Lyra’s POV
The Great Hall of the Crimson Moon had been completely transformed from a place of opulent celebration into a suffocating, breathless tomb, where the only sound in the cavernous expanse was the rhythmic, ominous tapping of the Pack Seer’s wooden staff against the polished marble floor.
As the ancient mystic glided forward from the shadows, a cold, paralyzing dread flooded my veins, turning the blood in my body to absolute ice. My heart hammered a frantic, heavy rhythm against my ribs while I stood perfectly still at the base of the dais, fully aware that I had gambled my life, my vengeance, and my entire future on a blind bluff. Now, the executioner had arrived in heavy black robes.
I still didn’t know whose child grew in my womb. If the Seer’s magic pierced through the physi
