The festival had quieted to a murmur as the kingdom’s citizens dispersed, leaving the royal family and their closest advisors to retreat to the castle’s grand war room. Despite the exhaustion that tugged at Lyra’s body, her mind raced with the images of her father and the ominous army she had seen during her vision. Kane’s steady hand rested on her lower back as they entered the chamber, his presence as comforting as ever.The war room was an imposing space, its walls lined with ancient tapestries depicting victories of the past. A massive oak table dominated the room, surrounded by high-backed chairs, each one reserved for key members of the royal council. Maps and documents were spread across the surface, detailing territories, trade routes, and military outposts.The King was already seated at the head of the table, his expression a mixture of concern and resolve. Queen Seraphina sat beside him, her sharp eyes studying Lyra intently. Several councilors, including the ever-critical
The castle was alive with preparation. Servants moved with determined efficiency, guards patrolled with heightened vigilance, and the air buzzed with a mix of anticipation and tension. As dawn broke, casting a soft golden glow over the castle grounds, Lyra and Kane stood side by side on the balcony of their chambers, surveying the activity below.Lyra clutched the stone in her hand, its warmth a steady reminder of the power she carried. Her thoughts, however, were elsewhere - on her father, Alpha Killian, and the fortress where he was held.“We’ll find him,” Kane said softly, his voice cutting through her thoughts.She turned to look at him, taking in the resolute set of his jaw and the unwavering determination in his eyes. “I know,” she replied, though the weight of uncertainty still pressed on her chest. “But the Shadow Order… they’re not just any enemy. They’re organized, powerful and...”“And they’re no match for us,” Kane interrupted, his tone firm. “We’ve faced threats before, L
The first rays of dawn stretched across the horizon as Lyra and Kane prepared to leave the castle. The courtyard was a hive of activity, with warriors mounting horses, scouts finalizing their gear, and servants ensuring provisions were secured. The cool morning air carried a sense of anticipation, tinged with the weight of the mission ahead.Lyra adjusted the strap of her pack, her fingers brushing against the stone nestled securely against her chest. Its faint warmth was a constant presence, a reminder of the power and responsibility she carried.Kane approached her, his tall frame casting a protective shadow as he handed her a small dagger. “For backup,” he said, his golden eyes meeting hers.Lyra took the weapon, sliding it into the sheath at her side. “I already have the stone. Do you think I’ll need this?”Kane smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a way that made her heart skip. “The stone’s powerful, but I’d rather you have something more... immediate.”“Fair enough,” Lyr
The fortress loomed above them like a dark sentinel, its jagged towers piercing the mist-shrouded sky. The closer they came, the more Lyra felt the stone's energy vibrating against her chest, its warmth growing intense as if urging her forward.Their group paused at the base of the cliffs, where a narrow, winding path led upward to the fortress gates. Kane held up a hand, signaling silence. His golden eyes scanned the surroundings, his sharp instincts honed for danger.“This place reeks of death,” he muttered, his voice low but carrying an edge of tension.Valeria stepped forward, her gaze fixed on the fortress. “It’s not just death,” she said, her tone grave. “The magic here is old, corrupted. Be ready for anything.”Lyra couldn’t help but shiver, though she stood firm. She tightened her grip on her dagger, her wolf stirring restlessly within her. Thalia’s voice echoed in her mind, low and cautious.Be careful, Lyra. We’re walking into a trap.I know, Lyra replied silently. But we ha
The return to the castle was quiet, the weight of their discovery pressing heavily on everyone. Lyra stayed close to Kane, her mind replaying the vision she’d seen - the chains, the shadows, her father’s face etched with pain. She felt the stone against her chest, its power still humming faintly, a reminder of how much she didn’t yet understand.The group entered the castle gates as the last rays of sunlight bathed the towers in gold. Servants rushed to prepare for the coming night, their movements brisk and purposeful. Despite the bustle, a tense energy lingered, the echoes of what they’d found in the fortress following them home.Kane escorted Lyra to their chambers, his hand resting lightly on the small of her back. Once inside, she sank onto the edge of the bed, her head in her hands.“I saw him, Kane,” she said, her voice raw. “I saw my father. He’s alive, but he’s suffering.”Kane knelt in front of her, his golden eyes fierce yet tender. “We’ll find him, Lyra. That vision - it’
The alliance summit was set to take place in two days and the castle was already a hive of activity. Messengers from neighboring packs and allied kingdoms had begun arriving, their flags and banners adding bursts of color to the castle grounds. Warriors trained tirelessly in the courtyards, their rhythmic chants and the clash of blades filling the air with a sense of urgency.Lyra watched the scene unfold from the balcony of her chambers. Despite the flurry of activity below, her thoughts were elsewhere - on her father, on the Shadow Order and on the stone that now rested against her chest like a silent guardian.“You look lost in thought,” Kane said as he joined her, his presence grounding her.“I’m trying to prepare,” Lyra admitted. “But every time I think I have a handle on things, something new happens.”Kane placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch reassuring. “Preparation isn’t just about knowing every answer. It’s about being ready to adapt. You’ve already proven you can do that
Later that day, Lyra found herself in the library with Valeria, pouring over maps and ancient texts. The witch was calm and focused, her hands deftly flipping through the brittle pages of an old tome.“Do you think we’ll find anything here?” Lyra asked, her voice tinged with both hope and doubt.“Knowledge is never wasted,” Valeria replied. “The stone is an artifact of immense power, but it’s also deeply connected to you. Understanding its history might help you unlock its full potential.”Lyra nodded, running her fingers over the rough surface of a faded map. “It’s hard to believe something so small could hold so much power. Or that it could be tied to me in ways I don’t fully understand.”Valeria’s eyes softened. “Powerful artifacts often choose their bearers for reasons beyond our understanding. But I believe you were chosen for a purpose, Lyra. Trust in that.”As night fell, the castle buzzed with anticipation for the summit’s second day. Lyra and Kane dined with the King in his p
The halls of the castle bustled with urgency the following morning. Word of the Shadow Order’s threat and the mission to rescue Alpha Killian spread quickly among the court and the warriors stationed within the fortress. Lyra woke to the sound of drills in the courtyard below, the rhythmic clash of weapons echoing up to her chamber.She sat up, still feeling the lingering pull of the vision from the ritual. The weight of what she had seen - the stronghold, the malevolent presence - pressed on her. Beside her, Kane was already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed and lacing his boots.“Couldn’t sleep?” she asked softly, her voice still husky from sleep.He glanced over his shoulder, his expression as serious as she’d expected. “Too much to think about. We’ve never faced an enemy like this before. The Shadow Order doesn’t fight fair, and they’ll use every advantage against us.”Lyra swung her legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his hand. “We’ll face them together, Kane. We have
Nyxar POVThe wind whispered through the crumbling bones of the temple, stirring dust and leaves like forgotten prayers. Shadows clung to the corners of the broken sanctuary, quiet and still, as if holding their breath.Nyxar sat on the edge of the old altar, elbows resting on his knees, eyes cast toward the open ceiling where a single shaft of sunlight pierced through the cracked stone above. Lyra was nearby - silent, present. She didn’t fill the space with questions or noise. She simply was. Her stillness steadied him more than she likely realized.He drew a breath, deep and grounding. The scent of old stone, ash, and moss filled his lungs.This place had once been sacred. Once, his kind had come here to speak to the Moon. To pray. To transform. The divine had moved in these walls.Now it was dust and ruin.Like him.He tilted his head back, eyes slipping closed. The mark along his forearm - once the seal of his divinity - was dull now. No longer a flare of power. No longer a curse
Lyra didn’t speak.She stepped quietly to the side and settled onto a patch of moss, legs folded beneath her, spine straight as a sentinel. The moonlight slid in through the broken rafters above, painting her hair in silver. Her presence was steady - not pressing, not retreating. Just there. She could Nyxar stayed kneeling, fingers grazing the fractured stone where once an altar had stood tall and gleaming with divine light. His hand traced the worn runes, fingers slipping over grooves long eroded by wind and time.“This is where I fell,” he said after a while, voice low. “Not in battle. Not before a blade. Here. In the temple.”Lyra looked toward him, but said nothing. She didn’t need to.“I was given a choice.” His gaze fixed on the stones. “To let them die… or to fall. Become immortal. To give up the throne. My power. My life. My mortality. Everything.”His jaw tightened. “I didn’t hesitate. Not for one breath. I gave it all for them. For the ones who cried out in my name.”“And
Nyxar POV The corridor felt quieter than it had ever been. As if the walls themselves held their breath, watching the once-immortal god relearn the rhythm of mortality. Nyxar leaned slightly against Lyra as they moved - her arm steady beneath his, her touch warm and sure.He paused beside one of the archways, exhaling slow. The torchlight flickered over his face, casting golden highlights into the dark growth of stubble along his jaw.“I need to see it,” he murmured. “The old sanctuary. The ruins.”Lyra turned her face toward him, brows lifting. “Now?”Nyxar’s gaze was distant, tethered to memory and something deeper - pulling at him like the moon pulled at tides. But then hiis stomach growled. Loud and unmistakable.He blinked. She blinked. And then she laughed.Not the soft, guarded sound he’d grown used to, but a real laugh - light and almost surprised, like she hadn't expected it from herself.He glanced down at his own stomach and muttered, “Apparently, being mortal comes with i
Nyxar’s POVThere was no pain at first.No sound. No color. Only the hollow thrum of memory drifting through a void where even time dared not exist. Here, in this formless silence, everything Nyxar had been - god, warrior, monster - unraveled.His name echoed once, a ghost of thunder across a dark sea. Then it dissolved. Nyxar. Once a name that cracked mountains and bled stars. Now, meaningless.The world beyond had vanished. Only the impression of a face lingered, etched into the dying light of his thoughts. Lyra. Her warmth, her tears, the feel of her hand in his - real in a way nothing else had been in centuries. He’d given everything to protect her. To save her.He thought it had been the end. But something remained. A flicker. An ember buried beneath the ash.He reached for it - not with hands, but with the fragile echo of thought. There was no body here. No form. Just awareness stretched thin like dying flame. The divine part of him - once radiant and vengeful - was crumbling.
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