Lyra’s body felt heavy, as though the cavern floor had swallowed her whole. Silver fire still glowed faintly under her skin, but it no longer obeyed her. Instead, it curled like a serpent, drawn tighter and tighter around her chest by Kieran’s voice in her mind.
You are mine, Moonborn, he whispered, velvet and venom. No bond of theirs can keep you from me. Not Kael’s, not Lucien’s, not even your precious wolf. You will burn for me.
Her breath caught. She tried to fight him, to push his voice away, but the pull was sharp, invasive. It felt like chains digging into her ribs, dragging her toward the darkness.
Through the haze, Kael’s roar broke through. His wolf’s golden eyes blazed across the battlefield, his massive body barreling through rogues to reach her. The others followed—Ronan’s
