The blades fell.
Silver arcs of moonlight sliced through the hall, each aimed at the phantom doors, each meant to erase. Selene’s eyes gleamed, cold and merciless, as though the goddess relished Lyra’s destruction more than her choice.
“No!” Lyra’s scream cracked open the air.
Her wolf surged, frantic and wild, clawing up through her veins. Pain split her ribs as if her bones were breaking into something new, something wrong. Her chains seared hotter, Selene’s runes trying to smother the rebellion—yet the beast inside her refused to bow.
A rush of heat tore through her, not silver, not shadow. Something else. A power she didn’t recognize—darker than moonlight, brighter than fire.
The blades froze mid-air, trembling.
Selene’s expression flickered. “Impossible…”
Lyra’s voice came ragg
