The Silver Lycan

Chapter 9

The room was quiet except for the soft rhythm of Lyra’s breathing. Blake sat in the chair beside her bed, his gaze fixed on her peaceful face. She looked so vulnerable in her sleep, a stark contrast to the fierce warrior he had seen just hours ago. His mind replayed the scene of her fighting the rogue, her strength, her determination, and then the moment when her claws emerged.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped together. Arlan stirred in his mind, restless and protective. His wolf had been on edge since the attack, growling at the memory of Lyra being hurt. We should have been there. She’s ours to protect.

Blake sighed softly. “I know, Arlan. I know.”

Lyra shifted slightly in her sleep, her fingers twitching as if caught in a dream. Blake straightened, his gray eyes sharp, watching her every movement. When she finally stirred, her stormy gray eyes fluttering open, he felt a strange mix of relief and anticipation.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice low and steady.

Her gaze met his, and for a moment, he felt like the world had stilled. He quickly pushed the thought aside, focusing on her well-being.

They talked quietly, her voice soft but determined as she expressed her worry for Blaire. Blake admired her for that—her selflessness, her unwavering loyalty to his family. But he couldn’t let her push herself too far. He had to protect her, even if it meant protecting her from her own stubbornness.

When she finally agreed to rest, Blake felt a wave of relief. He watched as her eyes grew heavy, her breathing evening out once more. Her hand remained in his, small and warm, a comforting weight that he didn’t want to let go of.

As she drifted back to sleep, Blake leaned back in his chair, his mind wandering.

They had grown up together, Lyra and him. From the moment his mother brought her home, a tiny baby with silvery-gray hair and stormy eyes, he was a year older than Lyra But his mother told him that Blake had showed an inexplicable connection to her. As they grew older, that connection only deepened.

He remembered how she would follow him around as a child, her small legs struggling to keep up with him and his friends. She had always been determined, never backing down from a challenge. And when she started training with the pack warriors, Blake couldn’t help but feel proud of her.

His friends had noticed his fondness for her early on. “Blake and Lyra,” Alec had teased one day during training. “The power couple of the Blue Moon Pack.”

Roland had joined in, grinning. “A perfect match. The future alpha and the fiercest warrior.”

Blake had laughed it off, warning them not to say such things when Lyra was around. She had always been quick to put them in their place if they dared to tease her. But deep down, their words had struck a chord.

If he had a choice for a chosen mate, it would always be Lyra. There was no one else who understood him the way she did, no one else who challenged him, supported him, and made him want to be better.

But he had kept his distance. He didn’t want to make things harder for her, knowing how much she already carried on her shoulders. She was still searching for answers about her past, about who she was. Blake didn’t want to add to her burden.

Now, sitting beside her, he couldn’t stop the memories of the previous day from flooding his mind. His mother’s simple request for Lyra to pick up Blaire had seemed routine, nothing out of the ordinary. He hadn’t thought twice about it either.

But then the attack happened.

Blake clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. The thought of Lyra facing that rogue alone, with Blaire in the car, made his blood boil. Arlan growled in agreement. Never again, Blake vowed silently. I won’t let her out of my sight again.

He glanced at Lyra, her face relaxed in sleep. She looked so small, so fragile, but he knew better. She was stronger than anyone gave her credit for. Stronger than even she realized.

And then there was the matter of her claws, her sudden burst of strength and speed. Blake couldn’t ignore the questions swirling in his mind. What did it mean? Where had that power come from? Could it be connected to her biological parents? Who are - were they? His mother did not divulge any information to anyone about Lyra's parents, not even to my father, which my father respected. Knowing my mother, that she do not act impulsively. If she chooses to keep Lyra's past a secret, she has her reasons.

His father’s concerns echoed in his thoughts, but Blake pushed them aside for now. What mattered most was that Lyra was safe.

As the hours passed, Blake stayed by her side, his thoughts drifting between the past and the future. He couldn’t wait for Lyra to turn 18, for her wolf to finally emerge. He had a feeling—no, a certainty—that she is his mate. Arlan’s fondness for her only reinforced that belief. He is specifically fond to her - only to Lyra.

The first time he had shifted into Arlan, his wolf had immediately sought out Lyra. Blake remembered the way Arlan had nuzzled her, protective and affectionate, as if she was already his. Lyra had laughed, scratching behind Arlan’s ears, completely unaware of the significance.

Blake smiled faintly at the memory. If she was his mate, he would do everything in his power to protect her, to make her happy. And if she wasn’t… His chest tightened at the thought, but he pushed it away. He couldn’t think like that. Not now.

As dawn began to break, Blake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees once more. He would wait as long as it took for Lyra to wake up, to recover.

Because no matter what the future held, one thing was certain: he would always be by her side.