CHAPTER3
1122 Words
The nightmares began that night.
Lyra woke drenched in sweat, the darkness of her room pressing against her like a weight. The shadows seemed thicker, denser, curling along the corners of the walls like tendrils of smoke. Her heart raced, each beat loud in the silence. She sat up slowly, her breath catching in her throat as she glanced around.
She could still feel Kael’s rejection like a brand on her soul. The pain lingered, deep and raw, making her wolf whimper in the back of her mind. But there was something else now — something darker. It slithered beneath her skin, cold and foreign.
Pushing the covers aside, she padded to the bathroom and flipped on the light. The fluorescent glow buzzed to life, stinging her eyes as she leaned over the sink, splashing water on her face. She gripped the edges of the porcelain, her knuckles white as she stared at her reflection.
Her eyes shifted.
Lyra gasped and stumbled back, heart pounding in her chest. Her hazel irises darkened, swirling with inky shadows that bled into the whites of her eyes. She blinked rapidly, and they faded back to normal.
“What the hell…”
Her wolf stirred uneasily. “Something’s wrong.”
The days blurred together after that. The whispers started soon after.
Soft at first, like the wind rustling through the trees. But soon they grew louder, curling around her mind like smoke.
“He will pay. They will all pay.”
Lyra squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her hands against her ears, but it did nothing to drown them out.
Kael avoided her, his gaze cold whenever their eyes met. The rest of the pack whispered behind her back.
“Cursed,” they said. “Rejected and marked by darkness.”
She bit her lip, shoving the pain down deep. She wouldn’t break. Not again.
That night, the shadows thickened.
She woke to the sound of her name whispered through the darkness. Heart racing, she sat up, scanning the room.
“Lyra…”
The voice was soft, almost tender, but there was a darkness beneath it that made her skin crawl. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, feet hitting the cold floor. The air felt thick, heavy with something she couldn’t name.
She turned toward the window. The moon hung high in the sky, its light casting long shadows across the room. As she watched, the darkness shifted.
A figure stood at the edge of her vision.
Lyra’s breath caught. “Who’s there?”
The figure didn’t move, didn’t speak. It only watched.
She stepped forward, her heart hammering in her chest. “What do you want?”
The shadows shifted again, and the figure vanished. The whispers curled around her mind once more.
“Soon.”
The next morning, she found claw marks raking down her bedroom walls.
Her stomach twisted as she ran trembling fingers over the deep grooves. Her breath hitched when she saw the message carved into the wood:
“Set me free.”
Her breathing quickened. “Who are you?”
No answer came. Only silence.
Kael watched her from afar, his gaze unreadable. She felt his eyes on her every time she moved, but he never approached. He had made his choice.
And now something else had chosen her.
That night, the darkness crept closer.
Lyra lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Her body felt heavy, her mind foggy. The shadows curled along the edges of the room, darker than before.
She closed her eyes, but sleep didn’t come.
Then she felt it.
Cold fingers brushed against her arm.
Her eyes snapped open, heart racing. The darkness shifted, and for a moment, she swore she saw eyes staring back at her from the shadows. A soft whisper brushed against her ear, icy and soft.
“Almost time.”
Lyra bolted upright, gasping for breath. The room was empty, but the whispers lingered.
She clutched the blankets to her chest, staring into the darkness.
Something was coming.
And there was nowhere to run.
The next day, she wandered the forest, hoping the cool air would calm her racing heart. The trees loomed overhead, their branches twisting like skeletal fingers. She paused by a stream, watching the water flow past.
A ripple disturbed the surface.
She frowned, leaning closer.
The reflection that stared back wasn’t her own.
It was darker, twisted, with eyes black as coal. The shadows writhed around its form, curling like smoke. Lyra stumbled back, heart hammering in her chest.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
The reflection only smiled.
That night, she didn’t sleep.
She sat by the window, watching the moon rise high into the sky. Her wolf stirred restlessly beneath her skin, uneasy. The whispers had grown louder, almost deafening now.
“He will pay. They will all pay.”
Lyra squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her hands against her ears. “Leave me alone!”
The whispers fell silent.
Then the shadows moved.
A dark figure stepped into the moonlight, its eyes glowing like embers in the darkness. Lyra froze, fear curling in her stomach.
“Who are you?” she whispered.
The figure tilted its head, a cold smile curling at its lips.
“You already know.”
The darkness surged forward, wrapping around her like a cloak. Lyra gasped, struggling against the cold that seeped into her bones. The whispers returned, louder now.
“Set me free.”
Lyra screamed, the sound echoing through the night.
When the pack found her the next morning, she was alone.
But the darkness remained.
Lyra felt a shiver run down her spine at the seer’s words. The Shadow Alpha. She had heard the legends, but they were just that—stories to frighten pups around the campfire. Yet, the fear in the seer’s eyes was real.
“What do I do?” Lyra asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The seer released her wrist and pointed to a table cluttered with ancient tomes and vials of strange liquids. “There is a ritual. It can bind the darkness, but it comes at a price.”
Lyra’s heart pounded in her chest. “What price?”
The seer’s expression softened, a rare glimpse of sympathy. “A sacrifice. One of great personal cost.”
Lyra’s mind raced. She had already lost so much—her pack, her mate. What more could she possibly give? But the darkness inside her was growing stronger, and she knew she had no choice.
“I’ll do it,” she said, determination hardening her voice.
The seer nodded and began to gather the necessary items. “We must hurry. The Blood Moon rises soon.”
- Writer
