The summons was posted at dawn.
Not sealed.
Not discreet.
Public.
Lyra read it once and felt the air leave her lungs.
Assembly required.
Authorization to be witnessed.
All ranks present.
Ronan wasn’t hiding anymore.
He was staging.
Tyler found her moments later, already dressed, jaw set in a way she recognized too well.
“He’s going to do this in front of them,” he said.
“Yes,” Lyra replied.
“He wants blood to have a face.”
“Yes.”
“And that face will be yours.”
Lyra folded the notice carefully and slid it into her pocket. “Then I’ll make sure they see everything else, too.”
The assembly ground filled faster than any gathering she’d seen.
Not because of loyalty.
Because of fear.
Wolves lined the stone tiers, murmuring low, eyes fixed on the central platform where a single
