The loss didn’t come with blood.
That was what unsettled Lyra most.
She felt it before anyone spoke, before the compound fully woke, before the guards changed shifts. The bond shifted at dawn, subtle but unmistakable, like a familiar rhythm dropping a beat. Not pain. Not warning.
Absence.
She paused halfway down the inner steps, fingers tightening against the stone railing as the sensation settled deeper in her chest. The air felt thinner today, stretched tight over something hollow.
Mara found her there.
“We’ve got a problem,” Mara said.
Lyra didn’t ask questions. She’d learned that questions were a luxury you only had when the answer didn’t already live in your bones.
They moved fast through the compound. Wolves straightened too late as they passed. Others turned away entirely. T
