“I scared myself.”

He stepped toward me slowly. “Your wolf surfaced for the first time. That power? It’s only the beginning.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“No,” he said. “It’s supposed to prepare you.”

I met his gaze. “What happens next?”

“We train.”

“Why? So I can be your secret weapon?”

His eyes darkened. “So you don’t die.”

---

The words hung between us.

Real. Raw.

He stepped closer.

“You’re not a pawn, Lyra. And I’m not Damian.”

That name was a slap.

I looked away, chest tight. “Then don’t treat me like I belong to anyone.”

“I don’t want to own you,” he said, voice low. “I want to protect you.”

Silence.

My heart pounded.

And for the first time since the rejection, I didn’t feel small.

I felt seen.

Training under Ronan was nothing like I expected.

There were no gentle corrections or patient encouragement. It was sink or drown. And most days, I sank like a stone.

“You're too emotional,” he snapped, blocking my strike with a blade of his own. “You hesitate. That’ll get you killed.”

“I’m not a soldier.”

“Then you’ll die faster.”

I lunged again, fury blinding me. He sidestepped easily and knocked me on my ass—for the fourth time in an hour.

My breathing came in sharp bursts. My muscles screamed. Sweat soaked my shirt. The sigils on my skin glowed faintly beneath the surface, pulsing with every heartbeat.

“I’m trying,” I growled.

“Try harder.”

“Go to hell.”

Ronan smirked. “Been there. Got the title. Now get up.”

I did.

Because despite the bruises, despite his impossible standards, despite everything… I wanted to win. To fight. To never be that girl on the forest floor again, begging the moon not to let her die.

Later, I sat alone under a tree near the training yard, cooling off while the others filed out. Most of them still treated me like a threat—or worse, a time bomb.

But not all.

A girl named Caelin had started sitting with me after drills. She was tough, sharp-eyed, with scars on her knuckles and a soft spot for moonberry tea.

She passed me a bottle of water and flopped onto the grass.

“You know, you don’t have to kill yourself proving something,” she said.

“I’m not.”

She gave me a look.

I sighed. “Okay, I am. But it’s not for them.”

“For Ronan?”

“No,” I snapped too fast.

She smirked. “Mmhmm. Sure.”

I shook my head. “It’s for me. I need to know I’m not just a reject with a flashy glow mark.”

“You’re more than that,” she said seriously. “We all see it. Even him.”

I didn’t answer. Because that part scared me the most.

That night, I woke from another vision.

Same one as before.

Blood. Fire. Ronan on his knees, bleeding. Damian laughing.

Only this time, something new.

A shadowed figure behind them both—female, cloaked in darkness, her eyes glowing red.

Zara.

I sat up, heart racing. Something inside me whispered: Tonight.

I dressed quickly and slipped out.

The packhouse was quiet. Too quiet.

I followed the pull in my chest, half-instinct, hhalf-instinct, half gut-deep certainty. The halls grew colder. The air heavier.

And then I heard it.

Voices.

Low. Urgent. Dangerous.

I crept to the side corridor and ducked behind a column, inching closer.

Zara stood with her back to me, her long black hair braided down her back like a crown. Facing her—Alpha Damian.

My breath hitched.

“I didn’t come all this way for small talk,” Damian said. “I want power. You said you could deliver.”

“I can,” Zara purred. “My brother’s losing grip. The girl’s awakening faster than expected. If we act now, we can cut off his head before she becomes a threat.”

“You’re sure she’s the Moon’s Shadow?”

Zara laughed. “Positive. And that power will be mine soon enough.”

Damian stepped closer. “And Ronan?”

She smiled. “He’ll die. Just like his precious Seraphina.”

I covered my mouth to keep from gasping.

Damian's voice dropped. “And Lyra?”

Zara’s tone sharpened. “Leave her to me. She thinks she’s powerful now? She hasn’t seen what I’ve really unlocked.”

My pulse thundered in my ears.

They were planning an attack. Soon. Maybe now. I had to tell Ronan.

I turned to leave—and knocked a vase off the table behind me.

Shit.

It shattered. Loud.

Zara spun around. “Who’s there?!”

I ran.

Boots slammed into the floor behind me, but I ducked into a hidden stairwell and climbed until my lungs screamed. I didn’t stop until I reached Ronan’s chambers and slammed the door open.

He was shirtless. Of course.

“Lyra—what the hell—”

“Zara and Damian,” I gasped. “They’re planning to kill you. Soon. I heard them. I heard them.”

His expression didn’t change.

That pissed me off.

“Say something!” I shouted.

“I know,” he said calmly.

My brain broke.

“You what?”

He exhaled slowly and poured a drink. “I’ve known for months. I’ve let her think I don’t.”

I blinked. “You let her plot your murder?!”

He turned to me, eyes glowing faintly. “She’s dangerous, but not stupid. The moment I strike first, she’ll activate whatever deal she made with that dark force. I’m waiting for her to make the first fatal move.”

I gaped. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I didn’t want you involved.”

“Well, I am involved! She’s after me too!”

“You think I don’t know that?”

The room trembled.

Oh. He was angry too.

Good.

“Why do you always get to decide what’s worth protecting?” I snapped. “I’m not a fragile girl anymore, Ronan.”

“No,” he said quietly. “You’re not.”

For a second, the air between us pulsed—anger, heat, something deeper. His gaze dropped to the mark on my collarbone. It glowed softly in the moonlight.

He stepped back.

“We attack at dawn.”

I couldn’t sleep after that.

Everything was spiraling.

Zara had murdered Seraphina. She wanted Ronan’s bloodline destroyed. And she wanted my power for herself.

She wasn’t just playing politics.

She was starting a war.

And I was the match.

Before sunrise, I stood on the balcony overlooking the training grounds, watching warriors gather.

Caelin walked up beside me, eyes tired.