra turned her head toward him slowly. “And you brought me here because…?”His gaze didn’t meet hers. “Because the temple still remembers. Even when the gods forget.”She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her body s
Lyra POV As Lyra stood beside Nyxar, the haze lifted, revealing more of the ruins that stretched beyond the immediate carnage. Crumbled walls half-swallowed by ash and time. Statues toppled. Towers broken. It was like walking through a graveyard built for gods.He moved ahead of her in silence, his long cloak trailing like smoke. Lyra followed, drawn forward despite the ache in her chest. She could feel the echo of magic here - raw, broken magic, older than any she had ever touched.“This was your home?” she asked quietly, though the answer pulsed in her bones.“It was,” Nyxar replied, his voice distant. “A long time ago. Before I became what I am now.”He stopped before a shattered archway. Vines had overtaken the stone, and in its center lay a deep scar carved into the earth, as if something had been ripped from it violently.“What happened here?” Lyra asked, stepping beside him.He didn’t look at her. “I had a mate once.”The words hit her like a thunderclap. Her breath stilled.“
The tent around Lyra was dim, the pale blue light of dawn barely seeping through the canvas. For a moment, she didn’t breathe. Her body ached, her skin prickled, and her heart thudded like a war drum beneath her ribs.Nyxar’s voice still echoed faintly in her mind. "Go to the temple ruins. Alone."She sat up slowly, wincing as every joint protested. The shirt clung to her skin with a mix of sweat and dried blood. The bowl of now-cold water on the table beside her remained untouched since last night, just as the plate of food had gone uneaten. Her stomach curled at the thought of it.Her gaze drifted to the opening of the tent. The barrier was up again - she could feel the thrum of its magic, steady but strained. The witches had worked through the night. So had the warriors. She wasn’t sure who had dragged her back from the battlefield after Ekreth vanished with Kane and the Harbinger. She only remembered the rage. The pain. The silence Thalia had retreated into deepest parts of her, l
Lyra POV The city felt like a graveyard.Not because it was empty, but because it wasn’t. The people had returned - cautiously, with bowed heads and silent eyes - but the air held the weight of something sacred lost. The Hollow Grounds beyond the barrier still burned faintly with the remnants of their battle. The smell of ash clung to everything.They entered through the eastern gate in silence. No one spoke. The warriors moved with grim determination, their weapons still bloodstained. The witches were pale and exhausted, many of them barely on their feet. But they made it.The barrier, though cracked and faltering, had been reforged. A tether of silver light shimmered faintly over the walls, patched and held together by runes and raw willpower. It wasn’t perfect. But it was enough - for now.Lyra said nothing as she passed beneath it. She felt the familiar hum of protection brush against her skin like a sigh, but there was no comfort in it. Not anymore.They returned to the same mak
Lyra POV The world had narrowed into silence. The kind that came after heartbreak. After devastation.The bond was gone. And the Harbinger stood above it all, smiling.A smug, inhuman smile that split his face like a wound. He turned slowly, savoring the moment, as if feeding off the ruin he had wrought.“I expected more from you, little wolf,” he said, voice velvet and rot. “But I suppose it was too easy, wasn’t it? A whisper here, a memory there... and your king tore himself apart for me.”Lyra couldn’t move. Could barely breathe.Every part of her felt hollow, carved out by the echo of Kane’s rejection. Even Thalia had gone silent, her presence curled up in some hidden corner of Lyra’s soul, wounded and refusing to rise.But there was something else now. Buried under the grief. Under the pain. It started as a flicker. A tremor in her fingertips. A breath drawn too sharply.Rage.The Harbinger kept talking, but she didn’t hear the words anymore. She only heard the blood pounding in
Lyra’s POVThe darkness was suffocating. Cold, biting, like something had clawed its way inside her, twisting every corner of her mind into a void. She had been lost in that space - unable to move, unable to breathe, stuck in a place between life and death.But then, there was light.A soft, gentle pull at the edges of her consciousness, like the first breath of fresh air after a suffocating storm. Her senses, one by one, came back to her.She could hear again.The faint hum of the wind, the crackle of the fire in the distance. The sounds of a world that hadn’t stopped turning, even though hers had.She could feel.The weight of her body against the cold ground, the pressure in her chest slowly lifting, replaced by a dull, aching emptiness. It was a hollow feeling, like something was missing… something important.She could see.The world came into focus, blurry at first, then sharp and clear. Her vision adjusted, and she saw… him.Kane.His tall form was standing before her, his back
Kane's POV Kane’s heart thundered in his chest, the storm in the sky only a reflection of the chaos inside him. His grip on his sword tightened, knuckles white. He barely felt the sting of the Harbinger’s dark presence pressing against him - more like an itch at the back of his mind than a physical threat.The Harbinger’s voice slithered like venom, a dark lullaby meant to seduce, to tear apart the last fragments of his will."You protect them, Kane," the Harbinger whispered, his eyes glinting with ancient knowledge. "You think you do it for love, for honor. But what is honor when it shatters? What is love when it weakens you? You are the protector. You need power. Control."The words dug into his skin like knives, twisting in a place that had never known peace. There was truth in them, wasn’t there? The responsibility, the weight of it all - the lives of the people he swore to protect. He had always been the shield. The protector.But the truth, the painful truth the Harbinger spoke
Lyra POV The Hollow Grounds pulsed beneath her boots like a thing alive.Darkness churned on the horizon. A storm not born of clouds or rain, but shadow and raw, ancient hunger. The sky bled crimson at the edges, unnatural and seething. Around her, the witches formed their line, magic crackling like flares beneath their skin. Soldiers stood behind them, tense, blades drawn. Kane to her right. Nyxar to her left.And ahead - him. The Harbinger.He stood as if carved from the bones of gods, the corrupted echo of something once noble. His lips parted in a smile. “Ah. There you are.”And his voice - silken, knowing - brushed across the battlefield like a caress laced with venom. “Kane.”He didn’t shout. He didn’t need to. The name echoed with power.Kane tensed. Lyra saw it in the line of his shoulders, the shift in his weight. Her heart clenched.“You’ve always belonged to me,” the Harbinger said. “Before time gave you another name. Before loyalty chained you to the lesser.”Lyra stepped
Lyra’s POVThe world trembled as the battle began.Lyra had prepared herself for a monstrous form, for the shape of something inhuman. But what stood before them was a nightmare given flesh. The Harbinger wore the form of a man - tall, broad-shouldered, his dark armor clinging to his frame like a second skin. His hair was swept back, revealing a face carved from ice, sharp angles and regal cruelty. His piercing golden eyes glowed in the darkness, twin suns in an endless void.It was the face of the First King. And it was nearly identical to Kane’s.Lyra felt Kane tense beside her, his grip tightening around the hilt of the First King’s sword.A slow smile curled the Harbinger’s lips. "You feel it, don’t you?" His voice was deep, resonant, laced with something ancient and terrible. "The bond between us. You were made for this, Kane. You carry my blood, my legacy." He took a step forward, power radiating from him in sickening waves. "Come to me, my son."Kane stiffened as if struck.Lyr