Chapter 5: Scars That Never Healed
766 Words
The moon hung high above the sleeping pack.
For the first time in her life…
Lyra Nightbane heard another voice inside her mind.
"I am here."
Lyra froze.
Her silver eyes widened.
"My wolf…?"
For years, she had believed she was cursed.
While others shifted before they turned eighteen, Lyra had remained weak.
Wolf-less.
Broken.
Or so everyone thought.
Tears filled her eyes.
"You're real?"
A soft chuckle echoed inside her mind.
"Of course I am."
The voice was gentle.
Elegant.
And strangely ancient.
"I have always been here."
"Then why?" Lyra whispered. "Why didn't you come before?"
Silence followed.
Then the wolf answered softly.
"Because it wasn't time."
"What do you mean?"
"You weren't ready."
Before Lyra could ask another question, a sharp pain exploded through her body.
She cried out as silver energy surrounded her.
Her heartbeat accelerated.
Her bones ached.
And then—
The pain vanished.
As though nothing had happened.
Lyra collapsed onto her knees.
"What was that?"
But her wolf had gone silent.
---
The next morning, nothing had changed.
Or so Lyra thought.
As she carried buckets of water toward the kitchen, Beta Marcus's son, Adrian, deliberately stepped into her path.
The bucket slipped.
Water spilled all over him.
The young warrior glared.
"You stupid omega!"
Without warning, he raised his hand.
But before his palm could touch her—
Lyra's body moved.
Faster than ever before.
She caught his wrist.
Everyone froze.
Including Lyra.
Adrian's eyes widened.
"H-how…?"
She quickly released him.
"I…"
Fear flashed across her face.
Had she done that?
Impossible.
She was weak.
She had always been weak.
Adrian snatched his hand away.
"Witch!" he shouted.
The others stared suspiciously.
Lyra lowered her head and hurried away.
But inside—
Her wolf stirred.
"Interesting."
---
That night, Lyra sat beneath her favorite tree.
The pendant of Nightbane rested in her hand.
"Talk to me."
Nothing.
She sighed.
"You said I wasn't ready. Ready for what?"
Still nothing.
"At least tell me your name."
For several moments, only silence answered.
Then—
"Nyx."
Lyra smiled softly.
"Nyx."
The wolf's voice was calm.
"A beautiful name, is it not?"
"It suits you."
Nyx laughed.
"And you suit me, little one."
Lyra frowned.
"Little one?"
"Compared to me… yes."
Something about the way Nyx spoke felt strange.
Wise.
Ancient.
Almost regal.
Not like the wolves she had heard others describe.
"What are you?" Lyra asked.
Silence.
Then—
"I am your wolf."
"But—"
"That is all you need to know."
And once again—
Nyx disappeared.
---
Days passed.
Strange things began happening.
Lyra healed faster.
Her senses sharpened.
She could hear conversations from across the pack house.
She could smell emotions.
Fear.
Anger.
Jealousy.
And one night—
She accidentally crushed a wooden cup in her hand.
Her strength had increased.
But she kept it hidden.
She trusted no one.
Not after everything.
Unknown to Lyra…
Nyx watched quietly.
And within the darkness of her soul…
The great wolf sighed.
"Not yet."
"You are still too fragile."
"If they discover what you truly are…"
"They will come for you."
For buried deep within Lyra's blood—
Lay a power that had vanished from the world centuries ago.
A power spoken of only in forbidden legends.
A power even kings feared.
But Lyra knew nothing.
And Nyx intended to keep it that way.
For now.
---
Far away—
In Bloodfang territory—
Alpha Kael Draven stood upon a cliff.
The wind howled around him.
His golden eyes glowed.
His wolf had been restless for days.
More restless than ever before.
"Find her," his wolf growled.
"I know," Kael muttered.
"But where?"
He had searched neighboring territories.
Nothing.
Yet every night, he dreamed of silver eyes.
Sad eyes.
Beautiful eyes.
And in every dream—
The same woman stood surrounded by fire.
Crying.
Alone.
Calling his name.
Kael clenched his fists.
"Who are you?"
Little did he know—
The woman haunting his dreams—
The woman chosen by the Moon Goddess herself—
Had sworn to kill him.
---
Elsewhere…
Deep within a forgotten mountain.
Inside a ruined temple untouched for centuries—
An old man suddenly opened his eyes.
His body trembled.
"No…"
The candles around him extinguished.
He stared at an ancient prophecy carved into stone.
And for the first time in hundreds of years—
Fear entered his heart.
"The Silver Wolf…"
"Impossible."
"She should have died with the Nightbane bloodline."
His shaking hands touched the ancient words.
And tears filled his eyes.
"After all these centuries…"
"The Moon Daughter has returned."
---
- Writer
