CHAPTER 10: A Pact For Survival
633 Words
Alexander’s whisper—"He came to find you."—instantly froze Lyra’s seven years of hatred. The resonance that had filled the room had ceased, but the fear it instilled was permanent. In Alexander's arms, Lyra knew that this man, whom she despised, was now her only sanctuary.
"Who is he?" Lyra’s voice was strained. Her revenge plot had crumbled against her will.
Alexander detached Lyra from the wall, his gaze sharp, reverting to an icy Alpha authority. "He has no name. He is an entity. An ancient foe who has sought out Mates with cursed blood for centuries, wanting to steal the Moon’s power. When the Prophecy empowered you as the Moon Whisper, you drew him to yourself."
"So the Shadow Claws were just a diversion?"
"Yes," Alexander said, his face rigid. "They are merely the advance guard. He used the Shadow Claws to force you out of this Pack. The rejection was meant to keep you outside of his range."
"And the rejection you trusted so much failed," Lyra said bitterly. "You lied to me for seven years, and now that entity is back. I am responsible."
"No, I am responsible," Alexander snarled. He gripped Lyra’s chin, the touch conveying less of a command and more of a plea. "You have every right to hate me. But now, we must save this Pack, and we must save you."
Alexander took Lyra's hand. Lyra did not pull her hand away from Alexander’s powerful grasp. Vengeance still resided in Lyra’s heart, but the instinct for survival was stronger.
"We are going to the deepest bunker in the Pack," Alexander ordered. "There, you will show me exactly what your power can do. The Prophecy must have misinterpreted me. If your curse can both destroy and heal, then we can stand against that entity. Teach me the Moon Whisper, Lyra."
Lyra looked at Alexander’s face. Despite her hatred, there was an irresistible pull toward this man who was doing everything to protect her. "I will help you," Lyra said. "But that doesn't mean I am abandoning my plan for revenge. I will simply find another way to break you."
Alexander led the way down the dim corridor of the infirmary, heading for the bunker. They were nearly at the heavy door when the last remaining Shadow Claw burst from a side room and flung a dagger toward Alexander.
"Alexander!" Lyra roared.
The dagger sank deep into Alexander’s arm. Alexander staggered momentarily from the pain, but his wolf instantly recovered. Lyra did not attack the Shadow Claw. Lyra’s sole focus was Alexander’s wound. Blood flowed rapidly down Alexander’s muscular arm.
"Get in the bunker!" Alexander commanded, his voice choked with pain.
Lyra didn't obey. She swiftly yanked the dagger from Alexander’s arm. Silver light flowed from Lyra's hands into Alexander’s wound. Alexander gasped in shock; Lyra's healing power was incredibly potent at this close range. The blood flow stopped; the flesh began to knit together.
In such intense, healing contact, Lyra’s mind was exposed to the defenses of Alexander’s awareness. Lyra’s eyes closed. A brief, savage image flashed in the corner of Lyra’s mind:
Young Alexander's (on the day of rejection) face was etched with horror. As Alexander cursed Lyra's neck, a shadowy figure stood behind him. Alexander was whispering to the figure, "Just stay away from her." And Alexander's voice cried out Lyra's name in agony: Lyra...
Lyra pulled away from Alexander, breathless. She had healed Alexander's wound. The memory she had witnessed proved one thing: Alexander had not lied. There was indeed an enemy behind Alexander on the night of the exile.
Alexander’s eyes locked onto Lyra's. "What did you see, Lyra?"
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