The cavern vanished.
The shadows weren’t just darkness anymore—they were alive, wrapping around Lyra like chains, dragging her away from the light and fire she had unleashed. Her lungs seized, her body thrashing, but every movement only tightened Kieran’s hold.
“Stop fighting,” his voice rasped, echoing in her skull as if he spoke from inside her. “The Moon made you mine. Every breath proves it.”
Her wolf howled in denial, silver fire sparking against the dark coils, but the flames sputtered, smothered before they could ignite.
“Lyra!” Kael’s roar split the air, raw, desperate. He fought to push through the shadows, golden eyes blazing, claws digging furrows into stone. He was bleeding badly, but his strength was terrifying—his rejection, his mistakes, none of it mattered when she saw
