LOGINRejected by her mate for being unfit as a Luna, Lyra is shattered, and determined to prove her worth. When her twin brother, Rowan, falls ill, their parents hide him away. With war drawing near and Alpha heirs sent to train at the elite Alpha Academy, Lyra disguises herself as Rowan to protect her pack’s honor. Now living among future Alphas, she must master her wolf, fight harder than anyone, and keep her identity secret. But one enemy threatens it all. Killian, a ruthless Alpha, hates “Rowan” for reasons he can’t explain…until his wolf reacts. Mated to a boy? Impossible. As war nears, Lyra must choose: keep lying and survive…or risk it all for her second-chance mate.
View MoreI had been walking on air all day.
Owen had asked to speak with me. Owen. I couldn’t stop replaying it in my head. Maybe, just maybe, this was it. Maybe he’d finally see me…not as just the Alpha’s daughter, or the girl who hovered around him quietly…but as the one who had always been there. The one who loved him. The one who would have given him everything. When I spotted him across the clearing, my heart jumped. He looked like a storm…jaw clenched, arms crossed, his entire body radiating tension. Still, I smiled. I tried to believe there was something behind the cold mask he wore. Something soft. Something that maybe, just maybe, had started to care. I took a tentative step forward, heart thudding. “Owen,” I breathed, reaching out. He stepped back like my touch would poison him. “Don’t,” he snapped, voice flat and sharp. My hand dropped. My chest tightened. "Lyra," he said, and even the way he said my name sounded like an inconvenience. “We need to talk.” “I’m listening,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice from cracking. His eyes were everywhere but on me. He stared at the trees, the ground, even the clouds…but not once did he meet my eyes. Like I didn’t matter. Like I wasn’t even worth looking at. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, arms still crossed. “About our packs. About you. About this… mistake.” My lips parted slightly, confusion setting in. “Mistake?” “This…whatever this was supposed to be. The bond. You,” he spat. “None of it makes sense. And it never will.” My throat tightened. “Owen…” “You’re a charity case,” he cut in. “Everyone knows it. You trail behind me like some pathetic shadow, always watching, always hoping. It’s exhausting. You’re exhausting.” A sharp sting hit the back of my eyes, but I held it in. I wouldn't cry. Not yet. Not in front of him. “My father’s pack is struggling,” I said, swallowing the lump rising in my throat. “But that doesn’t mean I am. I’m not weak.” “You're nothing, Lyra.” His voice was like a blade. “Your pack is a disaster. Your bloodline is tainted by failure. And you? You’re dull. Predictable. Forgettable.” I blinked hard, forcing back the moisture in my eyes. My chest burned. My lungs felt tight. Still, I stood straight. “I don’t understand,” I said softly. “Why now? Why are you saying this now?” He finally looked at me. There was no warmth in his eyes. No remorse. Only disgust. “Because I’ve wasted enough time pretending,” he said. “Selena’s back.” The world dropped out from under me. “She left you,” I said quietly, the words barely forming. “She walked away from you. You broke down because of her. I was there. I…” “And I’d still choose her a thousand times over you,” he said, mouth twisting into a cruel grin. “You were a placeholder. A distraction. I never wanted you.” I took a shaky breath. My eyes were wet, the tears now threatening to fall, but I held them back. I refused to let him see them. “I was good to you,” I whispered. “I stayed. I waited. I tried.” “And I hated every second of it,” he snapped. “You’re always waiting around like a lost pup, clinging to the smallest shred of attention like it’s love. It’s pathetic.” I felt Nira growl within me, but her strength was faint…crushed beneath the weight of our shared heartbreak. “You’re rejecting me,” I said. “Aren’t you?” “I should’ve done it a long time ago,” he said, and then leaned closer, his voice low, venomous. “I reject you, Lyra of the Blueclaw Pack. I reject you, your weak blood, your desperate little heart, and everything you thought this was. I want nothing to do with you…not now, not ever.” His words hit like a storm, one after the other, tearing through the bond I had cherished for so long. Every part of me screamed. Every breath hurt. The tears were there, hot and heavy in my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. He wasn’t worth that. “I accept your rejection,” I said, though my voice trembled. “And one day, Owen…you’ll realize what you lost.” He let out a short laugh. “The only thing I’m losing is dead weight.” I watched him turn his back on me without a second thought. No hesitation. No guilt. Just like that…he walked away. And I stood there…trembling, broken, but still not crying. Not yet. I wouldn’t give him that. Nira’s voice rose inside me, it was low but filled with rage. ‘We’ll rise, Lyra. We’ll become everything he said we couldn’t. And he’ll hate himself for ever speaking to us like that.’ And I swore then and there…I would make Owen regret every single word.LYRA'S POV. The air in the stone-walled washroom was cold, but my skin felt like it was on fire. I leaned my forehead against the cool surface of the mirror, my breath hitching in my throat. I hadn’t felt right for a week. At first, I told myself it was just the stress of the High Stone ceremony, or the exhaustion of merging two packs that used to hunt each other for sport.But then the scent of the morning's salt-cured venison had hit my nose, and I’d barely made it to the basin before my stomach turned inside out.I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. I was Lyra Blueclaw. I had killed men twice my size. I had dismantled a centuries-old Council with nothing but a borrowed name and a blade. I wasn't supposed to be afraid of a biological clock.'Lyra,' Nira whispered in the back of my mind. Her voice was unusually quiet, colored with a strange, shimmering gold light. 'Do you feel it? The second heartbeat?'I pressed my palm flat against my stomach, right over the leather belt
KILLIAN’S POV. I didn't move. I didn't even breathe. I just stayed there, lying on my side, watching the way her chest rose and fell in the early morning light. For ten years, I woke up with my hand on a shank, my eyes searching for the nearest exit, and my wolf screaming that someone was coming to kill us. But this morning, the only thing I felt was the heat of her skin against mine.Lyra looked different when she was asleep. The hard, sharp edge she carried as the Alpha of the North was gone. Her face was soft, her mouth slightly parted, and her short hair was a mess against the white pillow. I reached out, my fingers hovering just an inch above her cheek. I didn't touch her. Not yet. I just wanted to look at her. I wanted to burn this image into my brain so that if the world ever went to hell again, I’d have this to hold onto."Stop staring, Killian. You're going to give me a headache."Her voice was thick with sleep, a low rasp that sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to my
LYRA'S POV. "I think my ribs forgot how to expand without a roll of medical tape holding them down," I said, my voice cracking as I fumbled with the heavy leather buckles of my chest piece.Killian didn't say a word. He just stepped into the center of the room, his boots hitting the floorboards with a solid thud that seemed to settle the frantic energy still vibrating in my bones. He reached out, his large, scarred hands brushing mine away from the leather straps. His touch was warm...so warm it felt like it was melting the ice that had lived under my skin since the day I ran away from this house."Let me," he whispered.His eyes were locked on mine, and for the first time since the Academy, they weren't searching for a threat. They were just looking at me. Really looking at me. He looked like a man who had finally reached the end of a long, bloody road and found exactly what he was looking for. There was a look in his eyes that made my stomach do a slow, heavy flip...a mix of raw hu
LYRA'S POV. The air at the summit of the Great Stone was crisp, carrying the scent of ancient pine and the distant, sharp tang of the coming winter. Torches were shoved into iron brackets around the perimeter, their orange light dancing against the rugged faces of the warriors gathered in a massive circle.This was the heart of the North...a place where for centuries, only men had stood to claim the title of Alpha.I stood at the edge of the clearing, my heart hammering a steady rhythm against my ribs. I wasn't wearing silk. I wasn't wearing the heavy, suffocating furs of the old regime. I wore my dark leather armor, the scuffs and marks from the Academy still visible on the sleeves. My short hair was swept back, exposing my face to the biting wind.Beside me, Killian was a shadow of pure power. He had dressed in the black of the Blackwood pack, a heavy cloak draped over his broad shoulders. He didn’t need to say a word; his presence alone was a warning to anyone who might think of q
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