Beneath the Cursed Moon

Shadows of Uncertainty

Hours passed, and as the sun began to sink below the horizon, Kestrel waited in the guest chambers, his mind heavy with thoughts of the upcoming meeting with Lyra. His instincts told him something was wrong—Bran’s behavior had been off, his excuses clumsy and rushed. But Kestrel played along for now. He needed to see Lyra, to understand what was happening in Bran’s pack.

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Nerys stepped inside with a practiced smile. "Everything is being prepared, Alpha Kestrel. Lyra will be ready for your meeting shortly," she said smoothly, though her eyes betrayed a hint of tension. "In the meantime, would you care to join me and the pack for dinner or a drink?"

Kestrel’s wolf instincts flared. He recognized the delay tactic instantly, but nodded, rising from his chair. "Of course," he replied, his voice calm, though his mind was already whirring with suspicion.

~*~

Back in her quarters, Lyra slowly opened her eyes, her vision hazy. The room swam around her as she tried to focus, the fog in her mind slowly lifting. Her body ached, her muscles weak and trembling as she struggled to sit up. The bruises were fading, but a dull throb of pain radiated through her body.

Rowan stood beside her, his expression unreadable as he watched her stir. "You’re awake," he said quietly, handing her a glass of water. "Drink. You’ll need your strength for tonight."

Lyra’s hands shook as she took the glass, sipping slowly, her voice barely a whisper. "What… what happened?"

"You’re meeting with Alpha Kestrel," Rowan said, his tone neutral. "He’s taking you with him to the SilverCrest pack, but he has requested a meeting with you before then so you need to get ready. Do you understand?"

Lyra blinked, the fog in her mind still thick, but she nodded weakly. She didn’t have the strength to ask more. All she knew was that felt like something was about to change—drastically.

Lyra sat on the edge of the bed, still clutching the glass of water as if it were the only solid thing keeping her from slipping back into unconsciousness. Her head throbbed, and her vision swam in and out of focus, but Rowan’s words sank in slowly. Alpha Kestrel. He was coming for her—tonight. She tried to gather her thoughts, but everything was muddled. The last thing she remembered clearly was savoring her ration of water after being locked in the basement again and now her whole body felt hollow.

Rowan was still standing nearby, watching her closely, as though he wasn’t sure she’d make it through the next few minutes, let alone the meeting with Kestrel. His sharp gaze flicked to the door, the tension in his face betraying his concern despite his calm exterior. Lyra felt a faint tremor of fear ripple through her. Why would Kestrel want her?

"Beta Rowan," she croaked, her voice hoarse and fragile, "what does he want with me?"

Rowan sighed, pulling up a chair next to her bed. "You’re leaving with him in two days," he said bluntly. "Alpha agreed to it as part of the alliance. But before that happens, Alpha Kestrel’s expecting you to be... presentable tonight. You’ll need to speak to him, show him you’re capable. There can’t be any slip-ups, that is a direct order from Alpha."

Lyra’s brow furrowed as she processed the information. "Why… why me? I don’t understand."

Rowan hesitated, glancing toward the door as if he feared being overheard. His voice softened when he spoke again. "Alpha Kestrel asked for you specifically. Alpha even offered others, but Alpha Kestrel refused.”

Lyra’s heart fluttered with a mix of confusion and fear. *Why would Alpha Kestrel want me?* She had been the BlackFang servant for so long. The idea that anyone—especially someone as powerful as Alpha Kestrel of the SilverCrest pack—would have any interest in her beyond what Bran had done was baffling.

"Does Alpha know why?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rowan shook his head slightly. "No. He’s as in the dark as you are. But it doesn’t matter right now. What matters is you making yourself presentable. You’re in no condition to push back anyways, and Alpha’s not about to let you go without keeping some control."

Lyra set the glass down on the nightstand with trembling hands. "What if I choose not to go?" She whispered, feeling the weakness in her body as a deep-rooted fear.

"You can’t," Rowan replied firmly. "Alpha Kestrel requested this as part of his agreement to the treaty and Alpha will not let this alliance fail."

Lyra nodded weakly, though she felt like she was drowning in a sea of uncertainty. *Of course I don’t have a choice.* She thought to herself. There was no escaping this, no delaying it. All she could do was survive and hope whatever came next wasn’t worse than what she’d already endured.