LIRA
He wasn’t supposed to be real. The stories didn’t do him justice. Caius Vexmoor stood like a shadow carved from moonlight—broad-shouldered, cloaked in black leathers, and dangerous. His presence was a storm wrapped in silence, and his silver eyes… gods, those eyes. Like frost over steel. Cold. Sharp. Unrelenting. But it wasn’t the strength in his stance or the silent power he commanded that shook me. It was the way he looked at me. Like I already belonged to him. “Step back, Lira,” Tobias warned, his voice tight with authority, his stance rigid. I could feel the tension thrumming through him, the way his energy shifted as he stood between us like a wall ready to collapse. But Caius didn’t stop. He took a single step forward—and that one step changed everything. “I won’t repeat myself, Tobias,” he said, voice low, carved from ice and stone. “She comes with me.” My heart kicked hard against my ribs, as if it recognized something my mind couldn’t yet grasp. I tasted iron at the back of my tongue, my breath catching. “Why?” I asked, surprised by the steadiness of my voice. Inside, I was trembling like a leaf caught in a gale. “Why me?” He looked at me then—really looked. Not the surface glance that measured threats or weaknesses, but the kind that saw through bone and blood and memory. And for the briefest second, something flickered behind his gaze. Doubt. Sadness. Longing. I couldn’t be sure. “You’ll understand soon enough,” Caius murmured. It wasn’t a threat. Not a promise. Just a truth waiting to unravel. But that didn’t make it any less terrifying. There was a moment—so sharp, so fragile—where I thought I might be able to move, to speak again. But I didn’t get the chance. Because everything shattered. The Duskborne warriors surged forward like lightning unbound, moving with a terrifying unity. Cloaks flared, blades flashed, and the air exploded with the metallic tang of magic and violence. Tobias shifted beside me—bones snapping, fur erupting, his body twisting into the powerful wolf I’d always known. His silver-gray form hit the earth with a growl that cracked through the night like thunder. He didn’t hesitate. His instincts overtook him. But neither did Caius. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t raise a hand. He didn’t even blink. Because his warriors were already there. They emerged from the shadows of the trees like wraiths—silent, calculating, lethal. They moved through the chaos with precision only trained killers possessed. No war cries. No wasted movement. Only blood and smoke and silence. Tobias lunged, jaws bared, aiming straight for Caius’s throat. But Caius was gone. One blink—and he was right in front of me. His hand closed around my arm—not rough, but final. His grip was the kind you couldn’t break, not even with all the strength in the world. Not forceful, yet immovable. Like I was already claimed. Like I’d always been his. “Let me go!” I thrashed, panic crashing over me like a wave. My blood roared in my ears, my vision pulsing at the edges. My fingers clawed at his arm, but it was like trying to tear apart a mountain. I couldn’t breathe. And yet… His touch wasn’t magic. It wasn’t brute strength. But it felt different. Familiar. Terrifying. Like I belonged in his arms. Like I had always belonged. Bond. The word whispered through me, unspoken, undeniable. A truth etched into my marrow. Caius looked down at me, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “I’m not here to hurt you.” “You already are,” I hissed. And still, he didn’t let go. Behind us, growls tore through the air. Claws raked across earth and skin, wolves collided with warriors in an explosion of fury—but none of it mattered. Not in this moment. Not when the world had narrowed to his hand on my arm and the sound of my heart breaking. “You don’t belong here,” he said softly, as if the words themselves hurt. “And I won’t leave without you.” “Even if I say no?” I whispered. His jaw flexed. He didn’t answer. Because we both knew—some choices weren’t ours to make. Some were written into blood. Into bone. Into fate. I tried to ignore the way my skin burned beneath his touch, the way something ancient stirred inside me, like a memory that didn’t belong to me—or maybe one that had been taken. “Please,” I said, but I didn’t even know what I was pleading for. For him to let go. For him to stay. For the bond to be a lie. His eyes softened, just for a breath. “I didn’t choose this either, Lira.” And that—that shattered me more than anything. Because I’d expected hunger. Command. Possession. Not regret. Not pain. The battlefield raged around us. I could hear Tobias’s snarl, hear the thuds of bodies colliding, the sharp clang of blades meeting blades. But all I could feel was the bond. Pulling. Tearing. Binding. My knees buckled, but Caius caught me. His arms wrapped around me, strong, certain. And for a fleeting, dangerous second—I didn’t want him to let go. I hated myself for it. “I don’t know you,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “But I know you,” he said. “I’ve seen you. In dreams. In visions. And I swore, the moment I found you, I would never let you fall.” He leaned in, so close I could feel his breath ghost across my cheek. “You don’t remember yet. But you will.” And just like that, the world tilted. A flare of heat surged through me, sharp and golden, blooming beneath my ribs. Not pain. Not fear. Recognition. A name—his name—echoed through something deeper than thought. And I realized this wasn’t the beginning. It was the return. The return of something old. Ancient. Ours. And as I stared into those silver eyes, I knew the truth would destroy me. Or set me free.LIRAThe first thing I became aware of was the steady, rhythmic pounding of hooves against the earth. Each beat sent a jolt through my body, waking me from the hazy fog that still clung to my mind. The sound was distant but oddly comforting, a steady cadence that kept me anchored.Then came the warmth—a thick, all-encompassing heat. It radiated from the broad chest pressed against my back, from the muscled arm wrapped securely around my waist. For a moment, I thought it might be a dream, something comforting to distract me from the nightmare I was sure I had just escaped. But the heat was real. Too real.And then… the scent.It was undeniable. Deep, rich woodsmoke and the sharp bite of frost, mingling together in a way that twisted something inside me. It was him. The scent I had come to dread. The scent of the one who had torn apart everything I thought I knew.Caius.I sucked in a sharp breath, the air tasting thick and cold in my lungs. My eyes fluttered open, blinking rapidly as I
CAIUSThe moment Lira went still in my arms, Fenrir stirred within me, his presence a low hum in the back of my mind.She’s afraid, Fenrir growled, his voice thick with both concern and irritation.I didn’t need him to tell me that. I could feel the tension in her body, the way her heart pounded against her ribs, fast and frantic. Her fear was raw, palpable. It almost bled into me, a reminder of how fragile this situation truly was.I sighed and loosened my grip just slightly. We’ll be stopping soon, I thought to him, trying to offer some semblance of reassurance—though I knew it would do little to calm her.Her silence was maddening. She said nothing, but I could feel her emotions swirling. Discomfort. Anger. Frustration. Every breath she took seemed to carry a weight of resistance. It was strange, this closeness. The bond between us, unspoken but undeniable, tugged at me in ways I hadn’t anticipated. A pull, fierce and unrelenting. And yet... something was wrong.Something isn’t righ
LIRAThe cabin was small, but sturdy. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows along the wooden walls.There was only one door.And Caius stood in front of it.“You’re not going to keep me locked up forever,” I said, crossing my arms.He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. “You’re not a prisoner.”I snorted. “Right. Because abducting someone and dragging them to the middle of nowhere definitely doesn’t count as imprisonment.”Caius sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You wouldn’t be safe in Duskborne.”“Oh? And I’m supposed to believe I’m safer with you?”His silver eyes darkened. “Yes.”A tense silence stretched between us.I hated how calm he was. How unshaken.And worse—how my heart stuttered every time his gaze locked onto mine.I should be terrified of him.Instead, my body reacted like a live wire, every nerve aware of the space between us.I turned away, pacing near the fire. “Why me?”“Because you’re mine.”A chill raced down my spi
LIRAThe first few days in Grimhowl territory had been a test of wills.Caius, the infuriating Alpha, had made it clear that I was under his protection—which was just another way of saying I was trapped.The northern lands were colder, harsher than home. Snow blanketed the forests, ice clung to the rivers, and the air stung my skin like tiny needles. The Grimhowl wolves were different too—tough, battle-worn, but fiercely loyal to their Alpha.And Caius never left me alone.At first, I thought he wanted to keep an eye on me to prevent escape. But then I noticed the little things—how he always walked beside me, not ahead; how he made sure I had extra furs to keep warm; how he brought me food himself instead of letting his warriors serve me.It was unsettling.It was infuriating.And worse, it was working.Every time I caught his scent—smoky, rich, intoxicating—I felt my resolve waver. Every time his piercing silver eyes met mine, something inside me itched to surrender.I hated it.So, I
CAIUS I was losing my mind.Three weeks.Three weeks of Lira refusing to acknowledge the bond. Three weeks of her resisting even the smallest touches. Three weeks of me—Alpha Caius Vexmoor, the most feared wolf in the north—being utterly, helplessly ignored.And my Beta and Gamma were enjoying every damn second of it.I sat at the head of the long wooden table in the war room, fingers tapping against the armrest. The fire in the hearth crackled, the scent of burning cedar thick in the air, but it did nothing to warm the frustration simmering beneath my skin.Across from me, Elias—my Beta—lounged in his chair, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark brown hair and sharp golden eyes that missed nothing, Elias had the kind of calculating mind that had won me countless battles. But right now?Right now, he was too busy enjoying my suffering to be useful.Beside him, Ronan—my Gamma—was the very picture of poorly contained amusement. A hulking brute wi
LIRAIt started with small things.A cup of warm honeyed tea left on my table in the morning.A fresh set of riding gloves when mine wore thin.A silent presence beside me when I wandered the snowy paths around the fortress.Caius never said a word about it. Never pushed.But I felt him.The bond between us was a steady thrum in my veins. I knew he was near before I even saw him. My wolf—silent, waiting—stirred whenever he entered the room.And every time I looked at him, I hated that I was starting to see him differently.He wasn’t just the Alpha who kidnapped me anymore.He was the man who made sure I had warm tea every morning, who thought of me when I didn’t even ask for it.He was the man who stepped between me and his warriors when they stared too long, their eyes lingering in ways that made me feel uncomfortable, like they were measuring my worth or my strength.He was the man who never forced me to accept something I wasn’t ready for, who respected the space I needed even when
LIRAI wasn’t supposed to be watching him.And yet, I was.Ever since Caius had taken me, I had kept my walls up, refusing to acknowledge anything about him beyond the fact that he was my captor. The enemy. The rival Alpha.But my eyes betrayed me.Because I had started noticing things.I noticed the way his pack respected him—not just as their Alpha, but as one of their own. He didn’t rule through intimidation or brute force. He didn’t demand submission with a single look, though I knew he could if he wanted to.He led differently.I saw him train with his warriors instead of just commanding from the sidelines. I saw him eat alongside his pack, laughing and listening rather than expecting silence when he spoke.And now, as I watched him haul a massive stack of firewood across the courtyard, I found myself frowning.An Alpha doing chores?It wasn’t unheard of. My father—a strong and just leader in his own right—had always preached that an Alpha should guide, protect, and serve their p
CAIUSI told myself not to hope.Not to read too much into the way Lira’s gaze lingered on me a little longer each day.Not to let my wolf, Fenrir, get too excited over the fact that she hadn’t tried to escape in days.She watches us, Fenrir murmured in my head, his voice a deep, pleased rumble.She’s still resisting, I reminded him.But she is looking.He wasn’t wrong.I felt her eyes on me now, the weight of her stare pressing between my shoulder blades as I stacked firewood outside the training hall. She thought she was being subtle, but I knew when I was being watched.It took everything in me not to turn and meet her gaze. If I did, I knew she’d look away, that she’d retreat back into the guarded shell she had built around herself.Instead, I focused on my task, pretending that her stare didn’t make my skin heat.'She is ours,' Fenrir continued. 'She just doesn’t know it yet.''She thinks I stole her.''You did,' he pointed out.'You’re not helping.''You need to make her see, Cai
CAUISThe walls of the packhouse felt smaller than I remembered.Every creak in the floorboards, every breath I took—it all sounded louder now without Fenrir’s presence muffling the world. Without him, my senses were mine alone. Just mine. But it didn’t feel like freedom. It felt like a void.Lira walked beside me, silent but steady, her hand wrapped around mine. She hadn't let go since the clearing. I didn’t realize how much I was leaning on her until we reached the edge of the war room and I stumbled slightly.She caught me, of course. Just like she always did.“I’m fine,” I muttered, more for myself than for her.“You don’t have to lie to me,” she said gently, guiding me into the chair beside the long table. “You’re allowed to break, Caius. Just… not alone.”I leaned back, resting my head against the chair. The same chair I used to sit in when planning patrol routes, border meetings, or war tactics. But now I felt like an impostor in my own command.“I used to feel him everywhere,”
CAUISTwo days.That’s how long I’ve been walking around with the weight of a war I can’t even fight properly. Since Morgana’s revelation—since Ysara’s talisman reacted to me—I’ve been carrying more than just the burden of being Alpha.I’ve been carrying him.Malakar.He’s been leaking into my mind, into my instincts, tainting my bond with Fenrir. I’ve heard whispers that don’t belong to me—urges that feel wrong in the marrow of my bones. At first, they were faint. But now… they pulse beneath my skin.I’ve kept it hidden. From everyone.But Morgana knew.She came this morning, not alone—but with Aldric at her side.I was in the clearing behind the packhouse—the only place where Morgana’s wards still muted the noise in my head. It was the only place I could think. Or at least try to. And Lira, my luna, had been by my side through it all.I heard Aldric’s boots before I saw him—solid, slow, and full of purpose. Morgana’s steps were quieter, but the magic she carried always announced her
MORGANAThe scent of rosemary and dried bloodroot clung to my robes as I pored over the fifth tome of the morning. My fingers trembled—not from age, but from urgency. It had been two days since we discovered the truth.Two days since I learned that Malakar had not merely touched Caius’ mind… but had laced himself into his very shadow.A tether. A slow poison.A curse older than most witches alive today.I hadn’t slept. The fire in my chamber barely flickered anymore, kept alive only by the pulse of my magic and the constant rustling of pages. On the table before me, scrolls lay scattered, ink smudged by my hurried notes. I’d summoned wind spirits for answers. Brewed insight draughts. Called on the ancestors through the Oracle’s Mirror.Nothing had given me what I needed.Because this was no ordinary corruption. Malakar wasn’t just feeding off Caius—he was waiting. Waiting for the right moment to seize full control.And that moment was drawing near.Caius hadn't said much in the last t
CAUISWe scoured the halls until our feet ached and our patience thinned.Every wall, every crack, every space in the packhouse was searched—twice. The talismans Ysara gave us were sensitive, humming lightly in our palms whenever they neared even the faintest trace of cursed energy. But for hours, they offered nothing but silence.Until Kora stopped dead in her tracks."Wait… the old stone hearth," she said, her voice sharp with realization. "The one in the original east wing kitchen. No one uses it anymore, but it's still there."The east wing. Of course.No one cooked there now. The kitchens had been rebuilt on the other side after the fire years ago. But the room remained accessible—used occasionally for storage, sometimes by pups playing hide-and-seek. A forgotten relic of our home’s past.And the perfect place to hide something no one was meant to find.We rushed to the hearth, the talismans growing heavier with each step.As soon as we crossed the threshold, the symbols on the t
MORGANA I didn't walk. I ran. The vision still echoed behind my eyes like lightning that refused to fade. I had no time to waste, no room for caution. I clutched the edge of my cloak and stormed through the halls of Grimhowl, the weight of destiny—and dread—pressing down on my shoulders like an avalanche ready to fall. Caius. Lira. They needed to know what I saw. The future was still uncertain, a thread split in two. One path led to fire, ruin, and death. The other—hope. But both required a choice. A sacrifice. A weapon. And time, we had little of that left. I reached the dining hall, heart thudding in my chest, relief washing over me as I spotted them all inside. Lira stood beside Caius, her hand resting gently on his. Tobias and Thoren sat nearby, deep in conversation with Seraphina and Dain. Deanna and Elowen were seated next to Ronan and Kora, who looked up the moment I entered. Elias stood at the far end, arms crossed, eyes alert. Even the Elders Council had g
MORGANA The moment I stepped out of the war room, scroll clutched tight to my chest, I felt the weight of centuries settle on my shoulders like a cloak spun from memory and magic. The Map of the Bloodseer. I had heard of it in whispers—in forgotten tomes and fragmented chants. A myth, they claimed. A tale told by seers too old to trust and too mad to be believed. But it was real. Right in my hands, pulsing faintly with the tangled threads of fate itself. This could be the turning point in the war. Or a trap we were too desperate to ignore. I moved quickly through Grimhowl’s stone halls, ducking into the small chamber I’d claimed as my study. Candles flared to life with a flick of my fingers. Runes on the walls shimmered, reacting to the old magic now saturating the space. I laid the map out carefully across the old table, heart pounding not with fear—but with urgency. Because this time, it was personal. My hands hovered over the parchment, and I whispered an incan
CAUIS I stood at the head of the hall, my hand resting lightly on the back of Lira’s chair, listening to Ronan speak. His voice echoed just enough to remind us all why we were really here. "Alright, as beautiful as all these long-lost family moments are,” Ronan began, flashing a small grin, “we didn’t come back just to cry and sniff each other’s hair.” A few chuckles rumbled through the hall—Kora rolled her eyes, Seraphina smirked into her cup, and even Tobias cracked a grin. But I could feel the shift in Ronan’s tone even before the humor faded from his face. “We come bearing news from the Village of Enomenos,” he said. Just like that, the air changed. I straightened. “Then we need to meet. We’ll keep this here brief and move to the war room.” “Thoren, Tobias, you and your daughters stay,” I added, catching my mate’s gaze and brushing my fingers across her hand. “You deserve the time to catch up.” “But unfortunately for Elias,” Ronan smirked over his should
ELIAS The warmth of the dining hall clashed with the tension humming beneath my skin. We’d only just returned—Thoren, Ronan, Kora, and I—bringing news from the nearby village. We hadn’t been gone long, but in war, every hour stretched thin. Every moment was weighted. And yet, in the middle of it all, I found myself rooted in place—not by dread, not by urgency—but by a scent. I froze near the entrance, my breath catching. It drifted through the air, cutting through the aromas of roasted meat, earth, and fire. This scent was different. Unmistakable. Fresh rain on wildflowers. Sweet… and wild. Mate. My head snapped toward the far end of the hall. And that’s when I saw her. She stood beside Dain, half-shielded by the curve of his arm. Her gaze was already on me. Wide-eyed. Curious. Like she felt it too. No—she knew. The world narrowed. Sounds dimmed. I took a step forward before I even realized I was moving. My heart thundered in my chest as I closed
SERAPHINA The warmth of familiar arms still lingered on my skin. I was wrapped in it—reunion, laughter, tears. The scent of my mother, the comforting cadence of Tobias’s voice, even Morgana’s sharp, dry wit—it all created a fragile kind of joy, stitched together by disbelief. I was home. Somehow. Even though the walls were different, the ground colder, and the people scarred by what had come before, I was here. After so long, I let myself breathe again. Because suddenly, something cold twisted in my gut. My father. The joy faded from my face like ash on the wind. I turned sharply, searching the faces around me—Tobias, Morgana, Dain. Dain. He stood near the fire, his arms crossed, face half-cast in shadow. “Dain,” I said, stepping forward. “Valenwood… what happened to it? Where’s my father? Is he still—” I couldn’t finish the question. My voice cracked, and the unspoken horrors hung between us like smoke. His jaw tightened, lips pressing into a thin l