Chapter 4

Cassian

I’d felt it while still in the Dead Zones.

A sudden pressure in my chest as if the world had shifted her without asking me.

I’d tried to reach her, nothing but static.

By the time Thorneveil’s borders came into view at dawn, the pull had become a vice.

The first thing I noticed was the silence.

Thorneveil was never silent. Even at first light, the mountain breathed: patrol boots against stone, engines cycling in the lower yards, comms murmuring like distant insects.

Today, it held its breath.

The transport doors hissed open, and cold air rushed in—sharp with smoke and something far worse.

I stepped onto the landing platform before ranks could form.

“Cassian,” my beta, Rowan, fell into step beside me, armor still dusted with ash from the industrial frontiers. His jaw was tight, his scent rigid with restraint.

“We came straight from the Dead Zones,” he said quietly. “You should prepare…”

“I know,” I cut in.

The bond yanked hard then—sharp, directional—while my wolf surged beneath it, snarling for blood.

Lyra.

I turned without another word and started down toward the residential quarter. Rowan followed, pace matching mine, though I could feel his tension spike.

The smell thickened, ash appeared—uneven drifts clinging to stone, smeared by boots and tire tracks.

We didn’t slow until the house came into view.

Or what was left of it.

The structure had collapsed inward, roof caved, walls reduced to blackened ribs. Smoke still curled faintly from the wreckage, rising into the pale sky like a wound that refused to close.

Enforcers were already there. They were pulling bodies from the debris.

My steps faltered for the first time.

“No,” I said flatly, the word scraped raw from my throat.

One of the enforcers turned, face ashen. “Alpha…”

I shoved past him.

The first body was Lyra’s father. I recognized him by the ring, warped by heat but still clinging stubbornly to his finger. The second was her mother, hair darkened with soot, skin blistered and still. They were supposed to be under my protection.

I couldn’t find her scent. The bond inside me howled.

I dropped to one knee without realizing it, my breath tearing out of my chest in short, savage pulls.

I looked up slowly. “Where is she?” My voice didn’t sound like mine.

The enforcer hesitated, “No third body was recovered, Alpha.” he said carefully. “There is… no sign of Lyra Blackwood.”

I straightened slowly, the movement deliberate.

“Then tell me,” I said, voice gone cold, “what exactly happened here?”

Rowan stiffened beside me.

“Sir,” the enforcer said carefully, “there was an incident earlier in the town square.”

The sounds of the yard seemed to fall away.

“A confrontation between Lyra Blackwood and Miranda Vale. Miranda claims Lyra used force…unnatural force.”

The bond inside me recoiled violently. My wolf slammed against my ribs.

“The Council intervened,” he continued. “Lyra was brought before the elders.”

“And?” I demanded.

“She was declared a destabilizing threat. Stripped of protection and expelled from Thorneveil territory.”

The words landed one after the other, executed in all but name.

“The fire began shortly after her release.”

He ended after a pause too long to be accidental.

Something in me went perfectly still.

I turned to Rowan, “Seal this site,” I ordered. “No one enters without my authorization.”

Rowan nodded immediately.

The Council would move fast.

They always did—especially since my father’s death.

Decisions and verdicts made behind sealed doors. And Lyra had never belonged in their vision of Thorneveil.

___

The chamber felt smaller than I remembered.

Or maybe it was the weight pressing in from every direction—elders seated in their elevated ring, advisors murmuring behind reinforced glass.

I didn’t sit.

“You convened this council without me,” I said, voice carrying easily through the chamber.

“You were not reachable,” Harren replied coolly. “And the situation required immediate action.”

I smiled, though it felt wrong on my face.

My wolf pushed against my ribs, demanding teeth. “My mate’s home was burned to the ground. And you decided that in my absence.”

“The incident appears to be the result of… the human's instability,” an elder said.

My hands curled into fists.

“Choose your next words carefully.”

Silence pressed down, thick enough to choke on.

An attendant stepped forward, placing an evidence tray at the center of the chamber.

“This was recovered from the site,” Harren said. “Proof of the human’s instability.”

I approached the tray slowly.

Inside it lay a twisted section of steel—once a structural support beam. It had melted inward on itself like softened bone.

I crouched, ignoring the murmurs behind me, and lifted it with one gloved hand.

I’d seen explosions. Seen molten slag after wolffire and industrial strikes. This was… precise.

I dragged my thumb slowly along the warped edge.

“You claim this was human force,” I said, not looking up.

“Witnesses…” Harren began.

“Are unreliable,” I cut in sharply.

I straightened and let the metal drop back into the tray. It rang sharply against the steel base.

“Humans don’t shape energy like this.”

Silence spread through the chambers again.

Finally, Elder Malrec rose slowly—even when my father had ruled, his loyalty always pledged to the Council, never the Alpha.

“Your grief clouds your judgment, Alpha.”

“No, Malrec. Experience clarifies it.”

I turned away from the evidence.

Whatever Lyra Blackwood was—she was not what they claimed.

“Thorneveil cannot afford chaos. The bond between you and the human was already a point of contention. We acted to protect the pack,” he said evenly. “And now, we must stabilize leadership.”

I recognized it then—not instinct, but pattern.

They weren’t reacting to chaos, they were using it.

This wasn’t a council session, it was a transfer of power already decided, waiting only for my presence to legitimize it.

“You intend to crown me,” I said.

“Immediately.” Malrec replied.

I scoffed silently, “Without a Luna?” I asked.

Malrec’s gaze sharpened. “Until one is deemed suitable.”

My wolf surged forward, furious.

“If Lyra is alive,” I said, voice iron, “she is under my protection.”

“If Lyra Blackwood lives,” Malrec said, voice unwavering, “she is to be declared a traitor to Thorneveil. Her execution is mandatory.”

The chamber went still.

For a moment, I considered burning it to the ground.

Instead, I nodded once.

“So be it,” I said.

Shock flickered across several faces.

Malrec’s satisfaction came too quickly—and that was how I knew I’d won.

Let them think grief had hollowed me out.

A traitor would be hunted loudly, but a protected mate would disappear quietly.

I was crowned the next day. The Alpha mark burned into my skin as power locked into place, the mountain itself answering the claim.

Thorneveil bowed.

But the space beside me remained empty.

My wolf screamed at the absence, echoing through my bones like a wound that refused to close. An Alpha without a Luna was an imbalance—a living contradiction.

The day was finally over, the corridor leading to my quarters was nearly empty.

“Cassian,” Miranda said softly, stepping into my path. “I’m sorry... I can’t imagine your pain.”

I gave her a single glance, then stepped around her.

Her hand twitched, as if she considered reaching for me and thought better of it.

“You don’t have to be alone tonight,” she called after me, desperation finally cracking through her composure.

I stopped, then turned.

“You will not wear her absence like an invitation. And if you ever place yourself between me and the bond I still carry…”

My eyes locked onto hers, my wolf pressing fully to the surface.

“...I will remind this pack exactly how disposable Betas can be.”

Her breath hitched, her face drained of color.

I walked away straight to my room.

That night, I summoned wolves of my inner circle—operatives who worked beyond Council sight, loyal to me alone.

“The decree still stands,” I said. “Publicly.”

A flicker of surprise crossed a few faces.

“Privately,” I continued, each word deliberate, “you will find Lyra Blackwood, and protect her.”

Their attention locked in—predators recognizing a kill order spoken sideways.

Rowan hesitated, “if the Council finds out.”

“Let me worry about the Council, Rowan,” I said, voice breaking just enough to be human, “she comes home alive.”

They bowed as one.

Later, in my room, when the door sealed behind them, I closed my eyes, and let out a deep sigh.

Please hold on Lyra, wherever you are.

Because if the world had failed to kill you once, it would try again.

And next time, I would burn it first.