The crescent pact

Chapter 4: The stranger in the storm

Lyria’s POV)

By morning, Crescent Hall had swallowed the night’s whispers like a secret it didn’t dare repeat. The servants moved quietly, avoiding my eyes, pretending the scent of blood and pine wasn’t still clinging to the air.

Father didn’t notice. Or maybe he pretended not to. To him, last night was just another storm. To me, it was a warning.

The Council met at dawn — the same circle of Alphas who believed they ruled by divine right. I sat beside my father, the official heir, silent as they spoke of alliances and border patrols. But my thoughts were trapped in the shadows of that voice.

You were never meant to live under their moon.

His words played in my head like a forbidden song. What did he mean? Who were they?

“Lyria,” Alpha Darion’s gravelly tone snapped me back. “Your initiation into the Pact takes place at the next blood moon. You will stand as Crescent’s daughter — and as Alpha Kael’s bride.”

Every breath froze in my chest. Kael. The ruthless heir of the Ironfang Pack. My betrothed since childhood. His name alone was enough to still a room.

I forced a nod, my heart thudding. “Yes, my lord.”

But Kael wasn’t there. He never attended these councils — he ruled his silence like a crown. Still, his absence made my pulse unsteady.

When the meeting ended, I slipped outside. The forest behind Crescent Hall was damp, silver mist coiling between the trees. And there — leaning against an ancient oak — he stood.

The stranger.

Hood down. Eyes gold. That same stormy calm.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I whispered, though my feet moved closer.

He smiled faintly. “Neither should you.”

My throat tightened. “You’re trespassing on royal land. I could have you executed.”

“Then why haven’t you?”

Because I couldn’t. Because something in his scent felt… familiar. Ancient.

He stepped closer until the air between us trembled. “They didn’t tell you, did they? What you really are?”

I stared, dagger trembling in my grip. “Say it.”

But before he could speak, a howl split the air — close, urgent, angry. The royal guards.

He met my gaze one last time. “Find the truth before they find me.”

Then he was gone again — into the mist, into the legend. And as the guards surrounded me, I realized the truth he spoke of might not be buried in the forest… but in my blood.