LYRA

Night settled over the pack like a held breath.

Quiet.

Too quiet.

The kind of silence that didn’t soothe—it warned.

I stood by the window in my room, watching the last trace of light disappear beyond the tree line. My reflection stared back at me, faint in the glass. Same face. Same eyes.

But something had shifted.

I could feel it.

Under my skin.

In my bones.

In the bond.

It hadn’t calmed since the conversation with Lucian. If anything, it had sharpened—like it was bracing for ...