Chapter3
1217 Words
Azrael’s eyes appeared to perceive beyond her, the branches of possibility spreading around them. “I can give you more than escape, Lyra. "I can give you power — power to forge your own fate, to shield yourself from those who might make a tool of you.” He reached a hand out toward the perimeter of the circle. “But those gifts do not come without a cost. Are you willing to pay for it?"
"What is your price?" she whispered.
"Nothing you cannot afford. "Whatever it is that you won’t willingly give, joyfully instead of begrudgingly.” His voice caressed her soul. “All I ask is for connection, for moments of your time, for the honor of showing you wonders beyond imagination. And is that such a dreadful cost of freedom? For power? To a fate of your own making?”
“You speak in riddles,” she said. “What would this ‘connection’ even consist of?”
"Conversation, Princess. Knowledge is shared between us. Perhaps, in time, more." His eyes gleamed. “But nothing that you do not freely choose.”
“So as payment for this knowledge, for this… connection, you will assist me in escaping a marriage to Carlus?”
“I will give you the ability to carve your own path,” Azrael declared. “Freedom from Carlus, yes, but more so — freedom to be who you are meant to be.”
How do I know I can trust you? Lyra asked.
"You don't." Azrael’s eyes glowed with violet light. Trust must be earned. But hear me out — I answered your call earnestly. I have not concealed my essence or my wants. Is the same true for the men who presume to govern your life? Your daddy, who would sell you for political gain? Carlus, concealing his true nature behind a mask of noble breeding?”
His words struck her. How many lies had her father told under the name of duty?
"What must I do?" she asked.
“Just agree to meet with me again for now,” Azrael said. Tomorrow night, and the next night. We will talk. And when the Silver Veil delegation descends upon you, you will know precisely how to act.”
“I agree,” she said, the words sending ripples that would resonate far beyond this hidden chamber.
“Then it is settled, Princess Lyra.” He bowed. Until tomorrow night. Sleep well, and dream of liberty.”
The chamber was immersed in darkness. When the light returned, Azrael had gone.
Had she imagined it all? No. Her palm still stung where the cut had been. And something else had stayed — a sense of possibility where previously there had only been despair.
As she ascended the stairs, Lyra sensed that something was behind her. Without looking back, she smiled into the dark.
So tomorrow would come Silver Veil and Carlus’s marriage proposal. But tomorrow night she will see Azrael again, the general who would grant her freedom.
As she panted to the top of the stairs, a cold flutter crept up her back. The chapel door stood ajar — she clearly recalled shutting it. In the moonlight a shadow passed.
“Princess Lyra,” a voice said in a whisper. “What a surprise to find you here at this time.”
Her blood ran cold and she froze, as she recognized the voice. It had belonged to her father’s most trusted advisor — the one person who knew the secrets of the Oak wolf pack.
And now, he knew hers.
"Lord Eldrin." Lyra did her best to keep her voice steady as her heart hammered.
The advisor emerged from the shadows, silver-streaked hair shining in the moonlight. His sardonic eyes took in her bedraggled state and the partially concealed knife.
“It’s been abandoned for many decades, this chapel. And here’s our princess, alone at midnight.” His eyes fell on the bleeding palm of her hand. "With blood on her hands."
“I went away to pray about my marriage.”
The smile on Eldrin's face was devoid of warmth. "Praying requires blood now? Curious customs."
"An offering. The old ways say blood makes prayer strong."
“The old ways were banned for a good reason.” He blocked her exit. “Your father would want to know about your … religious devotion.”
Warmth of power coursed through Lyra. She stiffened, suddenly invincible.
“Are you threatening me, Lord Eldrin?”
There was something in her voice that made him back off. “I give advice, nothing else.”
“Then counsel this — some things I carry alone.
His voice came after her as she turned to leave. “Be careful who you let into your soul, princess. Some guests never leave."
********
“The Silver Veil delegation will arrive by midday — hours earlier than anticipated,” Nira said.
Once again alone, Lyra went to her window.
"Thinking of me, Princess?"
She spun around. Azrael stood in her chamber, more real somehow than her surroundings.
"You can't be here!"
“This connection between us means I can find you wherever you are. His eyes flashed emerald. “Your father’s closet adviser scares you.
"Eldrin suspects something."
"Of course. He's more than he appears. He has his own secrets."
"What do you mean?"
"In time." Azrael held his fingers above her cheeks. "The Silver Veil delegation is arriving today.
His almost-touch radiated heat. "What should I do?"
"Play your part. "Tonight I will show you truths about powers you have and never knew you had.
"What powers?"
“You’re much more than a royal bargaining chip, Lyra.” He adorned her name with the gentleness of a caress. “Rules were meant to be broken, not followed, so you were born to.”
Something within her came to life. She felt a spiritual pull toward him, like he could perceive a version of herself she couldn’t even risk the thought of.
“I can’t trust you,” she said in a whisper.
"Yet you do." Finally, his fingers brushed against her jaw. Visions raced behind her eyes — impossibly rendered landscapes, power flowing like rivers of light.
She gasped, staggering back. "What was that?"
"A glimpse of what awaits us. Tonight, after your duties. We will begin."
"Begin what?"
"Your transformation." He disappeared, leaving behind nothing but scent.
Lyra had started counting the hours until it got dark.
Torchlights blazed across the Great Hall. The Silver Veil delegation entered—twenty warriors lined the aisle for Beta Selene, clad head to toe in white.
“Alpha Carlus regrets he could not be here in person.” She fixed her glacier-blue gaze on Lyra. “He can’t wait to meet his bride.”
His bride. The words ought to have chilled Lyra. Instead, she felt strangely remote.
"May I inspect the bride?" Selene asked. “My brother had specific orders.”
Lyra stood. "I have nothing to hide."
Selene paced around her, slowly, then bent over her and inhaled deeply. Confusion flickered in her eyes, then suspicion.
"Is something amiss?" asked King Theron.
"Not at all. Even though she has an odd smell, I can’t identify.”
Lyra's heart raced. Could Selene smell Azrael upon her?
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