Lyra POV When she finally repeated the Queen’s last words - The gods have not finished their design.Her father exhaled slowly. For the first time, he looked… unsettled.“She meant you,” he said at last. “They created her for war. And now…” His gaze flickered to her.Lyra swallowed hard. “I don’t know what they want from me.” Her voice was quieter than she intended. “But I can feel it, Father. Like something inside me is waking up.”Killian was silent for a long moment. Then, finally, he said, “You need to learn everything about her.”Lyra blinked. “I already...”“Not just what she was,” Killian cut in. “But what she became.”Lyra frowned. “You think she found a way to escape the gods’ control?”Killian’s gaze darkened. “She must have. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be here now. Inside you.”A shiver ran through her.She had felt Aelthira’s rage. Her defiance. She wasn’t just lingering in Lyra’s soul. She was waiting.Waiting for something. But what?Before Lyra could say anything else, a
Lyra’s POVThe air shifted.It was subtle at first - a faint pressure at the back of Lyra’s skull, a whisper too soft to hear yet impossible to ignore. Then came the cold. A sharp, unnatural chill, crawling up her spine, settling deep in her bones.Something was watching them.Kane noticed it, too. His grip on his sword tightened, golden eyes scanning the shadowed corners of the archive. Killian exhaled slowly, his face unreadable, but Lyra could feel his unease like a tangible force.Then - a whisper.Soft at first. A voice just beyond reach, threading through the silence like smoke.The sound sent a bolt of instinctive dread through Lyra’s chest. She turned sharply, her gaze landing on one of the oldest murals carved into the walls.And then she saw it. The mural had changed.It wasn’t possible. Stone did not shift, nor did carved figures alter themselves after centuries of being untouched. Yet here it was.The battle scene once etched in time - the First Lycan Queen standing agains
Third POVThe storm came without warning.One moment, the northern stronghold stood under a cold, starless sky, its towers looming over the mountain pass like silent sentinels. The next, the wind howled through the craggy peaks, shrieking like an enraged beast. The heavens split open, jagged lightning illuminating the snow-covered cliffs in flashes of violent white.But it wasn’t just a storm.Something was moving within it.High above the fortress, the clouds churned unnaturally, spiraling like a great vortex. The air itself vibrated with an ancient force - something raw, something wrong. The very stone of the mountain trembled, deep cracks splintering across the walls of the fortress.Then, the first scream rang out.A sentry, stationed atop the western tower, staggered back from the battlements, his spear clattering to the ground. His eyes were wide, his face twisted in horror."Gods help us," he whispered, before falling to his knees.More screams followed as warriors pointed skyw
The northern stronghold's archives were colder than the mountain air outside. Hidden deep within the fortress, the chamber was carved directly into the rock, lined with ancient shelves filled with scrolls and tomes older than the kingdom itself. The flickering torches barely pushed back the heavy shadows, making the air feel thick - like something unseen was watching.Lyra stood at the center of the room, surrounded by Kane, Briane, a few scholars, and three witches.They were cloaked in midnight blue, their faces obscured by embroidered veils, except for their sharp, knowing eyes. These were The Moon-Bound Sisters, an elusive coven that had lived on the outskirts of lycan lands for centuries. Though many distrusted witches, they had been summoned at Lyra’s request - because she knew the First Queen’s knowledge alone wouldn’t be enough.The oldest of them, Siora, knelt beside the table where the recovered scripts lay, her gnarled fingers brushing against the parchment. The runes glowe
The council chamber was heavy with silence, the weight of their predicament pressing down on them like an unrelenting force. Maps and old texts were scattered across the stone table, their edges curling from age and use. The flickering torches along the walls cast long shadows across the gathered leaders - Lyra, Kane, Killian, Commander Aldric, and several war chiefs."We cannot stay here much longer," Killian said, his silver eyes scanning the room. "The capital is defenseless. If the Harbinger moves toward it, we will lose everything before we even have a chance to fight."Kane exhaled sharply, leaning forward with his forearms braced against the table. "We’re stretched too thin. If we take our forces back now, we’ll be vulnerable. But if we wait too long, we risk losing control over the city entirely."Lyra’s fingers traced the worn parchment of an ancient document before her. The scripts they had retrieved from the sealed chamber held answers - but deciphering them would take tim
The capital stood once more.What had been a ruin of broken stone and shattered streets only hours ago was now whole again, rebuilt with power that defied nature itself. The witches had woven their magic through every brick, every foundation, rethreading the city’s bones into something stronger than before. The great palace, once torn apart by war, now loomed over the capital like an unyielding guardian.Yet, despite its renewed splendor, something felt... incomplete.Lyra stood at the highest balcony of the palace, the cold wind whipping against her skin. Below, the people of the capital moved cautiously through the newly restored streets, their awe and hesitation battling in equal measure. They did not trust the peace - not yet. They had seen too much ruin to believe in miracles.Beside her, Kane’s golden eyes flickered with a knowing intensity. "You feel it too," he murmured. It wasn’t a question.She nodded, arms crossed over her chest as if the weight of uncertainty could be cont
The weight of the world had been pressing down on them for too long. Battles, burdens, ancient forces clawing their way into the present - there had been no room for anything else. But tonight, in the flickering firelight of their chamber, there was no war, no Harbinger, no First Queen whispering in Lyra’s mind.Tonight, there was only them.Kane stood before her, his silver eyes darkened with something deeper than desire - something raw, aching. His hands, always so steady in battle, trembled slightly as they traced the contours of her face. He was holding back.Lyra wasn’t.She surged forward, crashing her lips against his, her fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt, gripping him like she was afraid he would disappear. Kane let out a low growl, deep and possessive, before lifting her effortlessly, pressing her back against the stone wall."Say it," he murmured against her lips, his breath hot, his voice rough with restraint.Lyra’s pulse pounded. "Say what?""That you’re mine
Lyra POV The dawn came too soon.Lyra stirred beneath the heavy furs, feeling the warmth of Kane still wrapped around her. His arm was draped over her waist, holding her possessively close, his breath steady against the crook of her neck. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to sink back into the quiet peace of their shared night, her fingers lightly tracing the scar along his forearm.But reality was waiting.A soft knock echoed through the chamber doors, followed by a voice laced with urgency."My Queen, the council is waiting," Aldric called from the other side. "We’ve received reports from the capital."Lyra exhaled, her fingers tensing against Kane’s arm."Ignore him," Kane muttered against her skin, his grip tightening as he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to her shoulder. "Just a little longer."A smile ghosted her lips, but the weight of responsibility was already settling over her again. She turned in his arms, brushing her fingers along his jaw. "If we ignore him, he’l
Lyra POV Ekreth was gone again. For a long moment, she simply sat there, the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders. Duty waited outside that door. An entire kingdom will look to her now - broken, battered, but victorious. They had won the war. The Harbinger was gone. The seal was locked and nothing should get through to this world.And Kane… Kane was gone too.The thought carved another raw wound through her heart. She pressed a trembling hand against her chest, as if she could hold the pieces of herself together a little longer. She was Queen. There was no one else. She can't hide here.The heavy cloak of authority settled around her shoulders. She did not look at Nyxar. She couldn’t. Not yet.A soft knock stirred the heavy silence.Lyra blinked slowly, pulling herself out of the half-daze she'd sunk into. Her fingers still curled around Nyxar’s, reluctant to let go. She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to face whatever waited beyond this quiet, broken moment.Th
Lyra POV The door clicked softly shut behind Ekreth, leaving her alone with Nyxar and the sound of her own heartbeat.For a long time, she didn't move.She sat there, hands folded on her lap, staring at the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the blanket. Each breath was a fragile miracle. A proof that he still lived - that he hadn't slipped away entirely into whatever place gods went when they died."You stayed", Thalia murmured inside her, voice warm and thick with emotion."I had to."Lyra answered numbly."No, Lyra. You chose to."Lyra's chest ached at the words.She hadn't thought about it. Not really. When Nyxar’s light began to break apart, when the world had turned inside out - she had moved without hesitation. Without calculation. As if something inside her had already decided long before she knew it herself.But that didn't mean she understood it. Or that she wanted to.A heavy silence filled her mind."He matters to you", Thalia said softly, without accusation.
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