The Alpa Who Cast Me Away

The First Shift

Lyra Ashbourne hadn’t slept. Not really. She had tossed and turned on the small cot in the safehouse Darius had provided, her mind a storm of memories and fear. The city outside hummed with life, oblivious to the ancient danger awakening within her.

Her hands traced the faint silver-black veins pulsing beneath her skin. The light had faded since the night at the boundary stone, but it never fully went away. It was there, quiet and insistent, a reminder that she was not the ordinary girl she had believed herself to be.

Lyra shivered. “I’m not… a monster,” she whispered to herself, though even she wasn’t sure if she believed it.

Then it happened.

A flash of pain shot through her chest, sharper than anything she had felt before, like fire coiling around her heart. She cried out, clutching herself, and stumbled to her knees. The room seemed to warp around her. Her vision blurred, silver-black shadows crawling up the walls like living smoke.

Her wolf stirred violently. Shift. Now.

Lyra’s eyes widened in terror. Shift? She hadn’t shifted before—she didn’t even know how. She had believed herself wolf-less, worthless. But now, the power inside her roared, demanding release.

Instinct took over.

She sank to the floor, curling into a ball as the light beneath her skin flared bright enough to illuminate the small room. Pain and ecstasy warred within her, twisting her muscles and bones, reshaping her. Every nerve in her body screamed, but her mind was eerily calm.

And then, as suddenly as it began… silence.

Lyra opened her eyes. The room was still, quiet except for her ragged breaths. Her reflection in the cracked window startled her. Her eyes glowed faintly silver, pupils elongated. Her nails were sharper, longer, claw-like. Her senses were on fire—the smell of rain, the hum of electricity from the city grid, the distant rhythm of a heartbeat three blocks away.

She had shifted.

Lyra staggered back, pressing her hands to her face. This wasn’t a wolf. It was something else. Something older. Something powerful. Something forbidden.

A low growl rumbled through her chest. Her wolf—or whatever part of her that had been silent all her life—was awake now. It was curious, hungry, and impatient.

Darius cleared his throat. “You’re awake,” he said softly, but there was awe in his voice. “I didn’t think it would happen this soon.”

Lyra turned to him, fear and confusion mingling. “What… what am I?”

He stepped closer, eyes glinting. “You’re not just a wolf, Lyra. You’re something far more dangerous. Kael Nightfell… he knows this. And he’ll come for you.”

The words made her pulse quicken. Her wolf hissed inside her skull. He’s coming.

Lyra swallowed hard. Her fists clenched. “Then I’ll be ready.”

Darius nodded, impressed and cautious. “Good. But remember, this power… it doesn’t just change you. It changes the world around you. And people—Alpha Kings included—will want it. They’ll fight for it. And they’ll kill for it.”

Lyra’s heart pounded in her chest. Fear, exhilaration, and something darker—a thrill she couldn’t name—coursed through her. She was no longer just Lyra Ashbourne. She was something the world had never seen before.

Something Kael Nightfell could not ignore.

Her wolf growled low, excited, impatient.

The hunt is coming, it warned. And you will lead it.

Lyra clenched her teeth. Her hands pulsed with light again, faint but alive. “Let him come,” she whispered, voice trembling but resolute. “I’m ready.”