004

Lyra's POV.

That night, I couldn't sleep.

The house was too quiet, too heavy. Like it was holding its breath. And I knew something was wrong even before I heard the voices.

I crept down the hallway, barefoot. The floor was cold, and every creak made me freeze. But I kept going. My parents' room was down the east wing. The door was cracked open. Just a little.

I stood by the wall, just close enough to hear them.

“You’re sending him to his death,” my mother’s voice was shaking. “He can’t even hold a full conversation anymore, Loran. He doesn’t sleep. He forgets his own name sometimes!”

“Lower your voice,” my father hissed.

“Why? You’re not listening anyway! You’re pretending this isn’t happening! Rowan is not well…he’s not Alpha material right now!”

I pressed a hand to my chest.

“I’m not pretending,” my father said. “I know very well what’s happening. I also know we don’t have time. The pack needs a leader. We are already a joke, Adina. Do you know how many packs have pulled their alliance from us this year?”

She didn’t speak.

“Three,” he said. “Three of them. And rogues have breached our borders five times in the past month alone. Supplies are drying up. We can’t keep this going. If I step down in three months, I’ll hand the title to someone else…someone capable. Because my family…” His voice cracked, just for a second. “My family has failed.”

I turned and ran before I could hear more.

I made it to my room, locked the door, and dropped to my knees. My hands shook.

Failed?

No.

Not yet.

I didn’t sleep. I came out, sat in front of their window for hours, waiting for them to leave the room. And when they did…my mother wiping her eyes, my father silent and stiff…I watched where he put the crest.

On the shelf in his study. Near the window. Stupid mistake.

It was almost morning when I snuck in. I moved fast, heart thumping loud in my ears. I opened the window from the outside, reached in, and grabbed it.

The crest felt heavier than I thought it would. Like it knew I was stealing it.

But I didn’t stop.

I ran.

Not into the woods. Not out the gates. There was an old stone cabin near the training fields…abandoned, barely used. I slipped inside, locked the door, and collapsed against the wall.

My hands were sweaty. My heart wouldn’t slow down. But I knew what I had to do.

I walked to the broken mirror in the corner.

And I stared.

Then I picked up the scissors.

I cut my hair off, piece by piece. It wasn’t neat. It wasn’t clean. But I didn’t stop until it was gone. I used the shaving blade next, buzzing the rest off until my scalp felt strange under my palm.

I stared back at myself. My face looked different already.

Then I stripped.

I pulled the bandages from the drawer. I tied them around my chest, tight. Too tight. My breathing felt weird. But I wrapped them again, and again, until my chest was flat.

Then Rowan’s clothes. I found one of his old training jackets and pants from last year. Baggy on him. Even worse on me.

I tucked my hair in the collar, rubbed some dirt on my face, and pulled on boots.

Last part.

I stared at the fake moustache I’d stolen from the old costume trunk. My fingers shook as I pressed it to my upper lip.

It was stupid. It looked ridiculous. But I didn't laugh.

I stood in front of the mirror.

My eyes locked with the reflection.

“You’re Rowan now,” I whispered.

Inside me, Nira stirred.

‘This is insane, Lyra,’ she said. ‘You’ll get caught. We’ll get killed.’

I shook my head. “I’d rather die trying than sit back and watch our pack fall apart.”

‘You’re not him,’ she said. ‘You’re a girl. A rejected girl. If they find out…’

“They won’t,” I cut her off. “Because I won’t let them.”

She went quiet again.

I stared at myself a little longer. The fake moustache. The buzzcut. The bruises under my eyes from no sleep. My brother’s clothes swallowing my body.

It wasn’t perfect. But it would have to do.

Because I was going to that academy.

And I was going to become the Alpha Heir.

Even if I had to lie through my teeth to get there.

I took one last look at the small space around me…the stone walls, the broken mirror, the tangled mess of my hair on the ground.

Then I picked up the pen.

The paper shook in my hands as I wrote, but I didn’t stop.

‘Mama, Papa…

I’m sorry. But I can’t sit still anymore.

Rowan can’t go. You know that. He’s not okay.

But we can’t let the pack die either. We can’t be forgotten.

So I’m going in his place.

Don’t try to find me.

Don’t try to stop me.

Let me do this.

Love,

Lyra.’

I folded the letter and slid it into the pouch with the crest. I pressed it against the inside of the cabin door, gave it one last look…and stepped out into the cold.

The sky was fading from black to gray, dew still clinging to the leaves, air sharp against my skin. I closed my eyes.

And then I shifted.

Bones snapped, fur stretched across my back, and pain wrapped around my ribs, but I didn’t make a sound. I crouched low, the scent of trees and soil heavy around me. My paws hit the ground.

I ran.

Branches tore past me, dirt kicked up under my feet. I didn’t stop, didn’t slow…until it hit me.

A sound.

Low at first. Then it rose.

A growl. No, more than that. A snarl so deep, so angry, it sounded like it was ripping out of hell.

Rowan.

His cries shook through the trees, wild and unhinged. Beastly. Savage. There were no words. No pain-filled pleas. Just rage. Pure, animal rage. The kind that made your stomach twist.

I stopped.

My ears twitched.

Another roar tore through the woods, louder this time, like something had slammed itself against iron.

Metal groaned. Claws scraped.

My brother… wasn’t himself anymore.

And still… I didn’t turn back.

I wanted to. God, I wanted to. But I couldn’t help him like this. I couldn’t save him from inside this pack, not as I was.

So I ran harder.

Tears blurred my vision. My chest burned. But I didn’t look back. Not even once.