They met in neutral territory.
A conference room in a hotel near the airport. No windows. One door. Four chairs arranged around a table that had seen better decades. Lyra sat beside her father. Across from them, Kael and his father.
Aldric Shadowbane was older than she'd expected. His hair was gray, his face lined. But his eyes were the same amber as Kael's, and they watched her with a wariness that felt earned.
Cassius spoke first. "Thank you for coming."
"I'm not here for you," Aldric said. "I'm here for my son."
"Then we understand each other."
The tension in the room was palpable. Lyra could feel it pressing against her skin—centuries of mistrust, compressed into a single space. Kael caught her eye across the table. His expression was steady. Present.
"We know what the creature is," Kael said. "We know how it feeds. We know the binding ritual requires three elements: blood from both sides, a vessel, and a name given willingly."
"The altar in the tunnel," Cassius said. "It's the vessel."
"Yes. The symbols on the walls are the invocation. We just need to activate it."
"With blood," Aldric said. "Vampire and wolf."
"And a name."
Silence. Lyra looked at Kael. She'd known, since the night in the name chamber, what he was planning. She'd tried to find another way. She'd failed.
"I'll give my name," Kael said.
Aldric's jaw tightened. "Kael—"
"I've thought about this. The creature feeds on secrets. On shame. On the things we bury. I've buried my mother's death for ten years. I've buried the truth of who I am—a wolf who collects vinyl records and quotes Nick Drake lyrics and doesn't know if he belongs in either world. If I give my name, I give all of it. The secrets. The shame. Everything."
"And if you do," Cassius said quietly, "you'll be forgotten. Your name will join the others on the wall. No one will remember who you were."
"I know."
Lyra's hands were cold. She pressed them flat against the table. "There has to be another way."
"There isn't." Kael's voice was gentle. "We've searched. The ritual requires a willing sacrifice. It's the only thing that works."
"Then I'll do it."
Everyone turned to look at her. Kael's expression shifted—surprise, then something else.
"No," he said.
"I'm a hundred and twenty years old. I've lived longer than most humans ever will. I've watched my mother die. I've watched my father bury his failures. I've spent decades pretending to be something I'm not. If anyone should give their name—"
"No." Kael's voice was firmer now. "Lyra. This isn't a competition."
"I'm not making it one. I'm saying—"
"I know what you're saying. And I'm saying no."
They stared at each other across the table. The two fathers watched in silence.
"Why?" Lyra asked.
"Because you asked me once what I was burying. I told you. And for the first time in ten years, I felt like someone actually saw me. Not the Alpha's son. Not the wolf. Just... me. If I give my name, I want it to mean something. I want it to be for the person who saw me when no one else did."
Lyra's throat was tight. She couldn't speak.
Cassius cleared his throat. "There may be another option."
Everyone looked at him.
"The ritual requires a name given willingly. It doesn't specify whose name. It doesn't specify that the person giving it must die." He paused. "In 1847, I considered giving my name. I researched the ritual extensively. I found references to a variation. A binding that uses the name of the creature itself."
"The creature has a name?" Aldric asked.
"All things have names. Even things that feed on secrets. The problem is finding it."
Kael leaned forward. "How?"
"The creature was bound once before. By vampires and wolves working together. Someone knew its name then. If we can find the original binding—the first one, from before the Blood Wars—we might find the name."
Lyra looked at her father. "You knew this. All this time. And you didn't tell us?"
"I wasn't sure. I'm still not. But if there's a chance to bind the creature without sacrificing either of you, I think we should take it."
Aldric was quiet for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. "The original binding would have been recorded. Both sides would have kept a record. If we combine our archives—"
"We might find it," Cassius finished.
Kael looked at Lyra. She looked back at him.
"Together," she said.
"Together."