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
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
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
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’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
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 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
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 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
Lyra POV The air reeked of blood and burning wards. From the highest spire, Lyra watched shadow creatures pour through the eastern breach - just as planned. Their forms rippled with unnatural grace, bones wrong beneath stretching skin, eyes like coals. The trap was set. Glyphs flared to life in a massive ring around the breach, turning the battlefield into a burning cage. And still they came. The creatures weren’t slowed by fire. They thrived in it. “Fall back to second line!” Elara shouted, sword dripping with black ichor. “Protect the witches! Get the civilians below-” A bolt of shadow tore past her and struck the ground at Lyra’s feet. The stone cracked. The heat of it sizzled against her skin even as she raised a shield instinctively. She spun. And there he was. Kane. No mask. No armor. Just him - worn leathers and that familiar, twisted expression of grief and rage. His eyes, however, were not his own. They blazed with the Harbinger’s mark - red, ringed in black. Hi
Harbinger POVThe darkness welcomed him like an old friend.It moved when he moved. Breathed when he breathed. Twined around his shoulders like a living mantle as he drifted through the ruins of the old forest temple, the shattered remnants of gods long forgotten crushed beneath his feet.Kane sat in the center of the stone circle, head bowed, sweat beading at his brow despite the cold. He hadn’t moved in hours.Still resisting.The Harbinger tilted his head, amused. He circled the boy slowly, boots making no sound on the broken marble. Kane’s energy flickered - unstable. Like a flame exposed to too much air.“You're unraveling,” the Harbinger said softly. His voice was silk over razors, ancient and echoing. “And still, you cling to her.”Kane’s jaw tightened. “I’m not yours.”The Harbinger crouched behind him, a whisper at his ear. “No. Not yet. But you will be.”A flick of power, and the circle of runes flared beneath them, casting everything in a red glow. Kane flinched but didn’t