For a long moment, no one moved.
The sentinel's final message hung in the frozen air like a curse, the words carved into the snow burning into Lyra's vision:
YOU WERE NEVER MEANT TO LIVE.
The silence was suffocating.
Rylan was the first to rise. His jaw clenched so tightly a muscle twitched along his cheek.
"Get her inside," he said, voice low and lethal. "Now."
Kade bristled. "This is my territory—"
"And your territory has been breached twice in one night," Rylan snapped. "Keep arguing, and she'll be dead before sunrise."
Kade surged forward, but Queen Isolde's hand shot out, halting him.
"Enough." Her voice was thin, trembling beneath the steel. "Rylan is right. Lyra must be moved. Now."
The queen's gaze flicked to Lyra's wrist—where the Moonbound mark glowed faintly beneath her skin, pulsing like a heartbeat.
Not her heartbeat.
Rylan's.
The connection thrummed stronger by the second, responding to fear, fury, grief—whatever storm now churned inside her chest.
Rylan stepped close, his voice softening in a way she hadn't heard before.
"Lyra. Can you stand?"
She nodded, but her knees didn't agree.
He caught her without hesitation, one arm around her back, the other beneath her knees, lifting her effortlessly. Heat surged through her—unwanted, untimely, overwhelming—and she curled into him instinctively, breath shivering against his throat.
His scent—pine, smoke, something dangerously familiar—wrapped around her like a cloak.
Rylan held her as if she were something breakable.
As if he'd kill anyone who tried to take her again.
And she felt it—deep in her bones:
He would.
---
Inside the castle, the storm raged louder, battering against the walls. Guards secured doors, checked halls, sniffed for foreign scents—but Lyra sensed the futility.
Her hunter wasn't in the wind.
He was already inside her past.
Inside her blood.
Rylan carried her up the winding stairwell that led to the upper chambers. Kade and Isolde followed, speaking low and urgent behind them.
"…never seen a sentinel die like that," Isolde murmured.
"It was killed from the inside," Kade said. "Soul-struck. Only one kind of magic does that."
Lyra's grip tightened around Rylan's cloak.
His voice dipped. "Don't listen to them."
"I have to," she whispered. "They're talking about the creature that killed my mother."
He stiffened beneath her.
Rylan slowed at the top of the stairs, leaning his forehead briefly against hers—eyes closed, breath uneven.
He never touched her like this.
Careful. Reverent.
Breaking.
"Lyra," he said quietly, "whatever is hunting you… it won't get you. I swear it."
She almost believed him.
Almost.
But the mark on her wrist burned again—sharp, like a warning.
"Rylan…" Her voice trembled. "My mother hid me for eighteen years and still died. What chance do I have?"
His eyes opened—gold flaring brighter than she'd ever seen, wolf right beneath the surface.
"You're not alone," he said. "Not anymore."
She swallowed hard.
He carried her into a high-vaulted chamber—his chamber, she realized—warm, lit with lanterns, thick furs lining the bed.
He set her down gently, as if she might shatter on contact with the ground.
But she still clung to him.
Rylan froze.
He looked down at her hands fisted in his cloak, at her trembling shoulders, then slowly—very slowly—he touched her cheek, brushing away the tear she didn't realize had fallen.
The bond between them thrummed—hot, alive.
Too alive.
Lyra sucked in a breath, her voice barely a whisper.
"This connection between us… it's getting stronger."
"It's the Moonbound mark," he said, thumb lingering along her jaw. "It reacts to fear. Danger. And…"
He swallowed.
"…other things."
Heat shot through her core.
She hated the timing.
She hated the truth.
"Is that why I feel you?" she whispered. "Even when you're not touching me?"
He held her gaze, voice rasping.
"I feel you too."
Her pulse stumbled.
Their breaths mingled.
The air between them tightened—
A violent knock shattered the moment.
Kade's voice thundered from the hall.
"Rylan! The queen wants a warding circle formed around her chamber."
Rylan tore his gaze from hers, jaw hardening.
He stepped to the door, cracked it open an inch.
"She's resting. Don't disturb her."
"We need to test her magic levels," Kade insisted. "Whatever attacked that sentinel may have left a mark on her."
Rylan growled. "You're not touching her."
"She belongs to this kingdom," Kade said coldly.
Rylan's voice dropped into pure lethal.
"She belongs to no one."
The words struck Lyra like a blow.
But something darker curled with them.
Because she realized—
He said it like he wished it weren't true.
Kade pushed against the door. "You're compromised. The bond has already—"
"I SAID NO."
Rylan slammed the door shut so hard the hinges rattled.
He stood there afterward, hands braced on the wood, shoulders heaving.
Lyra watched him silently.
Finally, he turned toward her, the gold in his eyes dimming into something soft. Troubled.
"Lyra," he murmured. "I need you to tell me exactly what you remembered. About your mother."
Lyra pulled the fur around her shoulders.
Her voice came out thick, fragile.
"It was a fire. I was so small. I'd forgotten most of it, or… blocked it out. But I remember her screaming my name. And I remember—"
She swallowed hard.
"—a wolf with silver eyes watching us."
Rylan's face drained of color.
"What kind of silver?" he asked hoarsely.
"Like moonlight," she whispered. "Cold. Bright. Wrong."
He closed his eyes.
A shudder ran down his body.
"Rylan?" she whispered.
He sat beside her on the bed, hands clasped, shoulders stiff as stone.
"Lyra… wolves with silver eyes aren't natural."
"What do you mean?"
"They're corrupted," he said quietly. "Twisted. Created from Forbidden magic. They kill anything they touch."
Lyra's breath hitched. "Then why didn't it kill me that night?"
Rylan lifted his gaze to hers.
"Because it wasn't there for your mother."
A cold chill slithered down her spine.
"…It was there for me."
He nodded once, pained.
Lyra's stomach twisted.
"So it's been hunting me since I was a child."
"It never stopped," Rylan said. "It just lost your trail. Your mother must've cloaked your scent before she died."
Lyra's eyes burned with tears.
Rylan reached for her—hesitated—then let his hand fall.
She caught it.
This time he froze.
Their fingers intertwined, warm and trembling.
Rylan looked at her as if she were something impossible. Precious. Dangerous.
"Lyra…" His voice was a low, tortured whisper. "I shouldn't want you anywhere near me. I shouldn't even touch you. My curse—this bond—everything about me puts you in danger."
Her fingers tightened around his.
"But you do want me," she said softly.
His breath caught.
The truth was already in his eyes.
She leaned closer, their foreheads almost touching.
"I feel it too."
His hand cupped the back of her neck, breath shaking.
"You are a wildfire, Lyra. If I get too close—I'll burn with you."
"Then burn," she whispered.
He would've kissed her.
Right then, right there.
But the castle shook.
A deep, primal howl ripped through the stone—so ancient and monstrous the torches flickered violently.
Rylan shot to his feet.
Kade bellowed from outside.
"BREACH! SOUTH HALL! ALL GUARDS—"
Rylan grabbed Lyra, pulling her against him.
"Stay close to me," he said, voice shaking. "No matter what happens. Don't run."
"How do you know it's here?"
"Because," he said, eyes glowing full wolf,
"that thing is calling your name."
The howl came again—closer now, echoing through the castle halls.
And Lyra felt it.
A tug in her blood.
A pull older than memory.
Something was coming for her.
Not Kade.
Not the rogues.
Not even the monster from her childhood.
Something worse.