The wolves in red came to kill.
Lyra barely had time to react before Celine lunged.
Magic pulsed in the air—sharp, electric, laced with something darker. Lyra twisted to the side, narrowly avoiding the arc of a dagger that whistled past her ear and embedded itself into the wooden pillar behind her with a heavy thunk.
Celine smirked. "Still fast. But let's see how well you bleed now."
Kade moved between them in a blur, teeth bared, growling, "Stand down, Celine."
She laughed. "Funny. You rejected her, remember? She's nothing. Forsaken. Traitor."
"She's not your target," he growled, and for a heartbeat, Lyra swore there was something protective in his stance. Something possessive.
Celine's expression twisted. "She's always been my target."
The wolves in red armor surged into the war room like a wave of blood, weapons drawn, eyes gleaming with bloodlust. Lyra's instincts screamed. She spun and raised her hands—the magic answered, golden sparks crackling across her skin.
Ronan had taught her to harness it. To fear it, but use it.
Now she let it loose.
The room exploded in light. A blast of raw energy burst from her palms, flinging half the guards backward into the walls with bone-cracking force. Two of them didn't get up.
Celine snarled. "Witch."
Kade turned to Lyra, eyes wide. "What are you?"
She didn't answer. She didn't have time.
One of the wolves launched at her. She ducked low, swept his legs from under him, and drove her fist into his gut. Her body moved like it had a mind of its own—wolf, woman, and something more.
She wasn't the broken girl he'd left behind.
Celine's laughter rang out above the chaos, wild and gleeful. "Let's see how far that little glow gets you."
Lyra dodged a thrown blade, but not fast enough. It grazed her shoulder, slicing through the leather. Blood welled up, hot and slick.
The scent of it turned the wolves rabid.
Kade shifted.
Bones cracked, fur exploded, and his massive black wolf snarled as he launched into the fight. He tackled two wolves with terrifying speed, tearing through armor and flesh. The sight shook Lyra.
She had forgotten how dangerous he was.
But she wasn't the girl who needed saving anymore.
She met Celine head-on.
The she-wolf charged, her claws glowing with venom-laced runes. Lyra met her halfway, their magic colliding midair in a crack of thunder. The force sent both of them sliding backward. Celine recovered first, flashing a wicked grin.
"You think you're strong now? You don't know what I've done, what I've sacrificed to take your place."
"I didn't give it up. It was stolen."
"Same thing in the end," Celine spat. "And you left it wide open."
Their magic clashed again—gold against blood-red—and the room trembled.
Then something in Lyra shifted.
It wasn't her wolf. It wasn't even her magic. It was deeper—older.
The air shimmered around her. The symbols etched into the walls of the war room began to glow faintly. Ancient markings. Moonborne.
Lyra gasped. Her power surged and flared, roaring up through her like a tidal wave.
Celine hesitated, sensing the change. "What did you do?"
"I don't know," Lyra said through gritted teeth.
But the voice inside her whispered: Now they see you.
The ground beneath them cracked. The walls moaned. Somewhere outside, wolves howled—not in triumph. In fear.
Kade shifted back mid-fight, staggering slightly as the building trembled.
He stared at Lyra.
"You awakened something," he breathed.
Then everything stopped.
The door burst open.
And he walked in.
The last person she expected.
"Enough," said a cold, measured voice.
Alpha Caelan of the Eclipse Pack.
The High Council's emissary. Enforcer of ancient laws.
And the most feared wolf on the continent.
He was tall, brutal, and beautiful in a savage way—his silver eyes glowing like twin moons. Cloaked in dark leather, he moved with the grace of death incarnate.
The red-armored wolves froze.
Celine paled. "You're not supposed to be here—"
"I go where I am needed," Caelan said coolly. "And it appears someone violated sacred accords by attacking a Moonborne heir."
Lyra's breath caught. "What?"
Kade turned toward him. "That's not confirmed."
Caelan's gaze didn't waver. "It is now."
He stepped toward Lyra, staring at her like she was a puzzle he already knew how to solve.
"The prophecy was true," he murmured. "The Moonborne have returned."
Lyra took a step back, heart pounding. "I don't understand."
"You will," he said. "But not here."
Celine launched herself at him in a blur.
He barely moved. One flick of his wrist and she was flat on the floor, choking on air she couldn't breathe.
"Enough games," Caelan said. "This one belongs to me now."
Kade growled low. "She's not yours."
Caelan's eyes flashed. "You rejected her. You lost the right to speak for her the night you broke the bond."
The room fell silent.
Kade's jaw clenched.
And Lyra stood in the center of it all, magic still crackling beneath her skin, heart roaring in her ears, unsure whether to run, scream, or fight.
"I don't belong to anyone," she said.
But no one listened.
Because outside the war room… another sound had begun.
Drums.
Dozens of them.
War drums.
Ronan appeared at the window, panting. "Lyra—something's coming."
"Who?"
He shook his head. "Not who. What."
And then the sky outside turned crimson.