The Twins of the forgotten bond

The morning sun spread across Silvermoon Kingdom, casting a soft golden glow over the stone streets as merchants arranged baskets of herbs, fresh meat, and handmade tools ‎ ‎Wolves in human form walked through the busy market, each carrying the pride of belonging to one of the strongest werewolf kingdoms ‎ ‎Not everyone walked those streets with the same respect ‎ ‎Near the edge of the marketplace stood a small healing house built from pale wood and smooth river stones ‎ ‎The scent of crushed lavender, mint leaves, and fresh wolfbane drifted through its open windows ‎ ‎Inside, a young woman carefully wrapped a clean bandage around a little boy's arm ‎ ‎"There," she said with a gentle smile. "Try not to climb the old oak tree again for a few days." ‎ ‎The boy grinned sheepishly ‎ ‎"I'll try, Miss Lyra." ‎ ‎His mother laughed ‎ ‎"He says that every time." ‎ ‎Lyra Ashwood chuckled softly ‎ ‎"Then perhaps you'll listen to your mother before the tree." ‎ ‎The woman placed several silver coins on the table ‎ ‎Lyra pushed two of them back ‎ ‎"You need these more than I do." ‎ ‎"Oh, no..." ‎ ‎"I insist." ‎ ‎The woman looked at her with grateful eyes. ‎ ‎"May the Moon Goddess bless you, Lyra." ‎After they left, Lyra slowly cleaned the wooden table, humming quietly ‎ ‎She was known throughout the nearby villages for two things ‎ ‎Her gift for healing and the fact that she was an Omega ‎ ‎To many wolves, those two things should never have existed together ‎ ‎Outside, voices drifted through the open window ‎ ‎"Did you hear?" ‎ ‎"About what?" ‎ ‎"That Omega healer." ‎ ‎Lyra paused but kept arranging dried herbs. ‎ ‎"They say Alpha warriors travel miles just to see her." ‎ ‎"So what? She's still an Omega." ‎ ‎"No Omega belongs anywhere near the palace." ‎ ‎Another voice laughed ‎ ‎"Especially not near Prince Kael." ‎ ‎The laughter faded as they walked away. ‎Lyra lowered her eyes. ‎ ‎She had heard worse ‎ ‎Far worse ‎ ‎Being an Omega meant accepting whispers. ‎ ‎Accepting looks ‎ ‎Accepting that no matter how much good she did,many wolves would never see past the title she had been born with ‎ ‎A cheerful voice interrupted her thoughts. ‎ ‎"Miss Lyra!" ‎ ‎She looked up ‎ ‎An elderly wolf limped toward her doorway ‎ ‎Old Bram ‎ ‎His gray beard reached his chest, and his walking stick tapped gently against the wooden floor. ‎ ‎"My knee has decided to declare war on me again." ‎ ‎Lyra smiled warmly ‎ ‎"Then let's negotiate peace." ‎ ‎Old Bram laughed loudly ‎ ‎"I knew you'd say something like that." ‎She helped him sit. ‎ ‎"What were you doing this time?" ‎ ‎"I chased my grandson." ‎ ‎"You chased him?" ‎ ‎"He stole my favorite smoked rabbit." ‎ ‎Lyra tried not to laugh ‎ ‎"And you thought you could outrun a ten-year-old?" ‎ ‎"I nearly did." ‎ ‎She raised one eyebrow ‎ ‎"Nearly?" ‎ ‎He sighed dramatically ‎ ‎"My knee disagreed." ‎ ‎Lyra examined his swollen leg ‎ ‎"You'll need to rest." ‎ ‎"I don't like resting." ‎ ‎"I know." ‎ ‎"It makes me feel old." ‎ ‎"You are old." ‎ ‎Old Bram gasped ‎ ‎"I've been insulted." ‎ ‎Lyra burst into laughter. ‎ ‎"So dramatic." ‎ ‎"I'll remember this betrayal." ‎ ‎"You forget everything by supper." ‎ ‎"That's beside the point." ‎ ‎Their laughter filled the small clinic ‎ ‎Moments like these reminded Lyra why she stayed. ‎ ‎Healing others made the cruel words easier to bear ‎ ‎As Bram stood to leave, he suddenly became serious ‎ ‎"You're too kind for this kingdom." ‎ ‎Lyra blinked ‎ ‎"What do you mean?" ‎ ‎"There are wolves who smile at your face and sharpen their claws behind your back." ‎ ‎She frowned ‎ ‎"Is something wrong?" ‎ ‎Old Bram hesitated. ‎ ‎"I've lived a long time." ‎ ‎He lowered his voice ‎ ‎"The palace has been restless." ‎ ‎She felt a small knot tighten inside her chest ‎ ‎"Because of Prince Kael's coronation?" ‎ ‎He nodded. ‎ ‎"Power changes people." ‎ ‎"I don't believe it will change him." ‎ ‎Old Bram studied her expression. ‎ ‎"You trust him that much?" ‎ ‎Her cheeks warmed. ‎ ‎"I..." ‎ ‎Before she could answer, a familiar scent drifted through the doorway. ‎ ‎Fresh pine. ‎ ‎Rain. ‎ ‎Wild earth. ‎ ‎Her wolf stirred instantly ‎ ‎Mate ‎ ‎Lyra looked toward the entrance. ‎ ‎A tall man stepped inside wearing a dark traveling cloak that hid most of his royal clothing ‎ ‎His black hair fell neatly across his forehead. ‎ ‎Golden eyes searched the room until they landed on her ‎ ‎The moment he smiled,everything else disappeared ‎ ‎"Old Bram," the man said. ‎ ‎"I hope your knee survived." ‎ ‎Bram quickly bowed. ‎ ‎"My prince." ‎ ‎Prince Kael Blackthorne raised a hand. ‎"No titles today." ‎ ‎Old Bram chuckled knowingly ‎ ‎"As you wish." ‎ ‎He picked up his walking stick. ‎ ‎"I suddenly remembered I have somewhere else to be." ‎ ‎Lyra sighed. ‎ ‎"Bram..." ‎ ‎He winked at her. ‎ ‎"I'll return another day." ‎ ‎As soon as he left, silence settled inside the clinic.