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LyraFollowing the group to the table, Lyra watched Veyron warily. Rivenn had been testing and teasing him but she had seen the moment where he almost didn’t stop. He had wanted to see blood and the echoes of anger hadn’t fully faded.Rivenn leaned back in his chair, lazily scanning the room as he took a deep swig of ale—then nearly choked on it. He set his tankard down with a thunk, eyes locking onto Lyra and Daphne.“Well, well,” he drawled, a slow grin spreading across his face. “No one told me we’d have company.”At that, the rest of the group turned, as if finally registering the two women who had ridden in with Veyron.Brann’s grin widened. “And no one told me the company would be this pretty.”Veyron’s fingers curled around the handle of his drink, his knuckles tightening as Brann leaned forward, all easy charm and reckless grins. A low growl hummed in the back of Veyron’s throat, too soft for anyone but Lyra to catch.She tried to ignore him.Eryssa groaned. “Gods save us, her
Lyra“We’re after an artifact,” Veyron explained, setting his tankard down with a dull thud. “The Eglantine.”Silence fell over the table.Brann exhaled. “Shit.”Rivenn let out a low whistle. “She really has you chasing that?”Eryssa threw back a swallow of her drink before asking, “I knew it had to be bad, but… that bad?”“Alright,” Daphne glanced between them. ”someone want to explain? What’s the Eglantine?”Delvin drummed his fingers on the table. “Ancient. Dangerous. Powerful. One of a kind.”Brann chuckled, but it lacked his usual warmth. “Sounds like my type.”Eryssa rolled her eyes. “It’s not something to joke about, Brann.”“So we’re retrieving it…” Lyra frowned. “for what purpose?”Veyron’s jaw flexed before he answered. “The Mistress wants it. She says it’ll protect the pack from what’s coming.”That sent a ripple of unease through the group.Eryssa spoke, “It’s really happening, then.”Aeron merely nodded.Lyra’s eyes narrowed. “And what exactly is ‘it’?”No one answered i
Veyron The tavern buzzed with life, its warmth at odds with the cold void inside him. His enforcers reveled in their drinks, their camaraderie unshaken despite the serious mission ahead. They nudged him, coaxed him, trying to pull him into their merriment. “Come on, Veyron,” Brann called, already three drinks deep. “I haven’t seen you smile in years. Are your teeth still intact, or did you grind them all to dust?” Veyron exhaled through his nose, arms folded across his chest. “I’ll smile when I see something worth smiling about.” Delvin smirked. “Gods help us all when that day comes.” Eryssa shook her head. “Lost cause,” she muttered, clinking her tankard against Rivenn’s. “Might as well try getting Aeron drunk.” Veyron barely heard them. His attention was elsewhere. On her. Lyra sat among them, relaxed in a way she never was around him. Her lips curved in amusement as she sipped her drink, a strand of raven hair slipping over her shoulder. The firelight softened her edges… w
Lyra“He’s got a habit of picking up strays,” Brann remarked, tipping back his ale and nodding toward Veyron. “Over half the bastards here wouldn’t have a place if he didn’t take ‘em in.”Eryssa smirked. “Or a purpose. We’re all misfits in one way or another, but Veyron—he finds a use for the discarded.”Lyra listened quietly, her fingers tracing the rim of her tankard. She had seen Veyron’s leadership firsthand—the way these warriors, dangerous and unruly as they seemed, deferred to him without a command ever needing to be spoken. “And yet, he doesn’t unwillingly bind anyone to him as their Alpha.” Rivenn admired. “Veyron doesn’t demand it. He never has.”Most packs didn’t work that way. The pack bond was everything. The unshakable link that demanded loyalty, submission, belonging. It kept betrayal and fights out. Veyron did that all through sheer might.She glanced at him, half-hidden in the shadows now, nursing his drink as he listened but didn’t engage. His eyes distant.“It’s be
VeyronThe room was suffocating. The candle on the nightstand burned out, leaving the scent of melted wax and a faint wisp of smoke. Veyron sat on the edge of the bed, his hands clenched into fists so tight his nails left crescent shaped lacerations on his palms. Lyra’s laugh still bounced around his head. Rivenn had charmed her, teasing, touching, even stealing glances. And Veyron watched, as the people he trusted most toyed with her attention. And she had welcomed it.Eryx growled in his mind, a low, restless rumble. They covet what is ours.Ours.Veyron’s breath shuddered out, the tension in his shoulders growing until they ached. He wanted her. More than he wanted air. Why did he yearn for her so? Why did her refusal to accept him burn so hot and deep? He didn’t need some girl. Never had. And yet, he needed her.The Mistress’s voice was a whisper in his mind, silk over steel, winding through the cracks in his resolve.Break her…He squeezed his eyes shut, but it was useless. Her
LyraThe mistress's touch seared into Lyra and she was powerless to stop her. “Please, don’t. I can’t take anymore, Vespera…”Pleasure and pain comingled until they were indistinguishable, reducing her will to a gasping, quivering rapacity.Even as the dream faded, its effects did not. The need coiled tight. Her fingers twitched, drawn down to where the mistress had taught her would quench the terrible hunger. She squeezed her eyes shut, lips parting as her fingertips brushed over her clit.Slick sweat coated her body as hands she couldn’t see ghosted over her skin, breath she couldn’t feel whispering in her ear. It wasn’t real. And yet…The mistress was still here. A phantom presence. No… Someone was in the room with her. Ice flooded through the fire in her veins. Humiliation being caught like this flooded her senses, awakening every nerve, driving her closer to the edge.Her eyes snapped open.Veyron loomed over her, his massive frame shrouded in shadows, the hunger radiating fro
VeyronVeyron climbed on top of Lyra, his world narrowing to her softness beneath him, her warmth branding him deeper than any fire. She was everything. The only thing. Starved compulsion consumed the edges of his feverish conscious. The wicked delirium of her stormed beneath his skin, pooling deep within him, demanding more—demanding her.He pinned her hands above her head, savoring the way she shivered beneath his touch, the way her breath caught. Every nerve awakened, attuned to the press of her body, the rapid beat of her pulse. Pressure built until his limbs trembled with the effort of holding on, his body no longer his own, ruled by the need to claim, to take, to make her his. Instinctively, he rocked against her, chasing her heat with a desperate, mindless rhythm that grew wilder until he was lost in her.She was his abyss, his surrender, his undoing.And then—he was gone.The unleashing became a vast ocean he could not escape, pulling him deeper. No sight. No sound. Only her. O
LyraThe room was too quiet without Veyron.Lyra lay still, staring at the empty space where Veyron had been just moments ago. His absence had stolen the heat.She gripped the sheets, trying to steady herself, but nothing could erase those black, eternal eyes. The voice had wrapped around her like chains forged in shadow. A shudder wracked through her at the memory of how powerfully her body had responded. She swallowed hard against her closing throat.The moment he’d realized what he was doing, he’d torn himself away. She should have called to him, told him to stay. They could talk about it. If should she have felt relieved, she didn’t. Because now, she knew the truth.Veyron was breaking. His iron grip on himself was under the darkness inside him. And if it disintegrated completely…Lyra pulled the blankets tighter around her, curling up into a ball as though she could shut out the ghost of his touch. But his touch continued to feather her skin.She had feared his control before. N
LyraThe ride stretched on for the better part of the day, the steady rhythm of hooves against the earth a distant hum beneath their conversation. The forest behind them thinned into dry scrub, the scent of pine giving way to dust and sunbaked stone. Grass grew sparse. The air thickened with heat. In this desert, the land shed its vibrant green skin, surrendering to shades of ochre and gold.But as they crossed the invisible threshold marking the edge of Veyron’s domain, Lyra felt… lighter. The grip of his territorial magic released her like a breath she didn’t know she was holding.Yet Vespera’s magic still itched beneath her skin like a fever, her body betraying her with a thrum of desire any time her mind strayed too close to him, or she found herself the center of attention. Every bump in the road made her thighs clench tighter, her face hotter, her patience thinner. Yet, she tried to focus on Daphne’s teachings.“The more influential a werewolf is, the more land they can hold,”
LyraWarmth. That was the first thing Lyra noticed as she drifted toward wakefulness, a pleasant heat cocooning her against the chill of the morning air. Then came the slow, steady rise and fall of breath—not hers. The rhythmic motion rocked her slightly, comforting in a way that sent her sinking deeper into the warmth before realization struck her like a bolt of lightning.Her eyes snapped open, and she stiffened.Oh gods.She was curled against Rivenn, his arm draped lazily over her waist, their legs tangled as if they’d spent the entire night like this. Her cheek on his chest, his steady heartbeat thrummed beneath her skin.What happened last night?Flashes of hazy memories surfaced—the warmth of the fire, the way the liquor had made her dizzy and giggly, the laughter that had bubbled up so freely. She remembered the taste of Brann’s awful liquor, the way they had cheered her on. But had something happened with Rivenn?Her gaze darted around the campsite, taking in the disarray.Da
VeyronVeyron stalked through the woods, his steps heavy, controlled, yet aimless. He didn’t know where he was going—only that he needed to move. To breathe. To get away from the sight of Rivenn’s hands on her, the sound of her laughter mixing with Brann’s deep, rumbling voice.His jaw ached from clenching it so hard. She’s laughing with them. The gate murmured. At us.His fists clenched, nails biting into his palms. A rustle behind him had him slowing, scenting who it was before she spoke.“You good, Veyron?” Eryssa’s voice was calm, but her eyes took him in with quiet scrutiny.He exhaled through his nose. “Just taking a damn piss.”She quirked a brow but didn’t push. “Right.”Another set of footsteps approached, and Veyron tensed as Delvin stepped into view.They know why you’re here. Eryx warned, low and wary. They know you’re upset over the girl. They’ve come to check on you—like a damn pup.Veyron sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. Delvin slung an arm around his shoulder. “Y
LyraLyra turned to Brann, flashing him a playful smile. “So, Brann, tell me—are all warriors as fearless as you, or are you just special?”Brann, caught mid-drink, nearly choked on his ale. “I—I suppose I’m just special?”Rivenn barked out a laugh. Across the fire, Veyron finally looked up.His eyes flashed feral, his muscles coiling with restraint. She smiled, letting her fingers graze Brann’s arm, a bolt of heat shot through her at the contact. If Veyron wanted distance, she would give it to him. But she wasn’t about to disappear into the shadows.Veyron abruptly stood. His shoulders rigid as he stalked away from the fire, disappearing into the darkness beyond its glow. Silence fell over the group.Brann hesitated before speaking, quieter than usual. “I’m worried about him.”Delvin nodded solemnly. “Yeah.” Rivenn exhaled, rubbing his jaw. “He’s much darker than we’re used to. More moody. More volatile.” Genuine concern replaced his teasing lilt.“We need to keep an eye on him.” E
Lyra The fire crackled, sending embers swirling into the night as laughter rolled through the camp. Brann was mid-story, tankard in hand, weaving an exaggerated tale with the kind of energy only he could muster.“And then…” Brann’s voice boomed over the crackling fire, “Veyron, not even flinching, just leaps right at the beast, his cloak billowing behind him like the wings of some dark omen! He—get this—grabs its horns and yanks it to the ground like it’s nothing! He looked like some ancient god of war, practically glowing in the moonlight!”Delvin gave a dry smile, his arms crossed, leaning slightly away from Lyra as she sat dwarfed between him and Rivenn, who casually stroked a lock of Daphne’s hair with one hand and subtly brushed the back of Lyra’s.. “He looked more like a man trying not to die, if you ask me.”Brann shot Delvin a glance, but didn't let it derail him. “No, no. His shirt shimmered under the light of the fire. It was magnificent, really.”Rivenn leaned in closer t
VeyronThe warmth of the fire heated Veyron’s back, the crackling flames filling the tense silence. “What did you say to her?” Delvin asked. “To make her run off like that?”Veyron clenched his jaw. “I said nothing, Delvin,” he snapped. He didn’t want to discuss it.Delvin hesitated, studying him. “She really needs to be careful in these woods,” he said quietly. “There are wild creatures out here. It’s the border of your territory, not sure what might wander over. Just… stay alert. We’ll find her.”If he came looking for her, she would run. A vision of Lyra fleeing from him flashed before his eyes. Her face full of fear as she ran, with the wolf in him chasing, taking over. The excitement that tore through him at the thought twisted in his stomach, nauseating him.“Do you need me to help?” he asked, the words heavy.Delvin shook his head, gaze softening. “Nah, we’ve got it. You just stay here. We’ll bring her back.”With that, Delvin turned and joined the others in the search for the
LyraLyra stumbled through the woods, her chest constricting. Her breath came in shaky gasps, and she barely noticed the way the brambles tugged at her cloak until her foot caught on an unseen root. With a startled gasp, she tumbled forward, hitting the damp earth hard.For a moment, she stayed there, pressing her palms against the cool ground. Her vision blurred with unshed tears, and she let out a quiet, bitter laugh. Pathetic.A rustling sound drew her attention. Lifting her head, she blinked through the dark.A deer stood just beyond the trees, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the canopy. Its coat was white as freshly fallen snow, and its antlers stretched high and twisting, larger than any deer she had ever seen. A shiver ran down her spine.Lyra swallowed, wiping at her eyes as she sat back on her heels. “Why is Veyron like this?” she asked the deer. “Why push me away like I’m nothing, when I know he feels it too?”The deer watched her with unsettling still
Veyron Veyron slid the dagger’s edge methodically against the whetstone with a slow, deliberate scrape. The sound sliced through the quiet night. His mind had no business straying. But still, it did.The motion of the blade against stone felt too familiar—like the feel of her body beneath him, his senses surging from their closeness. He tried to focus, but his thoughts kept circling back to the way she trembled under his touch. Everything about her made it impossible to hold back.Her approach tugged at his awareness before her scent even reached him. Eryx’s growl vibrated beneath his ribs, impatient with his hiding.She is coming to you. Let her finish the bond. She is ours.The ancient voice twisted through his mind, cold and insistent, filling the deepest corners of his thoughts. No. Let her ache. Let her yearn. She is already bound to you, whether she admits it or not. Veyron knew who spoke to him. He had used the crescent gate just before this journey. Though it had never comm
LyraThe night air carried the scent of burning wood and crisp earth as the group settled around the campfire. Shadows danced through trees, stretching toward the sky. Lyra sat near the flames, absently poking at the embers with a stick, her thoughts a tangled mess.Her skin prickled, flushed from more than just the fire’s heat. Magnetic fluid cloyed the air—or perhaps it was just her. Every shift of her cloak across her shoulders made her wince inwardly, growing more sensitive to even the smallest sensations the longer she went without satisfying Vespera’s magic, which smoldered under her skin.Veyron had been avoiding her all day, stealing glances at her as if ashamed to even look at her. He had dragged her into this journey, forced her along. The heat of last night replayed in her mind—the touch of his hands, the weight of his body, the bite that had sent something deep and ancient crackling through her. Her thighs still remembered the press of his hips. Her neck still tingled whe