Lyra POV
That night, I climbed to the roof again. The moon hung low, silver and indifferent.
I whispered into the wind, though I didn't know why.
"Who are you, Kaelan Draven? Why can I feel you?"
No answer came. Just the river endless and patient.
But then, for the first time, I dreamed of him.
The dream began in a burning forest. Trees twisted in silver fire, ash falling like snow.
In the center of it all stood a man I had never met.
He wore dark armor that gleamed like obsidian. His eyes were cold and gold, like a predator's. His hands were stained with blood, his expression both ruthless and… broken.
When he turned toward me, the air thickened. My pulse tripped, my breath vanished.
"Lyra," he said. And though his voice was deep and unfamiliar, it sounded like a truth I had always known.
I woke up gasping, sheets tangled around me, my heart racing to the rhythm of two.
From that night on, everything changed.
The woods felt smaller. The air heavier. My reflection in the mirror no longer looked like a child hiding from her past it looked like a weapon waiting to be used.
And though I didn't understand it yet, I knew this: fate had started to move again.
And it was moving toward him.
Kaelan's POV
The first time I spilled blood as Alpha, it wasn't for glory.
It was for silence.
The battlefield stretched across the northern ridge a wasteland of smoke and half-buried corpses. The rogues had been smart, striking during the thaw when our borders were weak. But they'd underestimated the Dravens. They always did.
I stood among the dead as dawn crept over the horizon, turning the blood on my hands to molten gold. My wolves howled behind me, a chorus of victory and mourning.
"Alpha," my Beta, Darius, called out. "The last of them are running west. Your command?"
I didn't look at him. My eyes followed the thin trail of smoke rising from what had once been their camp.
"No survivors," I said quietly.
Darius hesitated. He'd been with me since childhood, my best friend but, now he works for me. But he obeyed.
The Ironclaw Pack didn't leave loose ends. That was how we survived the fall of our allies the Hales, the once-great Silverfangs.
The name drifted through my mind like a ghost. Theo Hale.
I hadn't spoken it aloud in years. He'd been my brother in all but blood. We trained together, bled together, dreamed of uniting the northern packs.
And then one night, his family vanished. Murdered. Burned. Erased.
I never found the bodies myself just whispers, fragments of betrayal. The council claimed it was rogues. But I'd fought rogues. They didn't kill with that kind of precision.
I'd always known there was more to it. And some part of me the restless part that refused to sleep knew that the ghosts of Silverfang weren't done with me.
Weeks later, I still dreamed of fire.
But lately, it wasn't the Hales' death I saw. It was her.
Always the same a girl standing at the edge of the burning woods, her hair like moonlight caught in wind. I could never see her face clearly, but her eyes haunted me long after waking.
Every time I drew closer, she'd whisper something I couldn't quite hear. Then the forest would collapse into ash.
I'd wake with my claws half-extended, my chest aching like I'd been running for miles.
"Dreaming again?" Darius asked one morning, tossing me a blade during training.
"Nightmares," I muttered.
He smirked. "You call everything nightmares. Maybe it's the goddess showing you your mate."
I froze mid-strike.
"Don't start," I warned.
But Darius only laughed, brushing dust from his arm.
"You're twenty-two, Kael. You've ignored three mating gatherings. The elders are growing impatient."
"I'm not choosing someone to appease them."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
I didn't answer. How could I explain something I didn't understand myself?
The bond that invisible thread they spoke of I could feel it sometimes. A tug in the quiet hours. A scent that didn't exist. A pulse that wasn't mine.
It terrified me more than any enemy ever had.
That evening, I stood on the balcony of Ironclaw Fortress, overlooking the vast stretch of pine forest that bordered the south.
The wind carried faint scents rain, earth, and something else… faintly sweet, like wild jasmine. It came and went so quickly I almost thought I imagined it.
But my wolf didn't. It stirred beneath my skin, restless and alert.
Mine.
The word echoed like thunder through my bones. I gripped the railing, trying to steady my breathing.
"Show me, then," I whispered into the night. "If you're out there… show me."
And for the briefest moment, I could have sworn I heard a heartbeat that wasn't mine steady, defiant, far away.
The next morning, a scout arrived at the gates.
"Alpha," he said, dropping to one knee. "A message from the southern border. The Riverbend Pack is requesting a diplomatic audience."
"Riverbend?" Darius frowned. "They've been neutral for years."
I turned the letter in my hand, eyes narrowing. Riverbend. The name sparked something deep in my chest a pull, sharp and sudden.
"Prepare the riders," I said finally. "We leave at dawn."
"Do you think it's a trap?" Darius asked.
I didn't answer him. I didn't know.
All I knew was that whatever waited for me in the south… had already begun calling my name.