Moon's Redemption

Chapter 5

The Hunt

Lyra woke before dawn to the sound of someone trying very quietly to pick the lock on her door. Six months of living alone had honed her survival instincts to a razor's edge. She rolled silently out of bed, grabbing the silver knife from under her pillow, and positioned herself beside the door.

The lock clicked open with barely a whisper of sound. Professional work.

The door opened slowly, and a figure in dark clothing slipped inside. Lyra waited until they were fully committed to entering before striking, pressing her knife to their throat and using her momentum to slam them against the wall.

"Well, well," she murmured, recognizing the scent. "Hello, Marcus."

The veterinarian from Millbrook looked nothing like the mild-mannered human she'd known. Gone were the soft brown eyes and gentle demeanor. The wolf pressed against her wall had ice-cold blue eyes and the lean, predatory build of a trained killer.

"Lyra Thorne," he said calmly, despite the silver blade at his throat. "You're a hard woman to kill."

"You're not the first to discover that." She pressed the knife deeper, drawing a thin line of blood. "Let me guess, you're not really a veterinarian, are you?"

"Oh, I am. It's amazing how much you can learn about local pack hierarchies when injured wolves need medical care and think you're just a harmless human." His smile was cold as winter. "Your pack's been very accommodating over the years."

"My former pack," Lyra corrected. "I renounced membership, remember? Which makes me curious why you'd risk exposing yourself to kill someone who's not even officially part of the group you're targeting."

"Because you're the one piece that doesn't fit the pattern. You were supposed to be broken, isolated, easy to manipulate or eliminate. Instead, you came back stronger." Marcus's eyes glittered with something like admiration. "My employer finds that... problematic."

"Your employer. Let me take a wild guess, someone who benefits from pack instability. Someone who's been playing a very long game to destabilize the entire region." Lyra tilted her head. "Someone who needed inside information about pack defenses and protocols."

"Very good. Though I'm afraid you won't live long enough to share your insights."

Marcus moved faster than any human should have been able to, his hand coming up to grab her wrist. But Lyra had spent six months learning to fight dirty, and she was ready for him. She drove her knee into his solar plexus while simultaneously twisting away from his grip, the silver knife opening a deeper cut across his throat.

He staggered back, blood flowing freely, but didn't go down. Whatever he was, he wasn't fully human.

"Hybrid," she realized aloud. "Human-werewolf hybrid. That's how you can pass among humans without triggering their instincts, but still have enhanced abilities."

"Clever girl." Marcus pulled his own weapon, a wicked-looking blade that gleamed with silver coating. "Too bad cleverness won't save you."

They circled each other in the small room, both looking for an opening. Lyra's mind raced as she processed what she'd learned. A hybrid working for someone who wanted pack destabilization, someone with access to inside information, someone who saw her as a specific threat...

The door burst open, and Kieran filled the doorway, his eyes immediately taking in the scene. "Lyra!"

The distraction was all Marcus needed. He lunged not at Lyra, but at Kieran, his silver blade aimed at the alpha's heart. Lyra didn't think, she just moved, throwing herself between them and taking the blade meant for Kieran high in her shoulder.

Pain exploded through her as silver burned werewolf flesh, but she managed to drive her own knife up under Marcus's ribs. He gasped, blood frothing at his lips, and collapsed.

"Jesus, Lyra!" Kieran caught her as she swayed, pressing his hands against the wound in her shoulder. "What the hell..."

"Hybrid," she gasped out. "Working for someone... someone who wants the packs destabilized. He knew too much about our defenses."

"We need to get you to the healer." Kieran lifted her easily, cradling her against his chest. "Derek! Get Sarah, now!"

As Kieran carried her toward the packhouse infirmary, Lyra fought to stay conscious. The silver poisoning was spreading through her system, making her thoughts fuzzy and her vision blur. But one thing remained crystal clear.

"Kieran," she mumbled against his shoulder. "The blade... it was meant for you. Someone wants you dead specifically."

"Shh, don't talk. Save your strength."

"No, listen." She grabbed his shirt with her good hand, forcing him to look at her. "This isn't just about pack destabilization. Someone's targeting alphas. Strong alphas. You're not just dealing with rogues, you're dealing with a coordinated campaign to eliminate alpha bloodlines."

Kieran's face went pale as the implications hit him. "A coup. Someone's planning to seize control of multiple territories."

"More than that." Lyra's voice was getting weaker as the silver worked its way through her system. "They specifically wanted me eliminated because I came back. Because I figured out the pattern. Which means..."

"Which means what?"

"Which means whoever's behind this is someone who knows me well enough to see me as a real threat." Her eyes drifted closed as consciousness finally slipped away. "Someone in the pack, Kieran. The traitor isn't just feeding information, they're orchestrating everything."

The last thing she heard was Kieran's voice, raw with emotion: "Stay with me, Lyra. Don't you dare leave me again."