Lyra’s POV

I froze.

The sound behind me was getting closer; at first, I thought it was a twig or a thunderclap, but I was wrong.

Every instinct in me flared to life. My hand tightened over my belly as my heart pounded against my ribs like a drum of war.

Another crunch.

I turned slowly; breath caught in my throat. The trees loomed dark and tall, their shadows long and strange under the moonlight. Nothing moved. But I knew something or someone was there.

My wolf stirred beneath my skin. Not strong, not dominant like Draven’s, but she was fiercely protective. She growled low, a warning, even as exhaustion pulled at my limbs.

Then I saw him.

Or rather, a blur of motion. Fast. Big. Too fast to be human.

A rogue?

I fell back, my legs slipping on the wet grass. The figure appeared from the shadows; it was a massive, red-eyed, hungry wolf.

Its growl split the silence, sharp and desperate. I knew that sound. It wasn’t just hunger it was madness.

My legs wouldn’t move fast enough. My wolf was too weak to shift. I held my belly, bracing for the pain, the end, the...

Suddenly, out of the blue another wolf slammed right into the rogue with brutal force

A fight broke out—teeth, claws, snarls, a blur of limbs. The forest was lit with flashes of fur under moonlight.

I tried to steady my breathing and calm my nerves. As if it was almost over as it quickly started.

The rogue lay motionless.

And the stranger stood over him, chest heaving, blood dripping from his muzzle. A powerful wolf. Bigger than any I’d seen except one.

He turned toward me.

I couldn't see his face in the shadows, only his silhouette. I should have been scared, but I wasn't. The silhouette looks oddly familiar. He walked towards me; I was tensed that I could hear my own heartbeat

But then, he stopped.

He stared at me with his fiery eyes. Then in an instant he was gone.

"Thanks..." I whispered, but he was nowhere to be found.

The forest swallowed him. I stood there stunned at what just happened. why did he save me? who was he? but i had no answers to these questions.

Why he’d helped me. How he’d found me.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Instead, I turned, still trembling, and kept walking.

I don’t remember how I reached the edge of the city. My vision blurred more with every step. The trees thinned, and distant lights blinked at the horizon.

By the time I saw the narrow, gated road with a small wooden sign that said Wolhurst my legs buckled. I collapsed.

Someone must have saved me because when I opened my eyes again I wasn't in the forest; I was indoors. The room smelled like oud wood, herbs, and strawberries.

Warmth pressed around me like a thick blanket.

A woman hovered nearby. brown curls framed her delicate face, and her eyes were soft and kind.

"Thank goodness, you are awake," she muttered

“Where...” My throat was raw. “Where am I?”

“Wolhurst,” she replied, dabbing my forehead. forehead. "A city full of secrets where everyone minds their business. as long as you don't bring trouble with you, you are safe."

I blinked at her.

"Uh... yeah..." I stuttered

She studied me. “You’re pregnant.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. My face said it all.

“What’s your name?”

I hesitated.

“Lyra” didn’t feel safe anymore. Lyra was the girl who let herself be ruined by an Alpha. Lyra was the girl who believed in fairy tales. That name had been burned with betrayal.

“Lina,” I said finally. “My name is Lina.”

The woman nodded slowly. “Well, Lina… you’ll need to earn your keep. Do you have any skills?”

“I can sew,” I said quietly.

Her lips twitched. “Good. We always need more hands at the tailor’s.”

The days blurred into one another. I learned to keep my head down. To not ask questions. I worked in the back of the tailor shop, mending torn clothes and stitching fabric by candlelight. My fingers bled sometimes, but I didn’t complain. It was quiet, and no one cared who I had been before.

The people of Wolhurst didn’t ask. They didn’t stare. It was a town of secrets. Everyone was hiding something.

I became Lina, the quiet seamstress with the faraway eyes. And slowly, I forgot what my voice sounded like when it laughed.

My belly grew.

So did the ache in my chest.

Every kick reminded me of him. Every tiny flutter beneath my ribs carried echoes of cedar and smoke.

I dreamt of his voice against my skin, some nights, calling me and drawing me in. I'd wake up with tear-stained cheeks.

But I never let myself miss him. Not really.

I missed who I thought he was. The lie he wrapped around me like silk.

And I missed the girl I used to be more than anything else.

It was nearly winter when it happened.

The nights were longer. The wind cruel. I had just finished patching an old jacket and was crawling into my cot when I heard it.

A scrape.

Then another.

Something clawed against my front door.

My heart leaped. I sat up slowly, not breathing.

Then silence.

I walked gently to the window covered in snow and peeped.

Nothing.

I waited. Counted to ten.

Then I opened the door.

I didnt see it at first, but when I looked down I was shocked

There, resting on the worn wooden doorstep, was a single black rose.

And beneath it, faint in the dirt, were claw marks.

Three of them.

Deep. Fresh.

I stared at them, my heart thudding, the cold forgotten.

The rose was unlike any I’d seen. Midnight black, almost velvet in texture, its petals perfect. Too perfect.

I remember seeing this type of rose at the Blackthorn secret chambers at the palace .

I clutched my belly.

My past had found me.