The void was no longer a place of stars or memories. It was a throat—vast, wet, and pulsing with the collective heartbeat of every living wolf. I was suspended in the center of the spectral beast’s maw, the three heads of the guardian looming over me. The middle head, wearing my mother’s face, didn't bite down; it breathed a cold, silver mist into my lungs that tasted of ancient starlight and fresh blood.
“To hold the darkness, you must become the vessel,” the Mother-head whispered, her voice vibrating through my very bones. “But a vessel cannot be divided, Lyra. The Alpha and the Rogue, the Sun and the Moon... they were never meant to be separate paths for you to choose.”
I looked down. Below the spectral beast, the village was a blur of crimson chaos. I saw Ryker and Darian standing ba
