The weight of the vision clung to Lyra like a second skin - suffocating, inescapable.She barely remembered how she and Kane made it out of the ruins beneath the castle. Her pulse still pounded from what she had seen - what she had felt.The Grand Stone wasn’t just a relic. It was a prison.And worse - it had cracked.Two fragments had broken from it during the battle - one must have ended up in her bloodline. The other… Drevon’s.But Drevon’s piece of the Stone was gone.She had destroyed it.The memory was still a haze, buried beneath the rush of battle, but the truth was undeniable. She had shattered his fragment - and absorbed its power.Even now, something inside her felt different. Stronger.More than that, though - Drevon had still fought, still wielded his magic. As if the Stone had never been the true source of his power at all.That was the part that disturbed her the most.If his magic didn’t come from the Grand Stone… then where did it come from?Neither she nor Kane spoke
Lyra’s POVThe room felt heavier once Alpha Killian left, the weight of their conversation still lingering in the air.Lyra exhaled slowly, her mind racing.The Grand Stone. The Crown. Drevon’s unnatural power. Her mother’s secret.So many missing pieces. So many dangers lurking just beyond their reach.And yet, despite the storm raging in her thoughts - her body was painfully aware of Kane.He stood across from her, silent, his fingers still resting on the desk where his father’s journal lay. The candlelight cast flickering shadows over his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders.But it was his eyes that held her still - dark, unreadable, yet burning with something just beneath the surface.Something that had been building between them for far too long.Kane leaned back against the desk, arms crossed. “You’re quiet.”Lyra swallowed, forcing herself to focus. “I’m thinking.”He smirked. “That’s dangerous.”She rolled her eyes, but the teasing note
Lyra POVLyra stirred, the first hints of morning light filtering through the heavy curtains. The warmth against her skin wasn’t just from the sunlight - it was from the solid form beside her, his arm draped over her waist, holding her close.Kane.For a moment, she allowed herself the luxury of stillness. Of breathing him in - the scent of pine and embers clinging to his skin, the slow, steady rhythm of his breath against her shoulder.Last night had been… intense. Not just in the way their bodies had tangled in heat and need, but in the way the world had seemed to fade beyond these walls. For the first time in what felt like forever, she hadn’t been a warrior, a queen, or a daughter carrying the weight of prophecy.She had just been his.And he had been hers.But the moment couldn’t last forever.Lyra shifted, careful not to wake him as she sat up, the sheets pooling at her waist. The stone at her chest pulsed lightly, a reminder of everything they had uncovered.The Grand Stone. Th
Drevon POVDrevon stood at the edge of the ruins, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and something older - something raw. The remnants of stone archways loomed around him, shadows stretching long under the weight of the dying sun. This place had once been a stronghold, a temple, a prison. Now, it was a graveyard of forgotten power.And yet, power still lingered.He ran his fingers over the deep etchings in the stone, the ancient runes humming beneath his touch. The magic here was fractured but not broken. It could be reforged, reshaped. Used.A low hiss slithered through the silence.“They know.”Drevon did not turn immediately. He had felt the presence before it spoke, before it even arrived. It moved like smoke - silent, fluid, insidious.“They were always going to know,” he murmured, his voice calm despite the storm beneath his ribs. He glanced over his shoulder, meeting the piercing silver gaze of Aelindra.She stepped closer, the folds of her dark cloak whispering against
Lyra was drowning.Not in water, but in darkness - vast, endless, pressing in from all sides. It clung to her like thick fog, swallowing every breath, every sound, every thought. The silence was oppressive, stretching infinitely, until the first whisper curled through the void.Soft at first. Then another. And another.The whispers layered upon each other, some frantic, others coaxing, all slipping between her fingers like water whenever she tried to grasp their meaning. A language lost to time, a song of secrets too old to understand.Then came the pulse.A slow, rhythmic thrum beneath her feet, like a heartbeat. But it wasn’t hers. It was something else - something buried deep beneath the earth, trapped, waiting.Lyra turned, though the darkness gave her no bearings. There was no up, no down, no horizon. Just the pulsing presence ahead of her.A pressure built in her chest, cold and unrelenting. It squeezed the air from her lungs, as if invisible hands were reaching through the void
The castle groaned around them like a living thing.Lyra stood frozen in the dim torchlight, her pulse hammering in her ears. The stone beneath her feet pulsed in time with her heartbeat, sending waves of unseen energy spiraling outward. It was wrong - all of it - the way the air had thickened, the way the walls trembled as if something deep within them had stirred.Kane was already moving.His golden eyes flicked toward her, sharp and assessing. “Lyra...”“I know,” she breathed, her fingers curling around the still-glowing stone at her chest.Another tremor rippled through the castle. This time, it wasn’t subtle. The walls shuddered, dust raining from the ancient beams overhead. Down the corridor, doors slammed open, and distant voices rose in confusion. The guards were waking, warriors roused from their slumber by something they couldn’t yet name.But Lyra knew.The Grand Stone.It had called to her in her dreams, in her visions, and now, its power was bleeding into the world.“We
A roar like thunder shook the chamber, rolling through the stone walls with the force of a storm. Dust and shards of ancient rock rained from the ceiling as the Grand Stone split wide open, its veins of silver light shattering into a storm of wild energy.Lyra barely had time to react before a pulse of darkness surged outward, slamming into her chest like a tidal wave.Pain lanced through her, sharp and raw, as the force sent her skidding backward across the cold floor. Kane was already on his feet, sword in hand, snarling as he planted himself between her and the widening rift in the Grand Stone.From within its depths, something moved.A hand - black as the void, etched with burning runes of crimson and gold - tore through the opening, gripping the jagged edges of the stone as if climbing out of a grave.Then, it emerged.The Demon God.It was neither fully corporeal nor entirely shadow, its form shifting between muscle and smoke. Black tendrils of darkness coiled from its shoulders
A low growl vibrated through the stone walls, deep and guttural, like the sound of mountains breaking apart. The Demon God loomed over them, a shifting mass of darkness, its form twisting between monstrous and spectral, never fully solid, never fully real.But its presence was undeniable - a weight in the air, a suffocating pull of power that made even the walls of the ancient chamber tremble.And then there was the word Aelindra had spoken.“Father.”The name hung between them like a curse, but there was no time to question it.The Demon God moved.A surge of darkness lashed out, an expanding force that swallowed light as it ripped toward them. Lyra felt the weight of it, an overwhelming tide of void magic meant to consume everything in its path.She threw herself sideways, barely avoiding the attack as the ground where she stood moments before was obliterated, cracked apart like dry earth under a hammer. Shards of broken stone exploded outward, and the air filled with the acrid scen
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
The sky cracked open.Darkness poured like a flood across the Hollow Grounds, swirling in violent eddies, twisting with the force of the Harbinger’s will. The shattered remnants of the barrier flickered behind them - dying magic, breaking apart.There was no more protection. No more walls. The city’s last shield had fallen.Lyra’s heart pounded as she stared at the figure standing at the edge of the Hollow Grounds. The Harbinger.His golden eyes gleamed like dying stars, hollow and endless. His form, once lost to time, now stood before them in terrifying clarity. The First Lycan King. His power pulsed like a second heartbeat in the air, thick and suffocating.Kane hadn’t moved.Lyra glanced at him - his face was carved from stone, his grip white-knuckled on his sword. But she knew what he was feeling. The weight of his bloodline. The horror of looking into the past and seeing it twisted into something unrecognizable.The Harbinger tilted his head, his gaze locking onto Kane like a pre
The fire burned low, casting flickering shadows over the tense figures gathered around it. The night stretched long and restless, the air thick with unspoken fears. Lyra sat at the edge of the circle, fingers flexing against the hilt of her sword. Kane stood beside her, unmoving, his gaze locked on the barrier’s glowing arc in the distance.The weight of the inevitable pressed down on all of them.Nyxar hadn't moved since the Harbinger’s last whisper faded into the night, his golden eyes watching the horizon beyond the barrier, where the Hollow Grounds lay in waiting. The witches murmured amongst themselves, their magic lingering in the air like a silent, unseen hum.Then - the barrier pulsed. Slightly weaker now. No one spoke the words, but they all felt it in their bones.The next attack would not be a test. It would be the final breach. The realization settled over them, thick and suffocating.Kane was the first to break the silence. "We can’t wait for him to come to us." His voice
Lyra’s POVA deep, guttural sound reverberated through the stone beneath Lyra’s feet, sending a tremor up her spine. The lamps lining the walls flickered violently, their light bending unnaturally as if disturbed by an unseen force. The council chamber, already thick with tension, fell into an uneasy silence.Then came the second tremor - stronger this time. Dust trickled from the high-arched ceiling, and the heavy wooden table at the center of the room groaned under the sudden shift.Kane’s hand was on his sword before Lyra had the chance to speak. His body tensed beside her, muscles coiled as his sharp eyes scanned the chamber.The council members stirred uneasily, their anxious whispers breaking into urgent murmurs.“What in the gods’ name was that?” One of the elders, Lord Ildren, leaned forward, his weathered face pale with uncertainty.“The city is protected,” Lady Corva said sharply, though her fingers curled against the armrest of her chair. “Nothing should be able to-”Anothe
Lyra POV Lyra walked with purpose through the dimly lit corridors of the castle, each step echoing softly against the ancient stone walls. She could still feel the weight of the council’s words pressing down on her, their doubts clinging to the edges of her mind like shadows that refused to be shaken off. But she wasn’t going to let them consume her.She had made her decision. Now, she needed to be ready.The chamber that held the First Queen’s belongings was deep beneath the castle, hidden away from the world. Lyra was once here with her father. The torches lining the walls flickered as Lyra and Kane descended the spiral staircase, the air growing colder the further they went.At the bottom, massive doors of black iron awaited them, etched with ancient runes that pulsed faintly under Lyra’s fingertips as she pressed her palm to the cold metal. The seals recognized her blood, her power, and with a deep groan, the doors unlocked, swinging open to reveal the chamber beyond.A hush fell
The grand hall of the council chamber was eerily quiet as Lyra and Kane stepped inside. The room, bathed in muted light from the high, arched windows, seemed to hold its breath. The members of the council - elders from every corner of the kingdom, each of them powerful, respected - sat at their long, polished table. Their eyes were trained on her, but it wasn’t just curiosity that lined their gazes. It was a heavy, suffocating mix of concern, fear, and suspicion.Lyra felt the weight of their stares, each one an invisible pressure on her chest. The air seemed thick with unsaid words, too many emotions coiling together in a silent storm. As she walked further into the room, her silver eyes flickered over the council members - each a pillar of power in their own right - and she couldn’t help but notice the way they recoiled from her presence, as though her very being unsettled them.The whispers were already starting.“I told you it would come to this,” Elder Varick muttered from the fa
Lyra POV The air in the corridor felt thick, pressing against Lyra as she ran. Her feet barely made a sound on the stone floors, but her mind was roaring, the heavy weight of what she had just witnessed haunting every step. The shadows above the city - something had shifted. The magic in the air had twisted, turned darker, and for the first time, she had felt the very essence of fear curling around her bones.Lyra didn’t stop to question the urgency in her movements. She only had one thought - Kane. She needed to find him, needed to feel his strength, his calm presence to steady the growing panic inside her.As she reached the door to their quarters, her breath hitched. Her hand was shaking as she pressed it to the handle, pushing the door open just enough to slip inside. The familiar warmth of their shared space embraced her, but the air in here felt different now - tense, like a storm was gathering just beneath the surface.“Kane?” she called softly, stepping further in, her voice
Lyra’s POVThe air in the chamber was thick with something unseen, something pressing. Lyra exhaled slowly, trying to shake the restless energy curling through her veins. Across from her, Nyxar stilled, his dark eyes narrowing as if he, too, had felt it.It wasn’t just unease. It was something else - something shifting beneath the surface of reality.A slow, pulsing force.Ancient. Wrong.Lyra’s fingers twitched at her sides. She turned to Nyxar, meeting his gaze. “You feel it too.”Nyxar didn’t answer immediately. He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something just beyond the reach of mortal hearing. Then, quietly, “Yes.”Her pulse quickened. “What is it?”For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then, with measured slowness, he turned toward the archway leading to the terrace. “Come.”Lyra followed, her steps brisk but silent as they moved through the halls. The further they walked, the heavier the air became, charged with something unnatural. It wasn’t just her imagination - eve
Nyxar’s POVThe council chamber emptied in slow, uncertain waves.Some left in silence, their faces unreadable. Others lingered in hushed groups, murmuring behind hands and cloaks, their whispered fears curling through the air like smoke. Nyxar didn’t need to hear them to know what they were saying.She’s changed.She’s unnatural.She cannot be trusted.His lips curled in the barest sneer as he leaned against a shadowed pillar, arms crossed. Fools. Cowards.They sat in their high seats and clung to their old ways, blind to the tides shifting beneath their feet. Did they truly believe the Harbinger would spare them if they turned against Lyra now? Did they think they had another choice?He watched them scatter like frightened birds, saw the doubt etched into the lines of their faces, the hesitance in their step.Weakness.This was the rot that always seeped into kingdoms before they fell - the hesitation to do what was necessary, the fear of the unknown outweighing the threat already a