Royal Messenger
763 Words
Chapter Twelve: The Royal Messenger
Rain fell in silver streaks as the royal envoy rode into the pack’s territory — four black horses, armor gleaming even in the dim light. The wolves watched from the shadows, tense and silent. Outsiders rarely crossed into Kael’s land. None had ever come bearing the crest of the D’Amara.
Lyra stood beside Kael on the porch, heart hammering. She tried to steady her breathing, but the sound of hooves striking the wet earth sent fear crawling up her spine.
When the riders stopped, the man in front dismounted first. His cloak was crimson, embroidered with golden threads that shimmered faintly — enchanted fabric. His face was sharp, cold, the kind that never smiled.
“Alpha Kael,” he greeted, bowing slightly. “I come on behalf of the Royal House of D’Amara.”
Kael’s voice was calm, but his stance was protective. “State your purpose.”
The man’s gaze slid to Lyra. “To retrieve what belongs to the Crown.”
Lyra froze. “I don’t belong to them.”
The envoy smiled thinly. “You misunderstand, Lady Lyra. You carry something the royal court wants returned. Something powerful.”
Kael stepped between them. “She’s under my protection.”
“Protection?” The messenger’s eyes flashed faintly gold. “You think a pack of wolves can shield her from her own bloodline?”
A growl rippled through the pack warriors nearby. Kael didn’t move, but his voice dropped, low and dangerous. “Careful.”
The envoy didn’t flinch. Instead, he reached into his cloak and pulled out a sealed letter, the royal crest pressed deep into the wax. He extended it toward Lyra. “From your mother.”
Her breath caught. For a moment, the world blurred. She hadn’t heard that word — mother — in years. With shaking hands, she broke the seal and unfolded the parchment.
The letter was written in elegant script she knew too well.
> My daughter,
The power you’ve awakened does not belong to you. Return to the estate at once. Refusal will bring consequences — for you, and for the creatures who shelter you.
— Lady D’Amara
The paper trembled in her hands. “Consequences,” she repeated softly. “They still think they can control me.”
Kael’s eyes darkened. “They threaten my people?”
The envoy’s smirk deepened. “The Queen does not issue threats. She makes promises.”
Lightning cracked overhead. The air around Lyra shifted — hot and sharp. Kael noticed the sudden pulse beneath her skin. Her magic was stirring again, wild and unrestrained.
“You should leave,” Kael warned.
But the envoy only straightened. “You can’t fight the blood that made her.”
Lyra’s voice was steady now, though her hands burned faintly with light. “You’re wrong.”
The envoy tilted his head. “Am I?”
The next second, the air exploded — a surge of power bursting from Lyra’s chest. The ground rippled, light flashing in a circle around her. The royal messenger stumbled back, shielding his eyes. The rain stopped midair, frozen droplets glittering like suspended stars.
Kael stepped forward, his hand hovering near her shoulder. “Lyra—”
But she didn’t hear him. Something ancient had stirred inside her, something older than the D’Amaras, older than the kingdom itself. Voices echoed faintly in her mind — whispers in a forgotten tongue.
When the light finally faded, the envoy was on one knee, staring at her in disbelief. “That… that power—”
Kael’s expression hardened. “You’ve seen enough.”
He motioned to his warriors. Two wolves stepped forward, forcing the envoy back toward his horse. “Tell the Queen,” Kael said coldly, “if she wants Lyra, she’ll have to come herself.”
The envoy’s glare lingered on Lyra. “You’ve just declared war, Alpha.”
Kael’s jaw tightened. “Then let it begin.”
The riders turned and galloped into the mist, their silhouettes vanishing into the forest. When the last hoofbeat faded, Lyra finally let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
Kael turned to her. “You didn’t do that on purpose, did you?”
She shook her head. “It just… happened.”
He studied her for a long moment, then said quietly, “They’re not after you anymore, Lyra. They’re afraid of you.”
The wind howled through the trees — a sound that almost felt like laughter. But deep inside, Lyra couldn’t shake the feeling that her family was far from done.
- Writer
