MasukLira Fenwick has spent her life hidden away in the Duskborne Pack, protected by her overbearing father and kept in the dark about her true origins. Born under a rare lunar eclipse, whispers of her birth carry an ancient prophecy—one her father has kept buried. The pack members are protective, yet distant, leaving Lira to feel like an outsider in her own home. When the Grimhowl Pack, the largest and most powerful in the country, attacks Duskborne, Lira is captured and brought to the northern territories. There, Alpha Caius Vexmoor reveals a shocking truth: Lira is his destined mate, a bond that could either unite their warring packs or destroy them both. But Lira’s powers, long dormant and unknown, are tied to an ancient prophecy—one that a hidden enemy seeks to unleash. As Lira grapples with the weight of her newfound destiny, she must decide whether to embrace her fate or risk everything to protect the ones she loves. But the deeper she digs, the more she realizes that the truth may be more dangerous than anyone ever imagined. And the shadows are closing in.
Lihat lebih banyakLIRAThe first thing I saw when we crested the ridge was the silver banners of Grinhowl fluttering in the wind.We had made it home.Trio Pack’s stronghold had grown in our absence. What used to be a hidden base—a quiet alliance of three or more—had become a bastion of hope for dozens of scattered packs. The scent of too many wolves in one place clung to the air: sweat, blood, smoke, silver. Refugees moved between tents and half-built barricades. Children ran barefoot past soldiers sharpening blades.The war was no longer coming.It had already arrived.And they had been fighting it without us.Kora raised her hand as we approached the guarded slope.“Trio patrol,” she called out. “We’ve returned.”The sentries emerged in seconds, shifting from half-wolf to human with eerie synchronicity. One of them dropped his weapon when he saw me.“By the gods… is that—?”“It’s her,” said another. “It’s the Eclipse-born.”And just like that, the whispers began.We dismounted at the gates, and they
CAIUSThe morning after the Veil always feels too bright.Even this one.We camped on the ridge just beyond its reach—bone-tired, grief-stricken, and not entirely convinced the nightmare was behind us. The Ashen Veil still hung at our backs like a second shadow, thin and curling across the hills, refusing to vanish completely.But this morning… it hadn’t followed.That meant something.A breeze stirred the dying embers of our fire. The scent of pine and cold earth replaced the Veil’s burnt stench. I sat against a boulder, the dagger wrapped in blood-inked cloth beside me. It pulsed like a second heartbeat.Lira stood some distance away, her cloak pulled tightly around her. She hadn’t said much since Daren’s sacrifice. Neither had I.There weren’t words for that kind of loss.The others moved quietly, if at all. Dain sat cross-legged, meditating or praying—maybe both. Morgana traced protective runes into the dirt around the perimeter, her lips moving silently. The remaining warriors—Al
CAIUSThe path to the third gate felt heavier than any that had come before.Not because of magic. Not because of mist. But because we knew what waited.There was no illusion this time. No test of mind or power. The Veil had taken its games and replaced them with something ancient and cruel.A price.And the toll was life.The Veil thinned around us as we walked, as if retreating to make way for something worse. Trees gave way to cracked earth. The fog settled into still sheets across the ground, refusing to rise. The sky above looked bruised, stained with deep purples and reds, as if the realm itself were bleeding.Those who remained wore it on their faces—haunted, gaunt, silent. No one spoke of the Hollow Mirror. Some wouldn’t even look at each other. Not after the truths they'd seen, or the lies they'd nearly believed.Lira walked ahead of me, her steps steady, her jaw set.She hadn’t faltered once since we left the second gate.I had.The Hollow had broken something in me. I wasn’
LIRAWe had the dagger.It pulsed at Caius’s side like a living thing—dark steel veined with molten red, forged to wound something far worse than any creature we’d faced so far. He hadn't used it yet, not truly. Even carrying it seemed to strain him.But that didn’t matter.The mission was clear: get the dagger, get out of the Ashen Veil, and bring it to the battlefield before the Dark Lord rose in full.Only one problem.The Veil wasn’t going to let us leave.The temple crumbled behind us in slow silence. Its stones, once glowing, faded into dull gray. Morgana sealed the altar before we left, just in case something worse crawled out of it.We’d hoped it would be as simple as returning the way we came.It wasn’t.The mist didn’t clear. The ground didn’t still. And the fog ahead of us thickened, curling upward like smoke from a dying god’s lungs.Dain stood at the edge of the ruined threshold, blade in one hand, a blood-soaked charm in the other. He stared into the mist like it might bi


















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