chapter three

The first thing Lyra noticed after the shift was the cold.

Not the bite of the winter air—but the absence of pain. For the first time in her life, her bones didn’t ache, her skin didn’t bruise at the lightest touch, and her breath didn’t feel like a silent scream trapped in her throat.

She stood in the snow, breath heaving, her paws—my paws—sinking slightly into the frozen ground. Her wolf was massive, sleek as obsidian, the silver-blue in her eyes glowing like a star caught in shadow.

It had worked.

The seal was broken.

And the wolf was real.

I’m here, the voice whispered inside her mind. It didn’t sound like her. It sounded like wind sharpened into a blade. Cold, calm, feral. You are not alone anymore.

Lyra didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the tears freeze on her fur. They weren’t from pain. Not this time.

Freedom had a taste. It was raw and wild and unfamiliar. It tasted like air untainted by blood.

Kaelen stood just beyond the tree line, eyes trained on her, watching. Not with fear. Not even with hunger.

With reverence.

He stepped closer, careful, slow, but not hesitant. His presence stirred her wolf, not in alarm—but in recognition.

Mate.

She pulled herself out of it with effort and shifted back, dropping to her knees in the snow as her body reformed. The transition wasn’t as painful as it had been the first time, but it still left her breathless and trembling.

Kaelen was already kneeling beside her, his cloak in hand.

“Here,” he murmured, draping it over her shoulders. “You did it.”

“I shifted,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and disbelieving. “I really… shifted.”

His smile was rare, but real. “I told you the wolf wasn’t gone. Just chained.”

She looked at him, stunned. “You… believed in me.”

“I didn’t have to,” he said simply. “I saw you.”

A beat of silence passed between them, intimate and heavy.

But then the trees whispered. Wind changed. The forest warned them.

Lyra felt the tension first. A tightening in her chest. Her wolf bristled.

Kaelen’s eyes darkened. “We’re no longer alone.”

He stood in one smooth motion and moved toward the cabin, motioning for Lyra to follow. Her legs shook, but she obeyed, slipping inside just as he began securing the door with a thick iron bar.

“They’re fast,” he muttered. “Too fast for Dren’s foot soldiers.”

She blinked. “You mean…?”

“Trackers,” he said, expression grim. “Possibly blood-scented. Rogues working for him, maybe even bound wolves. He wouldn’t send pack warriors this deep unless he had a death wish.”

Lyra felt the shift in him then—Alpha energy coiling beneath his skin, sharp as steel. The Kaelen who had been training her, challenging her, even teasing her—was gone.

In his place stood the war-born Alpha of Riftwood.

The one even nightmares feared.

He moved to the hearth and opened a hidden compartment in the stone. Weapons lay inside—knives silvered at the edges, a curved short sword with runes etched along the blade, and a strange obsidian dagger that hummed with something old.

“Can we outrun them?” Lyra asked, heart thudding.

“Not if they’ve scented you. Not if they’ve been ordered to drag you back alive.”

“Then we fight?”

He paused, glancing at her. “No.”

Her stomach dropped. “What?”

“We run,” Kaelen said. “You’re not ready.”

Her chin lifted, defiant. “You said I broke the seal.”

“You broke the seal,” he agreed. “But you haven’t trained your wolf. You barely shifted once. You’re strong, but not yet dangerous. And if they capture you—”

“Then they’ll kill me.”

Kaelen stepped toward her slowly. “No. They’ll cage you. Use you. Breed your bloodline to control the Shadowbound.”

Her face paled.

He softened slightly. “That’s what you’re worth to them, Lyra. Not because they see you. But because they fear what you could become.”

She felt her knees weaken, but she didn’t let herself fall.

Not now.

“What do we do?”

Kaelen’s jaw flexed. “There’s a place. A sanctuary. Deep in the Whispering Woods. No pack dares to tread there.”

“Why?”

“Because the wolves there don’t obey the moon.”

Lyra swallowed hard. “Sounds… promising.”

“It’s where I went when I had nowhere else.”

She met his gaze. “It’s where we’ll go now.”

---

The forest was a different beast at night. It breathed. It listened.

Lyra moved behind Kaelen in silence, her steps light, senses stretched taut. Her wolf lingered just beneath her skin now—closer than before, pulsing like a second heartbeat.

She could feel them following. Not close, but not far either. Whoever Dren sent, they were good. Silent. Intent.

“We need to throw them off your scent,” Kaelen said, cutting through thick brush. “Even Shadowbound blood can be masked with the right trick.”

He led her toward a river. It was half-frozen, the surface jagged with ice.

“Strip,” he ordered. “We go through.”

Lyra raised a brow. “You’re enjoying this.”

His eyes didn’t waver. “Not even a little. The water will hide your scent trail for a mile, maybe more.”

Together they waded in, gasping as the freezing current surged around them. Lyra gritted her teeth, her breath hitching.

“Just keep moving,” Kaelen said through clenched jaws. “Don’t stop.”

They moved chest-deep, the current numbing, biting at their bones.

By the time they emerged on the far side, their bodies were shaking. Kaelen moved quickly, handing her a dry cloak from a hidden stash beneath a hollowed log. He changed in silence, jaw locked.

Lyra’s teeth chattered. “Tell me again why we couldn’t shift and run faster?”

Kaelen gave her a half-smirk. “Because I like having toes.”

She almost smiled, despite the fear clawing inside her.

Then the howl came.

Low. Distant. Echoing through the trees like a death bell.

They both froze.

“They’re closer,” Kaelen muttered. “And they know we’re running.”

“What now?”

Kaelen looked at the moonless sky, his voice quiet.

“Now we make them regret it.”

---

It happened faster than Lyra expected.

A blur of shadow leapt from the trees, fangs bared, a rogue in wolf form lunging for her throat. Lyra dropped, rolled, shifted mid-air, and landed in wolf form with a snarl.

Kaelen was already fighting.

Steel clashed. Bone cracked. He moved like a hurricane, his blades a blur.

Lyra fought on instinct. Her wolf tore into the attacker’s side, biting deep. Blood spilled across the snow, steaming and dark. The rogue yelped and fell back, bleeding heavily.

Another came. Then a third.

But Kaelen was everywhere at once. Brutal. Efficient. Alpha.

Lyra landed a killing blow with her fangs, shaking free the last of her fear as she stood over the broken body of her would-be captor.

Her chest heaved. Her eyes blazed.

And for the first time, the wolf inside her didn’t feel like a stranger.

Kaelen joined her, blood on his blade.

“Three rogues,” he muttered. “Means there are more. Dren doesn’t send just three.”

She looked at him. “So what now?”

“We make them think you died here.”

Lyra blinked. “You want me to play dead?”

“No,” he said, stepping toward her. “I want them to believe it. I’m going to burn one of their bodies with your scent all over it. They’ll assume I killed you out of rage or spite.”

Her stomach turned. “And you?”

“I’ll vanish. You’ll vanish.”

He paused.

“But only if you choose that.”

She looked at him, stunned.

“This is the moment, Lyra,” he said softly. “You can keep running. Or you can fight.”

Her wolf growled.

She stood straighter.

“I choose fight.”

A flicker of something passed through Kaelen’s gaze. Pride. Pain. Affection.

And something deeper.

He nodded. “Then let’s make you unstoppable.”