Chapter 7: Taken Without Chains
734 Words
The forest did not sleep.
It watched.
Lyra moved carefully through the shadows, every sense stretched tight. The encounter with the royal hunters had changed something. The forest no longer felt like refuge—it felt like a battlefield waiting to happen.
Eira was gone.
The realization sat heavy in Lyra’s chest.
She had waited. Listened. Called softly into the night.
No answer.
“I should have gone back,” Lyra whispered, guilt twisting painfully inside her.
Her wolf stirred, calm but firm.
Survive first.
Lyra swallowed and kept moving.
She did not sense them until it was too late.
The air shifted—wrong.
The ground beneath her feet glowed suddenly with crimson runes.
“No—!”
The trap activated.
Power surged upward like burning chains, slamming into her body and pinning her mid-step. Lyra cried out as the runes tightened, draining her strength—not stealing it, but locking it away.
She crashed to her knees.
Not royal hunters.
These sigils were older. Darker.
“Careful,” a smooth voice said from the trees. “If you fight it, the spell will tear you apart.”
Figures emerged slowly—wolves dressed in black and silver, their eyes sharp with intelligence rather than cruelty.
At their center stood a man with ash-blond hair and pale gray eyes that studied Lyra like a puzzle.
“A Moon-blooded omega,” he murmured. “Alive. Awakened.”
Lyra glared at him, forcing herself upright despite the pain. “Who are you?”
He smiled faintly. “Someone the Alpha King does not control.”
Her heart sank.
“Release me,” she demanded.
He crouched in front of her, unafraid. “I won’t hurt you, Lyra Moonveil. But I can’t let you stay free either.”
“Then you’re no better than him,” she snapped.
Something flickered in his eyes—regret, perhaps.
“I’m worse,” he admitted softly. “Because I know exactly what you are.”
He stood and gestured.
The runes loosened just enough for Lyra to stand—weak, furious, unbroken.
“You’re coming with us,” he said. “Voluntarily… or unconscious.”
Lyra lifted her chin. “I won’t be dragged.”
A pause.
Then he inclined his head. “Good. I respect that.”
They traveled fast.
Too fast.
The forest thinned, the air growing colder as mountains rose ahead—jagged and unforgiving. Lyra walked between them without chains, but the spell followed her like a shadow, muting her power.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked finally.
“To neutral ground,” the man replied. “A place even Alpha Kings tread carefully.”
She studied his profile. “You serve a rival pack.”
“I serve balance,” he corrected. “Name’s Rowan Ashfell.”
Lyra stored the name away.
Rowan glanced at her. “Kael Blackthorn is searching for you.”
Her jaw tightened. “I know.”
“He regrets rejecting you.”
The words struck harder than she expected.
“That changes nothing,” Lyra said coldly.
Rowan watched her quietly. “You don’t hate him.”
Lyra stopped walking.
“I survived him,” she said softly. “That’s enough.”
Rowan nodded once. “For now.”
Far away, Kael Blackthorn stood before a shattered map of the realm.
“She vanished,” a scout reported. “No trace. No scent.”
Kael’s temper snapped.
His power surged violently, shadows cracking the stone floor beneath his feet.
“Someone took her,” Kael growled. “Someone skilled.”
The Alpha Council exchanged uneasy looks.
“Ashfell territory borders that forest,” one elder said slowly.
Kael froze.
Rowan Ashfell.
A rival Alpha who bowed to no crown.
Kael turned sharply. “Prepare the guard.”
“Your Majesty—if you cross into neutral lands—”
“I will,” Kael cut in, eyes blazing. “Because she is no one’s prisoner.”
His wolf roared inside him.
Mine, it snarled.
Kael clenched his fists.
“No,” he whispered fiercely. “Not mine.”
Not anymore.
As dawn broke over the mountains, Lyra stared at the unfamiliar land ahead.
She was not free.
But she was not kneeling.
And somewhere behind her, two kings were beginning to move—
One who had rejected her.
And one who intended to use her.
- Writer
