The Silver Lycan

Chapter 6

BLAKE's POV

When we reached the north forest road, the scent of blood hit me first. It was sharp and metallic, carried by the cool breeze as we raced through the forest. My wolf, Arlan, was restless, pacing in the back of my mind, urging me to move faster. I reached the location first, having alpha blood, I was faster than the others.

The moment I heard as the patrol relayed Lyra’s message—she and Blaire were under attack by a rogue. A rogue. That word alone was enough to send fear and fury coursing through me. Blaire, my sister, was just a child, and Lyra... I can't think of them being hurt. I'd rip anyone to pieces if anyone dares to hurt them.

Lyra was strong, skilled, and resilient, but she didn’t have her wolf yet. She was fighting with nothing but human strength and the skills she gained during the trainings she had from the pack.

Five minutes. That’s what the patrol said it would take us to reach her. Five minutes is too long.

I pushed harder, my legs burning as I ran, Alfred, Roland, and Alec close behind me. The forest blurred around us, shadows stretching long as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

When I finally broke through the trees and onto the road, the scene before me stopped me cold.

I saw how Lyra was able to move so fast. I saw she was able to grab its neck and slammed and twisted its neck. The rogue lay motionless on the ground, its body twisted and bloodied. Lyra stood a few feet away, her chest heaving, her clothes torn and blood-streaked. Her silver-gray hair was wild, falling around her face in disarray, but her stormy gray eyes were sharp, alive with something I couldn’t quite place. Her hands. Her hands-have claws??? HOW?!

My eyes scanned for Blaire. Blaire was in the car, her face pale but unharmed. Relief flooded me at the sight of her, but my attention snapped back to Lyra when I noticed the way she was holding herself—like she was trying to keep from collapsing.

"Lyra?" I called, stepping forward.

Her head jerked up, her eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, she looked vulnerable, like the weight of what had just happened was finally hitting her. But then she straightened, her jaw tightening.

"You’re late," she said, her voice steadier than I expected.

I ignored the jab and closed the distance between us, my eyes scanning her for injuries. There were scratches on her arms and shoulders, her clothes were torn, and there was dried blood on her hands.

"You killed it," I said, more a statement than a question.

She nodded, her eyes flicking to the rogue’s body.

"By yourself?"

"Yes."

I studied her, trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Lyra was skilled, yes, but killing a rogue alone? That wasn’t something even some of the warriors could manage without their wolves.

And then I saw it—the faint tremble in her hands, the way she kept glancing at them like she didn’t recognize them.

"Lyra," I said carefully, "your claws. I saw them."

Her eyes widened, and she looked down at her hands. "I don’t know what happened," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "It just… happened."

I felt a chill run down my spine. Claws. That meant only one thing—her wolf. But Lyra didn’t have a wolf. Not yet.

Arlan stirred in my mind, his voice low and contemplative. "She’s not ordinary, Blake. You’ve always known that."

I pushed the thought aside for now.

"Are you hurt?" I asked, my voice softening.

"A little," she said, holding up her arm to show me the scratches. "It's just a scratch. I needed to protect Blaire."

I reached out, my fingers brushing against her skin as I examined the wounds. They weren’t deep, but the sight of her blood still made something primal rise in me. "You did well," I said, meeting her eyes. "You protected Blaire. "You protected Blaire. We have to treat your wound. You don't have your wolf yet. Healing takes time."

Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something, but she stayed silent.

Behind me, the warriors began to move, securing the rogue’s body. Alfred approached, his brow furrowed as he took in the scene.

"One rogue?" he asked, his tone skeptical.

"One that we know of," I replied, my voice clipped. "Make sure the area is clear. We can’t take any chances."

Alfred nodded, signaling to the others to spread out. Roland and Alec joined us, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. Roland, ever the strategist, was already analyzing the situation.

"Lyra," he said, his tone measured, "how did you manage to kill it?"

She hesitated, her eyes flicking to me before she answered. "I used everything I’ve learned."

"And the claws?" Alec asked, his voice softer but no less curious.

Lyra’s gaze dropped to the ground. "I don’t know," she said again. "It just happened."

The twins exchanged a glance, but neither pressed further.

I turned back to Lyra, my mind racing. This wasn’t something we could ignore. If Lyra’s wolf was starting to emerge, it could mean a lot of things.

"Let’s get back to the pack house," I said, my tone firm. "We need to report this to my parents."

Lyra nodded, her shoulders slumping slightly as the adrenaline began to wear off.

As we made our way back through the forest, I couldn’t shake the image of her standing over the rogue, her claws glinting in the fading light. Lyra had always been different, but this… this was something else entirely.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She was walking beside Blaire, her hand resting protectively on my sister’s shoulder.

---------

The news hit Alpha Drake Redwood like a thunderclap. He had just stepped out of a strategy meeting with the pack’s senior warriors when one of the patrol guards burst into the room, his face pale and his voice trembling.

“Alpha,” the guard said, bowing low. “It’s Lyra. She—she killed a rogue. Alone.”

Drake froze, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he processed the words. “What did you just say?”

“She fought off a rogue, Alpha. Protected Blaire. The patrol arrived too late—she’d already killed it by herself.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the guard’s labored breathing. Drake’s imposing frame seemed to grow even larger as he straightened, his expression a mixture of shock and disbelief.

“By herself?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.

“Yes, Alpha. Blake and the others confirmed it. They’re bringing her and Blaire back to the pack house now.”

Drake clenched his fists, his mind racing. A rogue attack was rare enough, but for Lyra—who didn’t even have her wolf yet—to take one down alone? It defied everything he knew about strength and training.

He dismissed the guard quickly and exited the room. He turned to his Beta, Joshua, who had been standing silently by his side. “Send word to the warriors. Double the patrols around the territory. I want to know how that rogue got through our borders.”

“Yes, Alpha,” Joshua replied and left.

Drake’s jaw tightened as he strode toward the main hall, his mind a whirlwind of questions. How had Lyra managed to do it? What kind of strength had she tapped into?

Meanwhile, Luna Sara Redwood was in the family wing, tending to Blaire. Her youngest child was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a soft blanket, her green eyes wide with lingering fear.

“Mama,” Blaire whispered, clutching Sara’s hand. “The rogue. It was so big. Lyra fought it and saved me.”

Sara’s heart ached at the tremor in her daughter’s voice, but she forced herself to remain calm. “You’re safe now, sweetheart,” she said gently, brushing Blaire’s auburn hair back from her face.

Blaire nodded, “She got hurt, Mama. I saw the blood.”

Sara’s stomach twisted at the thought, but she kept her voice steady. “Lyra is strong, Blaire. She’ll be okay.”

She signaled to an omega who had been standing nearby. “Stay with her and make sure she rests.”

“Yes, Luna,” the omega said.

Sara’s composed façade cracked as soon as she left Blaire. She hurried toward the clinic, her mind focused solely on Lyra.

When Sara entered the clinic, Drake was already there, pacing like a caged animal. His black hair was disheveled, and his blue eyes burned with a mix of anger and concern.

“Where is she?” Sara asked, her voice urgent.

“In the examination room,” Drake replied, his tone clipped. “The healer is with her now.”

Sara pushed past him and entered the room, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Lyra.

The girl was sitting on the edge of the examination table, her silver-gray hair tangled and streaked with blood. Her stormy gray eyes were downcast, her expression distant. The pack doctor was carefully cleaning the scratches on her arms, but it was clear Lyra’s injuries were superficial compared to the emotional toll of the fight.

“Lyra,” Sara said softly, moving to her side. Lyra looked up, and for a moment, the mask of strength she always wore slipped. Sara pulled her into a gentle embrace, mindful of her injuries. Lyra stiffened slightly, as if unsure how to accept the comfort, but then she relaxed, leaning into Sara’s warmth.

Drake stepped into the room, his towering presence filling the space. “Lyra,” he said, his voice gruff. “Tell me exactly what happened.” Lyra straightened, pulling away from Sara. She recounted the events in a calm, measured tone, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes when she described the moment her claws emerged.

“I don’t know how it happened,” she admitted, looking down at her hands. “One moment, I was pinned down, and the next… I had claws. I felt stronger, faster. I don’t understand it.”

Drake exchanged a glance with Sara, his expression unreadable. “You’ve never shown signs of your wolf before,” he said, his voice low. “But this… this changes everything.”

Sara placed a hand on his arm. “Drake,” she said quietly, “this isn’t entirely unexpected.” Sara hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Lyra has always been different. We’ve seen it in her strength, her intelligence, her instincts. This…is just the next step.”

Drake frowned, his mind working through her words. “You’re saying you expected this?”

“Not exactly,” Sara admitted. “But I’ve always believed Lyra was destined for something greater. You’ve seen it too, Drake. She’s not like anyone else in the pack.”

Drake ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “But we don’t know where she came from, who her parents are. What if this is just the beginning of something we can’t control?”

Sara’s green eyes softened. “She’s one of us, Drake. Trust me.”

Drake sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “We’ll need to keep an eye on her,” he said. “And we need answers. If her wolf is starting to emerge, we need to know why.”

Sara nodded, turning back to Lyra. “For now, you need to rest,” she said gently. “You’ve been through enough for one day.”

Lyra hesitated but eventually nodded.

As the pack doctor finished tending to her wounds, Sara and Drake stepped out of the room, their expressions somber.

“She’s strong,” Sara said.

“I know,” Drake replied, his tone thoughtful.