LYRA
I woke up to silence.
It was not the comfortable kind. It was the kind that pressed against my ears and made me hyper-aware of every breath I took.
The room was still dim, early morning light filtering weakly through the heavy curtains. I lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, my chest tight with the memory of last night.
“Your wolf.”
Sky's voice was so clear. So calm. Like she'd always been there, just waiting for me to notice.
I pressed my palms against my eyes and exhaled slowly.
"I'm not crazy," I whispered to the empty room.
"You're not," Sky replied softly.
I flinched, my hands dropping. "Can you just… not? For like five minutes?"
She didn't respond, but I felt her presence settle, like she was giving me space. That should have been comforting. But it wasn't.
I sat up slowly, my body aching in ways that had nothing to do with the fire. My muscles felt stretched, like something beneath my skin was trying to wake up, and I was holding it down.
I needed to see Willow.
I threw off the covers and padded across the cold stone floor. The packhouse was eerily quiet this early. No footsteps or voices. Just the faint creak of old wood settling.
Willow's room was just down the hall. I knocked softly.
"Willow?"
No answer.
I knocked again, louder this time. "Will?"
Still nothing.
Panic flared in my chest. I pushed the door open.
The bed was empty but made. Like she'd been up for a while.
"Where is she?" I muttered, stepping back into the hallway.
"She's safe," Sky said.
"How do you know that?"
"Because no one here would touch her. Not while you're under his protection."
His.
Zeviar.
I hated how that word made me feel protected and claimed. Like I was some fragile thing that needed guarding.
I moved quickly through the halls, my bare feet silent on the stone floors. I passed a few pack members along the way. They all stopped and stared. Some nodded. Others just watched me with expressions I couldn't read.
I kept my head down and kept walking.
Finally, I found her.
Willow sat near a large window in what looked like a common room, her knees pulled up to her chest. She was staring outside, her face pale and drawn.
Relief flooded through me.
"Will," I breathed.
She turned, her eyes lighting up when she saw me. "Lyra."
I crossed the room quickly and sat beside her. "I woke up and you weren't there. I thought—"
"I couldn't sleep," she said quietly. "I kept hearing things and sounds. Like… animals."
My stomach tightened.
"Wolves," I said.
She nodded. "Yeah. Wolves."
We sat in silence for a moment. Outside, the packlands stretched endlessly, green and wild under the pale morning sky.
"This place doesn't feel real," Willow said softly.
"Does it feel real to you?"
I swallowed. "No."
She glanced at me. "How are you so calm?"
I almost laughed. "I'm not."
"You seem like you are," she pressed. "You've barely said anything since we got here. You're just… going along with it."
"What else am I supposed to do?" I asked.
"I don't know," she admitted. "Fight? Demand answers? Just do something."
I looked down at my hands. They were shaking slightly.
"I'm scared," I said quietly. "I'm really scared, Will."
Her expression softened. She reached over and squeezed my hand.
"Me too."
We made our way to the dining hall together.
It was massive. Long wooden tables stretched the length of the room, and the smell of food—eggs, bread, something savory—filled the air.
Pack members were already gathered, eating and talking in low voices. The moment we stepped inside, the noise dulled.
Heads turned.
I felt every pair of eyes on us.
Willow's grip on my arm tightened. "I don't like this."
"Me neither," I muttered.
Mira appeared from somewhere near the kitchen, smiling warmly. "Good morning. Come, sit. I'll bring you both something to eat."
We followed her to a smaller table near the edge of the room. It felt deliberate. Separate.
"Thank you," I said as she set down plates in front of us.
She nodded and disappeared again.
I picked at my food, my appetite nonexistent. Across the room, I could still feel people watching. Whispering.
"They don't want us here," Willow said quietly.
"I know."
"Do you think he'll let us leave?" she asked.
I looked at her. "I don't know."
She set down her fork. "Lyra!"
Something in her tone made me stop.
"What?"
She hesitated, then leaned in closer. "You've been different since the fire."
My chest tightened. "What do you mean?"
"I mean you almost died," she said. "And then you woke up, and it's like… I don't know. You're here, but you're not."
"Will—"
"Don't," she interrupted gently. "Don't brush this off. I know you. And I know when something's wrong."
I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't come.
How could I tell her? How could I explain that there was a voice in my head? That my body reacted to a man I barely knew like it was trying to tear itself apart? That I was apparently something I didn't even understand?
"I'm fine," I said finally.
"You're lying."
I looked away.
"Lyra," Willow said softly. "Whatever it is… you can tell me."
Before I could respond, the air shifted.
It wasn't loud. It wasn't obvious. But something changed.
My chest tightened suddenly, heat blooming beneath my ribs. My breath caught.
"He's close," Sky murmured.
I gripped the edge of the table.
"Lyra?" Willow's voice sounded distant. "Are you okay?"
I tried to answer, but my body wouldn't cooperate.
The warmth spread quickly, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. My hands trembled.
Not again.
"Lyra," Willow said more urgently. She grabbed my arm. "What's happening?"
"I don't know," I gasped.
The door at the far end of the hall opened.
Zeviar stepped inside.
The reaction was immediate. My entire body seized, heat flooding through me so intensely I couldn't breathe. My vision clouded.
He didn't look at me. He didn't even glance in my direction. But I felt him. Every step he took echoed through me like a pulse.
Willow was talking, but I couldn't hear her. All I could hear was my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.
Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped.
Zeviar turned and left.
I sagged forward, gasping for air.
"Lyra!" Willow's hands were on my shoulders, shaking me slightly. "What the hell was that?"
I couldn't answer. I could barely think.
Before either of us could say anything else, Mira appeared at our table. Her expression was apologetic but firm.
"Lyra," she said gently. "The Alpha is asking for you."
My stomach dropped.
Willow's eyes widened. "Now?"
Mira nodded. "Now."
I stood on shaky legs, my heart still racing.
Willow grabbed my hand. "I'm coming with you."
"No," Mira said quickly. "Just Lyra."
Willow's jaw tightened. "That's not happening."
"Will," I said quietly. "It's okay."
"It's not okay," she snapped. "None of this is okay."
I squeezed her hand once, then let go.
"I'll be fine," I lied.
She didn't look convinced.
Mira gestured toward the door. "This way."
I followed her out of the dining hall, my pulse pounding in my throat. Every step felt heavier than the last.
When we reached the door to his office, Mira stopped.
"He's waiting," she said softly.
I stared at the door.
"You're stronger than you think," Sky whispered.
I wasn't sure I believed her. I pushed the door open.
Zeviar stood by the window, his back to me. He didn't turn.
"Close the door," he said.
I did.
The silence stretched.
Finally, he spoke.
"We need to talk about what happened in the forest."
My breath hitched.
"And about what you are.”