Lyra’s POVThe dream clung to me long after I woke up. His small hand gripping mine. His voice, so certain. You’re supposed to be my shield. I tried to still my senses as they seemed to float all over the place.I pressed my palms against the washbasin, water dripping between my fingers. My reflection was pale, shadowed. But behind my eyes lingered that violet flicker, the one I couldn’t deny anymore.“You’re not nothing,” I whispered. The girl in the water didn’t laugh this time.By noon, Seraphina had occupied herself elsewhere, and I was left in the grand hall with tasks that required no thought. Carrying scrolls, moving goblets, standing still. All the while, the hum inside me grew louder. Sounds and half sentences continued to filter into my ears, and smells toyed with me, nauseating me to the core of my being.And then he entered.Kieran.He filled the room without effort, cloak sweeping, hair damp from training. My heart betrayed me by leaping too fast. He looked at me once, th
Lyra’s POVI didn’t want to sleep. Not after the claws. Not after Seraphina’s whispers. But exhaustion dragged me under like a current, and the dream came with it.Only this time, it didn’t wait for me to settle.I opened my eyes to the forest, already ablaze. Smoke stung my throat, sparks hissed in the dark. Shadows moved fast—steel against claw, men against wolves.But I wasn’t standing apart anymore. My hands weren’t hands. They curved into claws, the earth vibrating through my bones. The scents hit me first—blood sharp as iron, fear sour as vinegar, sweat thick and heavy.I staggered. This isn’t watching. This is living.A voice cut through. “You again.”I turned. The copper-haired Beta stood before me, sword slick with blood, shield dented, eyes wild. His voice was hoarse, but steady.“You don’t belong here,” he said.“I know,” I gasped.“Then why do you keep coming?”“I don’t choose it.”He bared his teeth. “Who did, then?" Before I could answer, the boy-Kieran appeared behind
Lyra’s POVBy the second morning after the claws, my skin felt too tight. Every sound scraped, every scent pressed, every step pulled me closer to something I couldn’t control.And of course, she summoned me.Lady Seraphina lounged in her chamber like a queen without a crown. Her robe spilled across the couch, silk pale as bone. Freya stood at her side, tray in hand, eyes steady but careful.“Shadow,” Lady Seraphina cooed. “Come closer.”I obeyed. My feet carried me to the edge of the rug though my heart wanted to bolt.“You walk differently,” she said.“I didn’t notice,” I replied.“You never do.” Her lips curved. “Others do.”Her gaze flicked between me and Freya, lingering like a knife that couldn’t decide where to press.“I’ve been thinking,” she said, stretching like a cat. “One of you is useful. One of you is decoration. But which?”Her eyes found mine. “Which are you, little shadow?”I swallowed. “Whatever you require, my lady.”“A clever answer. Safe. Predictable.” She turned
Lyra’s POVThe night pressed down heavily. My body throbbed, restless beneath my skin. Every sound carved too deep, every scent crowded too close.I whispered to myself, “Hold it. Choose one sound.”The drip from the roof. Steady, slow. I clung to it.But the moment I closed my eyes, the drip broke into a roar. My veins burned. My nails dug into my palms until they cut.Something inside me wanted out.By dawn, my hands shook so badly I could barely fasten my dress. I pushed myself into the corridor anyway. The air smelled too sharp, too alive: meat cooking two floors away, wet stone on the walls, sweat on a guard who passed without looking at me. I turned and ran out into the lavender fields, going as far away from the palace as possible.My stomach clenched, not from hunger, but from need. I pressed a hand to my chest.“What’s happening to me?”“Lyra?”I turned. Freya. Her eyes swept me once, and she frowned walking towards me.“You look… worse.”“I feel worse.”She took my hand and
Lyra’s POVThe morning began with confidence I didn’t own. I carried the tray steady, the cups polished, the bread warm. My body hummed with a new rhythm, but I told myself I could hold it together.Kieran sat at the head of the table. Lady Seraphina beside him.Her laughter lilted like perfume, soft and practiced. His eyes lingered on her as she leaned in, speaking low, every gesture polished.I stood at the corner, invisible, clutching the tray. My throat dried.Look at me, I begged silently. See me.He didn’t.The sound hit me before the words. A thought—not mine—heavy and scornful.‘She doesn’t belong here. A shadow, nothing more. Too fragile. Too weak.’My chest seized. The voice wasn’t Seraphina’s. It was his. Alpha Kieran.The tray slipped. Metal clattered. Plates shattered against the marble, the sound too loud, too final.The room fell still.Seraphina’s lips curved. “How clumsy!” She sucked her teeth in heavy disappointment.Heat scalded my face. “Forgive me,” I whispered, k
Lyra’s POVBy morning, my body hummed with sounds that weren’t mine. I woke to footsteps echoing above me, though the floor should have muffled them. I tasted bitterness in the air from spilled ink. Every sense felt raw, stretched too thin. I wanted to hide it. But hiding felt impossible when even silence seemed too loud.No one was in the room when I woke up. I washed my face and headed out into the hallway. Freya caught me outside the corridor leading to Lady Seraphina’s chambers. Her face was calm, but her voice dropped to a whisper.“She’s testing you.”I blinked. “Who?”“Don’t play stupid.” She glanced toward the double doors. “Lady Seraphina.”“She’s always testing me.”“Not like this. She’s watching for cracks. She wants to see what breaks first—your body or your mind.”I bit the inside of my cheek. “Then I’ll give her neither.”Freya’s eyes searched mine. “Wherever you're getting the courage from, I think I like it. I only hope it doesn't endanger us both.”“What do you mean?