Lyra's POVA sharp chill bit into Lyra’s bare feet as she crept through the darkness, clutching her thin, tattered blanket close to her chest. The air was heavy and damp, lingering with the earthy scent of the river that lay just beyond the pack’s territory. She hugged the blanket tighter around her bruised arms, hurrying down the narrow path that twisted away from the cell and into the woods. Every step sent pain lancing up her legs, but she pushed forward, guided by the soft glow of moonlight and the thought of the cold, cleansing water waiting for her.Lyra curled into a tight ball on the cold, hard ground of her cell, a thin blanket pulled over her to ward off the chill. The dampness seeped through, biting at her skin, but it was nothing compared to the anguish twisting inside her. Each day bled into the next, a haze of pain and despair, and today was no different.The soft trickle of the nearby river could be heard through the stone walls, a haunting reminder of freedom she could
Lyra's POV Lyra moved quietly through the banquet hall, head down, doing her best to go unnoticed. Tonight was her eighteenth birthday, though no one knew- or cared. In her world, birthdays weren’t celebrated. They were just another reminder that she was alone.She could hear laughter and music echoing through the hall, a stark reminder of the life she was excluded from. Her hand shook slightly as she cleared plates, but she pushed her emotions down, focusing on her tasks. It was just another night. She had learned not to expect anything more.“Happy birthday, Lyra.” A gentle voice echoed in her mind.Lyra stilled, surprised. Her wolf, a spirit that had always felt more like a dream than reality, had only recently begun to speak to her. Lyra was grateful for her presence, but also confused; she didn’t even know her wolf’s name.“Thank you… I didn’t know you could talk to me like this,” Lyra thought back, feeling a strange warmth. “Do you have a name?”“My name is Thalia,” her wolf re
Lyra's POVLyra’s body lay sprawled on the cold, hard cot in her cell. She could feel herself drifting in and out of consciousness, caught in a haze of pain and darkness. Her skin burned, her muscles ached, and every breath seemed to bring fresh waves of agony.A soft light appeared as the door to the cell creaked open. The healer, a kind-faced woman named Elara, stepped inside, her brows drawn in sorrow as she looked down at Lyra’s beaten form. Kneeling beside her, Elara worked silently, pulling out cloths and ointments from her bag. With gentle hands, she began to clean Lyra’s wounds, her fingers careful around the worst cuts.“Evelyn crouched beside her, setting down a small lantern that cast a dim, comforting light into the dark cell. Her hands worked with practiced tenderness, gently brushing Lyra’s hair back from her bruised face. Lyra felt the healer’s touch and blinked, trying to focus, but the ache of her injuries weighed heavily on her."Oh, child…” came a voice, soft and sa
KANE'S POV Kane leaned back in the leather seat of the sleek black SUV as it sped down the winding forest road. The trees blurred past, casting shadows that stretched and shifted in the evening light, but his focus was elsewhere, a low, instinctual feeling thrumming beneath the surface. He could feel it - a strange pull, a silent hum at the edge of his awareness. Something was waiting for him at Blackstone, something more than just another formal visit to oversee pack relations.Beside him, his commander and close friend, Thorne, studied him with a curious look.“You look tense,” Thorne observed, a small grin lifting the corner of his mouth. “Rare for you. Worried about the Blackstone Pack?”Kane gave a low chuckle, his eyes still fixed out the window. “Not worried. Just… prepared.”Thorne raised an eyebrow. “Prepared? This pack is known for its devotion to you and your father. They’re on their best behavior, eager to stay in our good graces.”“That’s exactly what bothers me,” Kane m
Kane's POVKane’s arms tightened instinctively around Lyra as he carried her down the hall, her limp form barely stirring against his chest. Her skin was cold, her breathing faint but steady, and he could feel every scar, every bruise, as he held her close. Each mark on her skin seemed to sear into his own, fueling a fury that made it nearly impossible to keep his Lycan from taking over completely.They arrived at the guest quarters, and Kane shot a pointed look at the pack servants hovering nearby. “Prepare a room. I want it spotless and warm, and I want it now.”One servant nodded quickly, darting ahead to open the door to one of the best guest rooms in the house. Kane entered, lowering Lyra carefully onto the bed, brushing a tangled strand of hair away from her face. She looked so small, so fragile, lying there against the crisp sheets. His heart twisted, both in protectiveness and outrage.“Penelopa,” he called, signaling his own healer. She stepped forward, her expression calm ye
Aiden POV Aiden stood at the edge of the grand hall, watching from the shadows as the Lycan Prince strode through the pack house with an air of authority that had everyone’s attention. It had been less than a day since the Prince’s arrival, and already, everything had changed.But the change that bothered him the most? The way Kane had reacted to her.Lyra.Aiden clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he recalled the humiliating scene earlier. Kane, the almighty Lycan Prince, had found her broken and bleeding in the cells beneath the pack house. There had been a flicker of shock, then fury in the Prince’s eyes when he realized what had been done to her.Why did it bother him so much? Why did Lyra matter to a Prince?Aiden shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but the image of her haunted him. He’d thought he was done with her. He’d rejected her for a reason - she was beneath him, an Omega, a nobody. But seeing her fragile form, seeing her clinging to life wit
Aiden's POVAiden paced furiously in his quarters, his fists clenched, his thoughts tangled. Every fiber of his being, every nerve, screamed for him to act, to reclaim what had been taken from him. His wolf stirred restlessly inside him, snarling with frustration. She’s ours. How could you let him touch her?The sharp reminder made Aiden’s heart pound with anger. He’d cast Lyra aside, yes, but that was before he realized the depth of their connection. His rejection had been a mistake, and now Kane, the Lycan Prince, thought he had the right to claim her? The very thought twisted Aiden's gut with jealousy and rage.He could feel his wolf pushing against his control, demanding action, demanding blood.You’ll have to fight him, his wolf whispered darkly. You’ll have to take her back.Aiden gritted his teeth, imagining Kane’s smug face, the way he looked at Lyra as if she were something to be pitied. He wouldn't stand by and let Kane steal her away. Not without a fight.He couldn’t ignore
Kane's POVKane stood frozen for a moment, his golden eyes scanning Lyra’s still form, every inch of her battered body a testament to the brutality she'd suffered at the hands of his pack's Alpha and his daughter. She looked fragile - broken. He could feel her fading heartbeat, her once-vibrant energy nearly extinguished.A surge of fury rose in him, sharper than anything he had ever felt before. How dare they - his own people - treat her like this? This fragile, beautiful, broken girl was his second-chance mate. And she wasn’t going to die. Not like this. Not because of their cruelty.The healer, Evelyn, had already begun to administer IV fluids, but even as she worked, it was clear Lyra wasn’t responding as she should. Her skin was cold to the touch, and her breaths shallow, almost non-existent.Kane's Lycan side stirred restlessly, and a dark, primal force inside him rose in response to her suffering. He couldn’t let her die.Turning to Evelyn, he spoke sharply, his voice cold and
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 archiv
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 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 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 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 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 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
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
The moment the golden light faded, Kane knew something was wrong.The chamber stood still, thick with the lingering echoes of power that had just torn through reality itself. The last remnants of the Demon God’s existence had been obliterated, its monstrous form reduced to nothing but dust and shadow. The battle was over.And yet something was off.. Lyra collapsed.Kane lunged forward, catching her just before she hit the cracked stone floor.Her body was limp in his arms, her hair falling in a tangled mess over her face. He could feel the rapid, shallow rise and fall of her chest, but it was too weak - as if something inside her was slipping further and further away.His heart slammed against his ribs, a soundless snarl tearing through him as he shook her gently."Lyra," he called, his voice steady, but beneath it, there was a razor-sharp edge of fear. "Wake up."Silence.He tried again, gripping her tighter."Lyra!"Nothing.She wasn’t responding.Not through their bond.Not even