Kane POV The night was too quiet.Kane sat by Lyra’s side, his fingers curled tightly around her wrist, as if his touch alone could anchor her to him.But she didn’t stir.Not once since they had left the ruins of the castle.She had always been a fighter - fierce, untamed, unwilling to yield even in the face of gods. Yet now, she lay motionless, her breathing soft, steady, but… wrong.Not once had her Lycan stirred.Not once had she reached for him through their bond.The firelit chamber in the northern stronghold was warm, but Kane felt cold.Briane hovered over Lyra, her brows furrowed in concentration as she murmured incantations under her breath. Symbols of ancient magic pulsed at her fingertips, flickering across Lyra’s skin before fading like dying embers.Nothing worked.With a frustrated sigh, Briane pulled back, wiping sweat from her brow."I don’t understand," she muttered. "Her body is… stable. No wounds, no curses, no poisons. But something is keeping her from ...""From
Lyra POVThere was nothing.No light. No sound. No sense of up or down. Only a vast, endless void.Lyra drifted, her body weightless, her mind unanchored.She tried to move, but there was no ground beneath her feet, no air in her lungs. It was like she had been ripped from existence itself.Then - a pulse.Faint at first, like a whisper through the dark.Then again. Louder. Stronger. A rhythm she recognized. Her heartbeat.The void trembled, a ripple coursing through the blackness like a stone cast into still water.And then - a presence. Low. Powerful. Ancient.“You were never meant to wake.”The voice was cold, steady, a whisper of command laced with undeniable authority.The darkness rippled again.And suddenly - Lyra was falling. The impact rattled through her bones, though there was no visible ground beneath her. Gasping, she pushed herself up, her limbs trembling.And that was when she saw her.A golden glow flickered in the distance, illuminating a figure standing still in the
Lyra POVThe chamber door opened.A presence - strong, unwavering, familiar.Lyra’s gaze lifted, and there he stood. Alpha Killian. Her father.Despite everything - the battle, the wounds, the exhaustion - he was still the mountain of a man. Power clung to him like a second skin, his aura crackling with dominance. His broad shoulders were squared, his sharp golden eyes scanning her with a mixture of relief and something deeper - concern.But there was something else. Something guarded. As if he had already guessed why she had summoned him.Lyra sat up, ignoring the way her muscles ached. Kane remained beside her, ever-watchful, his silver gaze flickering between her and her father.Killian exhaled, stepping closer. "You're awake."Lyra swallowed hard. Barely.She didn't say it.Instead, she met his gaze head-on. "I need answers."A muscle in Killian's jaw twitched. "I had a feeling you might say that."He pulled a chair closer, his heavy boots echoing against the stone floor as he sat
Lyra POVThe weight of her father’s words clung to the air like a storm waiting to break.We prepare.For what?A war against gods who had existed before time itself? A battle against something no mortal could ever hope to understand?Lyra’s fingers curled into fists against her lap, her nails biting into her palms. Every instinct in her screamed that something was wrong, something beyond the devastation left behind by the Demon God.She had survived. But at what cost?The presence inside her had not faded.The First Queen still lurked in the shadows of her soul, coiled like a predator biding its time. Lyra could feel her - not an overwhelming force taking control, not yet, but there. A whisper at the back of her mind, a weight that had settled into her very bones.A force that did not belong to her.Kane’s grip on her hand was steady, grounding. But even he couldn’t quiet the turmoil inside her.Across from her, her father watched, his sharp amber eyes filled with something unreadabl
Lyra POVThe flickering lamps lining the corridor cast elongated shadows on the stone walls as Lyra followed her father into the war room. The weight of what she had asked settled heavily on her chest, but she did not waver.She needed answers.Kane walked beside her, silent but present, his silver eyes watchful. He had been there when the First Queen had taken over her body - he had spoken to her - and now, he would hear the truth alongside her.Killian dismissed the guards stationed outside the chamber before stepping in, his presence commanding as ever. The heavy wooden doors groaned shut behind them.The room was dimly lit, with a large, circular table in the center, covered in old maps and ancient texts. The scent of parchment and aged leather filled the space, mingling with the faint traces of smoke from the brazier in the corner.Killian remained standing, arms crossed over his chest. "What do you know of the First Queen?" he asked.Lyra inhaled sharply. "Only what the historie
Lyra’s POVThe chamber was silent after her father’s final words, but inside her mind - inside her soul - there was no silence.The First Queen was awake.She could feel her, a whisper in the back of her thoughts, a presence curling around her consciousness like smoke."You are not ready."Lyra stiffened, her nails digging into her palms.She had spent her life believing she was in control of her own destiny. That her choices, her victories, and her losses were her own. But now?Now, she wasn’t just herself anymore.The First Queen’s presence had been lingering since the moment she woke after the battle with the Demon God. At first, it had been subtle - a whisper here, a flicker of something in the corner of her mind. But now, it was like an ember catching fire, waiting to consume.Lyra closed her eyes, exhaling slowly."You are my heir."The words weren’t just memories. They were hers - the Queen’s voice brushing against her thoughts, curling into her mind like it belonged there.No.
Lyra’s Point of ViewThe northern stronghold was vast, its foundations built into the heart of the mountain itself. Hallways of cold stone stretched endlessly, twisting in intricate patterns as if the fortress had grown like roots over time, each tunnel a passageway to secrets long buried.Lyra followed her father in silence, her boots echoing against the polished floors as they descended deeper into the stronghold. The torches lining the walls flickered, their golden light barely reaching the shadows that seemed to press in from every side.She could feel it.The weight of history. The whispers of those who had come before.They were walking into the old places - the ones that had not been disturbed in centuries.Killian had said little since they left the war room. His expression remained unreadable, but Lyra didn’t miss the tension in his shoulders, the slight furrow in his brow.Finally, he spoke. “The archives were sealed after the war between the First Queen and the Demon God. N
Lyra’s POVThe hours passed in silence.Scrolls, tomes, fragmented stone tablets - each one an ancient whisper from the past. Some were barely legible, their ink faded with time, while others had been written in languages Lyra didn’t recognize.She had lost track of how many books they had opened, how many records they had scoured. And yet, the truth remained just beyond reach, like a shadow retreating from the light.Her father stood across from her, his fingers tracing the edge of a brittle parchment. He hadn’t spoken much since her vision. But Lyra could feel it - his mind turning over the same thoughts, the same questions.Lyra frowned, thinking back to the battlefield in her vision. The crown. The blood. The chains forged by the gods themselves.“She wasn’t meant to be a ruler,” Lyra murmured. “She was meant to destroy. But something stopped her.”The air in the archive felt heavier.Killian crossed his arms, his gaze flickering toward the deeper, unsearched shelves of the archive
Lyra POV The silence lingered after Thalia’s growl had faded. A silence that felt fuller now. Less like an absence and more like a promise.Lyra sat in the dust until the ache in her body returned, dull and real. Her palms were scraped, her muscles trembling from the strain of holding herself together for too long.Behind her, she felt Nyxar shift. She turned slowly.He stood near the edge of the temple, framed by broken columns and shafts of sunlight cutting through the crumbled roof. The wind stirred his dark cloak, and in the light, the silver of his eyes caught fire.“You saw her,” he said, not a question.Lyra nodded. “She didn’t speak. But she didn’t leave.”“That’s more than most get.”He walked toward her, steps almost soundless. For once, the air around him didn’t feel cold. Just heavy. Old. Like the ruins themselves.“What happens now?” she asked. “With the Harbinger? With… Kane?”Nyxar’s jaw tensed at the name.“He’s not gone,” Lyra said softly. “Not completely.”“No,” Nyx
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