CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 4

Nyra’s POV

The moment I step into the Ironfang Pack, I know one thing immediately: I do not belong here. Every pair of eyes follows me, sharp and cold, filled with judgment that crawls along my spine like ice. I can feel their hatred, palpable, almost alive, whispering through the air. Someone mutters, “Rogue,” and though I have heard worse, it feels different here. Here, I am not invisible. Here, I am not a shadow to pass through unnoticed. Here, I am a threat. The realization twists something inside me, sharp and bitter, coiling in my chest with a mix of fear and defiance.

Kael steps beside me, his presence a solid weight against the uncertainty that claws at me. “Stay close,” he murmurs quietly, almost a suggestion and almost a command all at once. I glance at him, bristling, and reply, “I do not need protection.”

He turns to me, his gaze steady and unreadable. “You do here,” he says simply, and I feel the truth in it strike deeper than I expect. I look at him again, searching for some sign, some flicker that might explain what he means. “For me?” I ask softly, almost hesitantly. He does not answer. That silence falls between us, heavy and suffocating, pressing against my chest so hard I can barely breathe. I start to hate it, because it is the kind of silence that carries power and patience, the kind that can make you feel small, insignificant, even before a single word is spoken.

The hall stretches before us, massive and intimidating, every detail polished to perfection, every corner echoing authority. We enter, and immediately, everything stops. Every voice, every movement, every breath in the room freezes, as if the world itself has paused to witness my arrival. I feel every eye piercing me, weighing me, testing me. The pressure is electric, almost unbearable.

Then a voice cuts through the stillness, sharp and deliberate: “To her.” A woman steps forward, tall and poised, her beauty flawless and dangerous. Her gaze slices through me like a blade, cold, assessing, and perfectly lethal. She speaks, voice smooth yet commanding, “Explain this.”

Kael’s voice follows, calm, steady, resolute. “She is my Luna.”

The room erupts around us. Voices clash and scream like storms, crashing over one another in outrage. “You cannot be serious!” “She is a rogue!” “This is an insult!” The woman tilts her head slightly, lips curling into a subtle, terrifying smile. “Or a mistake,” she says, every word laced with challenge.

I meet her gaze without flinching, without faltering, feeling a thrill of danger coursing through me, setting my blood alight. A fierce energy hums in my chest, equal parts fear and exhilaration. I say simply, “Try me.”

Her smile widens, deadly and confident, sharp as a knife. “Oh, I will,” she replies, and I know, in that instant, that nothing will ever be easy again. I have stepped into a world of power, challenge, and danger that will not release me. The weight of it presses against me, heavy, inescapable, but beneath it, something fierce burns. Defiance, determination, fire. I am Nyra, and no one, no threat, no force in this room or beyond, will make me back down. I will survive. I will fight. And I will not be broken.