Lyra’s POV
I stood on the edge of the packhouse balcony, the early morning mist hanging heavy over the landscape below.
The forest, cloaked in fog, stretched endlessly under the dim silver light, almost blending into the gray sky.
Ordinarily, this view was a comfort, a quiet reminder of the strength that ran deep in these lands and the pack that called them home. But today, no beauty or silence could steady the storm inside me.
I placed a hand on my stomach. Still flat, still mine—or at least, it should have been. But now, in some strange, undeniable way, it wasn’t just me anymore.
Something was growing here, a life, fragile and innocent, one that hadn’t chosen to be thrust into a world filled with danger.
A part of me was already wondering if I’d failed them, if I could ever rea
