The entire clan reacts to the impossible awakening of Lyra's Lunar Mark. An ancient name resurfaces, and the arrival of an unknown royal force approaches the clan.
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And somewhere beyond the doors of Moon Hall, hundreds of wolves began to howl in response.
Lyra stood motionless.
The sound rolled through the mountain like thunder beneath the earth.
One howl answered another.
Then another.
Soon the entire valley seemed to be filled with wolves.
But there were no wolves in the valley.
Not wild ones.
Not anymore.
The Arden territory had been protected for generations by stone walls and patrols. Every pack in the northern mountains knew better than to cross its borders without permission.
Yet something was out there.
Something powerful enough to make every wolf within hearing distance answer.
Lyra looked toward the great wooden doors.
Her skin prickled.
"Open them."
No one moved.
She turned.
"Open the doors."
Elder Garrick's face had gone rigid.
"Nobody leaves this hall."
Lyra stared at him.
"I didn't ask to leave."
The old elder tightened his grip on his staff.
"You don't understand what is happening."
"No."
Lyra looked down at her hands.
Silver light still moved beneath her skin.
"Apparently, none of you want to explain."
A murmur passed through the crowd.
Kael finally stepped forward.
"Everyone stay calm."
A warrior near the western pillar laughed nervously.
"Calm?"
He pointed at the wolves kneeling around Lyra.
"Half the pack is on the floor."
Kael's gaze swept over them.
"Get up."
None of them moved.
Kael's voice hardened.
"I said get up."
The nearest warrior tried.
His hands trembled.
He pushed himself halfway upright.
Then his knees buckled again.
He hit the floor.
A ripple of fear went through the hall.
Kael stared at him.
Lyra watched his expression change.
He was an Alpha.
He was accustomed to being obeyed.
But his command had failed.
Not because the warrior wanted to disobey.
Because something inside him wouldn't let him.
Something in Lyra.
Her stomach twisted.
"I didn't tell them to kneel."
Elder Mira finally found her voice.
"I know."
Lyra turned toward her.
"Then why are they?"
Mira's lips parted.
Nothing came out.
"Tell me."
Still nothing.
Lyra took one step toward her.
Mira recoiled.
That hurt more than Lyra expected.
"You knew my mother."
The old woman's eyes widened.
Kael looked sharply at Mira.
"Lyra."
She ignored him.
"You knew her, didn't you?"
Mira looked at the floor.
Lyra's voice became quieter.
"Everyone told me she was ordinary."
No answer.
"Everyone told me she died because she was sick."
Mira's eyes filled with something Lyra couldn't identify.
Guilt.
Fear.
Grief.
Perhaps all three.
"She wasn't sick," Mira whispered.
The room seemed to shrink.
Lyra stopped breathing.
"What?"
Mira looked up.
"Your mother was—"
A violent impact shook the doors.
Everyone jumped.
The massive wooden panels rattled inside their iron frames.
A second impact followed.
Boom.
Dust drifted from the ceiling.
The wolves on the floor growled.
Kael turned toward the doors.
"Guards."
The warriors nearest the entrance scrambled into position.
"Who is outside?"
No one answered.
A third impact came.
This time, the doors didn't shake.
They opened.
Slowly.
Not because someone pushed them.
Because the guards standing on the other side stepped backward.
A cold mountain wind rushed into the hall.
It extinguished the last few candles.
For a moment, there was nothing but darkness.
Then footsteps sounded outside.
One.
Two.
Three.
Measured.
Unhurried.
The sound of boots against stone.
Lyra's heart began to beat faster.
A line of black-clad warriors appeared in the doorway.
Their armor was unlike anything worn by the Arden wolves.
Black metal.
Silver markings.
Long coats falling behind their knees.
At the center of each chest was the emblem of a crescent moon pierced by a vertical blade.
Royal Lycan insignia.
Every wolf in the hall knew it.
A murmur spread through the crowd.
"The royal guard."
"Why are they here?"
"Who called them?"
"No one called them."
The guards separated.
Someone walked between them.
Lyra had never seen him before.
Yet the moment he entered, Nyx reacted.
Her wolf slammed against the inside of Lyra's mind.
Not with fear.
Recognition.
Mine.
Lyra's breath caught.
No.
The word hadn't come from her.
It had come from Nyx.
Mine.
The man stopped several paces inside the hall.
He was tall.
Not merely tall in the way Kael was.
There was something unnerving about his height, his stillness, the complete absence of wasted movement.
His black coat was fastened at the throat with a silver clasp.
Dark hair fell across his forehead.
His face was severe, almost beautiful in a way that made the word feel dangerous rather than flattering.
A faint scar cut through his left eyebrow.
His eyes were the strangest part.
Silver.
Not blue-gray.
Not pale.
Silver.
They swept over the room.
The warriors.
The elders.
Kael.
Selene.
Then they stopped on Lyra.
The world seemed to go quiet.
Lyra couldn't move.
Neither could he.
Something passed between them.
Not a spark.
Not warmth.
Something deeper.
A pull beneath the skin.
Her wolf pressed against her consciousness again.
Mine.
The man's jaw tightened.
His nostrils flared slightly.
He looked almost angry.
Lyra didn't understand why.
The stranger took one step forward.
Every wolf in the hall lowered their head.
Every wolf except Lyra.
She remained standing.
Not because she wanted to challenge him.
Her body simply refused to bow.
The stranger noticed.
His eyes narrowed.
An elder stumbled forward.
"Your Majesty."
Lyra's stomach dropped.
The stranger was not merely a royal soldier.
He was—
"King Draven."
The name moved through the hall like a whispered prayer.
Or a warning.
Draven Blackthorn.
The Lycan King.
The most feared ruler in the northern territories.
The man whose name parents used to frighten reckless children.
The man who had crushed three rebellions without raising an army.
The man whose wolf had supposedly torn through an entire battalion during the Border War.
Lyra had heard stories.
She had never believed half of them.
Now, standing ten steps away from him, she suddenly believed every one.
Draven didn't acknowledge the elder.
He didn't look at Kael.
He didn't look at Selene.
His attention remained fixed on Lyra.
The silver in his eyes seemed to sharpen.
Then he spoke.
His voice was low.
Controlled.
"Who is she?"
No one answered.
Draven's gaze remained on Lyra.
"I asked a question."
Elder Garrick swallowed.
"Her name is Lyra Vale."
Something changed in Draven's face.
So slight that Lyra might have imagined it.
His shoulders stiffened.
His wolf reacted.
The air seemed to grow heavier.
Draven repeated her name.
"Lyra Vale."
The way he said it made her skin prickle.
Not as though he had heard it before.
As though he had been searching for it.
Lyra frowned.
"Why are you here?"
Several wolves looked horrified.
Someone whispered, "She spoke to him."
Draven's eyes remained on hers.
"Because I felt something."
"What?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he looked at the silver light moving beneath her skin.
Then at the wolves kneeling around her.
Then back to her face.
"Where is her family?"
Elder Garrick hesitated.
"Your Majesty, perhaps we should discuss—"
"Where."
The single word carried enough force to make the elder flinch.
"Her father is dead," Garrick said.
"And her mother?"
Silence.
Draven's gaze hardened.
"Where is her mother?"
Lyra looked at Elder Mira.
The old woman's face had gone pale.
"She died when I was young," Lyra said.
Draven's eyes moved toward her.
"That's what they told you?"
Lyra frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Before he could answer, Kael stepped forward.
"Your Majesty."
Draven finally looked at him.
Kael bowed.
"Alpha Kael Arden."
"I know who you are."
The words were ice.
Kael straightened.
"We welcome you to our territory."
"You shouldn't."
The hall went silent again.
Kael's face tightened.
"May I ask why you've come?"
Draven looked past him.
Straight at Lyra.
"I came because something crossed my border."
Kael frowned.
"What?"
Draven's eyes remained on Lyra.
"A presence."
His voice dropped.
"Something I haven't felt since I was a child."
Lyra's pulse quickened.
Draven took another step.
Her wolf rose inside her.
Mine.
Lyra clenched her hands.
"Stop."
Draven stopped.
The command had left her mouth before she could think.
Several elders gasped.
Kael stared at her.
Draven's expression became unreadable.
For the first time since entering the hall, he looked genuinely surprised.
Lyra's heart hammered.
She hadn't meant to command him.
She didn't even know she could.
Draven studied her for several long seconds.
Then his gaze dropped to the faint silver light beneath her collarbone.
His voice was barely more than a murmur.
"Impossible."
Lyra swallowed.
"What?"
Draven looked at the broken mate pendant still lying in Kael's hand.
Then at Lyra.
Then at the kneeling wolves.
His face hardened.
He turned toward Kael.
"Who broke her?"
Kael froze.
No one spoke.
Draven's voice became colder.
"I asked who broke her."
Kael slowly raised his chin.
"I did."
Draven looked at him.
The temperature in the room seemed to fall.
For several seconds, neither man moved.
Then Draven took one step toward Kael.
And every wolf in Moon Hall instinctively moved out of his way.
Aksara