Chapter 2

Lyra

“Let go of me,” I hissed, fingers clawing at her wrist. “You’re hurting me.”

Miranda’s grip tightened instead.

Pain exploded across my scalp as she yanked my hair back, forcing my head up so I had no choice but to meet her eyes. Her expression was no longer mockery—it was triumph, sharp and shining.

“Good,” she said softly. “Maybe pain will teach you your place.”

Gasps rippled through the square.

I staggered, nails scraping against her skin as I tried to pull free. My vision blurred, heat roaring through my veins, the hum inside me surging into something wild and furious.

“Stop,” I said, my voice shaking. “Stop it!”

She leaned closer, breath hot against my ear. “You should be punished for daring to touch what doesn’t belong to you.”

Something snapped inside me, a violent pressure expanding outward, as if my bones could no longer contain it.

Miranda was ripped away from me and thrown backward like a rag doll, slamming into the stone steps with a bone-jarring crack. She cried out as she hit the ground, the sound sharp and terrified.

I staggered, staring at my hands like they belonged to someone else.

What did I just…

I didn’t get to finish the thought when the square erupted.

“Stand down!”

“On the ground, now!”

“Hands where we can see them!”

Soldiers flooded in from every direction, rifles raised, boots pounding stone. Red targeting lights danced across my chest, my arms, my face.

“Don’t move!” someone shouted.

I froze.

Miranda lay sprawled on the ground, clutching her shoulder, eyes bright with tears—and something else. Satisfaction.

“She attacked me,” Miranda sobbed. “You all saw it. That thing…she used power on me!”

“I didn’t…” I opened my mouth to speak but was cut halfway.

Two soldiers seized my arms, forcing them behind my back. Cold restraints snapped around my wrists, dampening sigils flaring to life. The hum inside me recoiled violently, shrieking as the suppression bit deep.

I gasped, knees buckling. Whatever had been burning inside me moments ago collapsed into panic and hollow pain. I shouldn’t have come, a voice whispered in the back of my mind. I knew better.

“Lyra Blackwood,” a commander barked. “You are under arrest by order of the Council.”

The words rang hollow in my ears, the world blurring at the edges. Faces warped. Voices stretched thin and distant, like I was underwater and sinking fast.

They dragged me through the inner gates I was never allowed to cross. The Council chamber loomed—steel, glass, and ancient stone fused into something cold and unforgiving. Elders sat elevated behind a semicircle of reinforced barriers, eyes glowing faintly as they watched me forced to my knees.

I lifted my head, searching the chamber, wishing Cassian was here. The space where he should have been felt loud—an absence so sharp it stole my breath. If he were here, he'd be standing already between me and the council, daring them to say it again. I forced my gaze downward instead, refusing to meet the elders’ eyes. I wouldn’t beg. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

“She exhibited unnatural force, beyond human capacity” one elder said flatly. “She endangered a pack member.”

I lifted my head. “She assaulted me,” I defended, my voice steadier than I felt. “In front of witnesses.”

The chamber stirred. Low voices overlapped—questions, doubts, unease—but the elders didn’t allow it to breathe. A sharp gesture silenced the room.

“Humans do not wield force,” the elder replied. “Not without corruption.”

A hollow weight pressed against my ribs, like the air itself was judging me. “I… I don’t know what happened,” I said, voice trembling despite my effort. “I lost control.”

“You never had control,” Miranda’s father snapped from the sidelines. “You never should have been allowed here.”

The room went still.

An elder rose slowly. “Lyra Blackwood. You were tolerated because of your bond to our Alpha heir. But today, you have proven what you truly are.”

My throat felt dry, like swallowing would scrape away what little composure I had left. “Which is?” I asked, forcing the words out through the taste of iron and dust in my mouth.

“A threat.”

The word struck like a blade, clean and absolute.

“You are an evil human,” he continued, voice ringing through the chamber. “One who has bewitched an Alpha and brought imbalance to this pack.”

A sharp pulse of nausea hit me. The room tilted, voices stretching into echoes as if the words had warped reality. ‘Evil human’. The phrase hammered through me, an accusation that stuck to my skin like fire. If Cassian were here, he’d tear this room apart before letting them brand me like this.

“Alpha Cassian is absent,” the elder replied coolly, as if hearing my thoughts. “And until he returns, we protect this pack.”

I let out a dry, bitter laugh under my breath. Protect? From me? I knew their protection was a pretense, they’d hand down another verdict tomorrow if it suited them, no thought of fairness or truth. Their loyalty wasn’t to justice; it was to control. And I wasn’t part of that equation.

“You will be released tonight,” the elder said, “stripped of all protection. You are no longer welcome within Thorneveil territory.”

I didn’t argue. Not because I agreed, but because something inside me finally understood.

This was never a trial.

The restraints were removed. I stood on shaking legs, surrounded by eyes that no longer pretended tolerance.

Miranda watched me as I was escorted out, her lips curling into a slow, satisfied smile.

It was past midnight when I reached home.

Smoke hit me first. Then heat.

My house was on fire.

Flames tore through the roof, devouring wood and glass, painting the night sky in furious orange. Neighbors stood back in clusters, faces pale, eyes averted.

“Mom!” I screamed, sprinting forward.

Arms grabbed me, holding me back. “You can’t go in there!”

“My parents are inside!” I fought, slamming my fists into the soldier’s chest. “Let me go!”

The heat pressed against my skin, the hum inside me surging wildly, desperate, screaming.

“Dad!” My voice cracked. “Dad!”

I broke free and ran.

The door was already collapsing inward, fire roaring like a living thing. I forced my way through, smoke choking my lungs, tears streaming down my face.

“Mom!” I cried. “Dad, please!”

The ceiling groaned and a beam crashed down between us.

For one heartbeat, I saw them.

My father’s arms locked around my mother, his back to the flames, his eyes finding mine.

“Lyra,” he shouted. “Run. Don’t look back.”

The blast knocked me backward, throwing me through the doorway and into the dirt.

“No!” I screamed. “Please…you can’t…Mom!”

Hands dragged me away as the house collapsed in on itself, flames swallowing everything.

Everything.

___

I don’t remember deciding to run.

Only the woods tearing me open as I fled—branches cutting my skin, roots catching my feet. My lungs burned. My heart felt too big for my chest. The hum inside me rose uncontained now.

Images shattered through my mind.

Snow stained red. Howls splitting the night. A battlefield littered with bodies too large to be human.

Then came a man’s voice—low, steady.

“Don’t cry, little wolf.”

Strong arms lifted me, the scent of blood and frost clinging to him.

“Sleep,” he murmured. “When you wake, it will be over.”

Another voice added—fierce, trembling with love.

“They’ll hunt her.”

“Not if she forgets.”

My real father knelt before me, eyes glowing like dying stars. His hands pressed to my forehead, power burning—gentle and devastating all at once.

“Seal her,” he said. “Seal her power. Her scent. Let her forget.”

Pain split my skull and my legs gave out.

As darkness claimed me, the hum inside me finally broke free—furious, awake.

And then—

Nothing.