Chapter 7: The Heir in the Shadows

The blade against Lyra’s throat was cold.

The blood from the shallow cut slid beneath her collar, warm against her skin. Behind her, Adrian Blackthorn held her with one arm locked around her waist, while the other kept the silver dagger pressed beneath her jaw.

Across the archive, Ethan stood motionless.

His eyes were fixed on Adrian’s face.

“No,” he said again.

Adrian smiled. “That is all you have to say after three years?”

Ethan’s hands curled into fists.

“Adrian died at the northern border.”

“That is what they wanted you to believe.”

“The patrol found your body.”

“They found someone wearing my cloak.”

“Your wolf disappeared.”

Adrian’s smile faded.

“My wolf was buried beneath a mountain of betrayal.”

Lyra tried to move, but the blade pressed harder.

“Tell him to lower his weapon,” Adrian whispered beside her ear.

Ethan’s gaze shifted to the knife.

“Release Lyra.”

“Lower your aura first.”

Ethan did not move.

“Adrian,” Lyra said carefully, “if you wanted Ethan dead, you would have attacked already.”

His arm tightened around her waist.

“You still analyze every situation as if intelligence can save you.”

“It has saved me before.”

“It did not save you from exile.”

“No. Your allies did that.”

For a moment, his grip became almost painful.

Ethan took one step forward.

Adrian dragged Lyra backward.

“Stop,” he warned.

Ethan froze.

The tension between the two men filled the archive. Their scents collided—Ethan’s smoky, powerful dominance against Adrian’s colder scent of pine and winter iron.

Lyra’s wolf shuddered.

Something about Adrian’s presence felt familiar.

Not safe.

Familiar.

She had known him before the betrayal, before the blood oath, before Ethan had dragged her back to the Moon Shadow fortress.

He had been Ethan’s closest friend.

The pack had celebrated him as a hero.

Then he had vanished.

“You were there the night Clara collapsed,” Lyra said.

Adrian’s eyes lowered to her.

“Yes.”

Ethan’s head snapped toward him.

“What?”

Adrian’s smile returned.

“I was in the western wing.”

“You said you were patrolling the border.”

“I lied.”

Ethan’s aura surged.

The archive trembled. Dust fell from the shelves.

Adrian pressed the dagger to Lyra’s neck.

“Control yourself, Alpha.”

Ethan forced the power back, but his eyes remained black around the edges.

“Why were you there?” he demanded.

“To stop the poisoning.”

Lyra’s heart stuttered.

“You knew?”

“I knew someone was preparing to poison Clara. I arrived too late.”

“Then why didn’t you expose the culprit?”

Adrian looked at her.

“Because the culprit was already standing beside the victim.”

Lyra felt the old wound open.

“You’re saying I poisoned Clara?”

“I’m saying the person who did it wore your scent.”

“That is not proof.”

“No,” he agreed. “It is not.”

For the first time, uncertainty crossed his face.

Lyra noticed.

“You don’t believe I did it.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened.

“I believe you were framed.”

Ethan stepped forward again.

“Then why did you allow the Council to condemn her?”

Adrian’s gaze turned toward him.

“Because I was trying to uncover the person behind it.”

“For three years?”

“For three years, your Council hunted me. Your soldiers searched every border. Your father sent assassins after me.”

“My father is dead.”

“Dead men leave orders behind.”

Ethan’s face became grim.

Lyra’s attention moved to the papers on the table.

The surviving heir.

Adrian Blackthorn.

The blood mark on his wrist.

“Why does that symbol appear on you?” she asked.

Adrian looked down at the glowing mark.

“Because I carry the original Moon-Bound bloodline.”

Ethan’s expression hardened.

“That bloodline ended with the old Alpha.”

“No. It was hidden.”

“From whom?”

“From your father.”

Adrian’s eyes sharpened.

“Your father stole the throne. My father was the rightful heir.”

Ethan’s voice dropped to a growl.

“You are claiming that my family murdered yours?”

“I am not claiming it.”

Adrian turned Lyra slightly, forcing her to face the old records.

“I am showing you.”

He nodded toward the papers.

Lyra read the oldest document.

It described a blood oath between two families—the Blackthorns and the Moon Shadow line. The Blackthorn heir was supposed to unite with the Hayes line and inherit the throne.

Ethan’s family had broken the agreement.

The final page contained a seal stamped in black wax.

The same crescent moon pierced by three claws.

Lyra’s stomach twisted.

“That symbol was found in my room.”

Adrian nodded.

“Because someone wanted the Council to believe the Blackthorn bloodline was responsible.”

“Who?”

“Victoria’s father.”

Ethan’s eyes flashed.

“Lord Vale?”

“He helped your father remove my family. In return, he was promised a seat on the Council.”

Lyra remembered the vision—the silver ring with a black stone.

Lord Vale.

She looked at Ethan.

“You said your father never worked with him.”

“I said I did not know.”

“You knew enough to defend him.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened.

“I was a child when my father ruled.”

“You were Alpha when Clara was poisoned.”

His eyes met hers.

The pain there was immediate but quickly hidden.

“I was trying to protect Clara.”

“And I was the easiest person to sacrifice.”

Silence filled the archive.

Adrian’s grip loosened slightly.

Lyra felt it.

So did Ethan.

His gaze dropped to the movement.

Adrian immediately tightened his arm.

“Do not mistake restraint for trust,” Adrian whispered to Lyra.

“I don’t.”

“Good.”

Ethan looked at Adrian.

“What do you want?”

“My throne.”

“You have no pack.”

“I have an army.”

“Where?”

Adrian smiled.

“Under the fortress.”

A distant roar echoed through the stone corridors.

It was followed by the sound of metal striking metal.

Ethan’s warriors shouted outside the archive.

His attention shifted toward the door.

Adrian used the distraction to pull Lyra toward a narrow passage hidden behind the shelves.

Ethan lunged.

The blade cut deeper into Lyra’s neck.

“Stop!”

Ethan halted.

Adrian pressed his palm against the stone wall.

A section of the archive opened, revealing a dark tunnel.

Lyra recognized the scent immediately.

Moonflower.

The same scent she had followed from the master suite.

Adrian dragged her inside.

Ethan followed.

The stone door began closing behind them.

“Ethan!” Lyra shouted.

He reached the opening just before it sealed.

His hand caught the edge.

Adrian raised the dagger.

“Let her go.”

“Not until you enter alone.”

Ethan’s muscles strained against the closing stone.

“Adrian, if you harm her—”

“You will do what? Kill your brother?”

The words stopped him.

Lyra looked at Ethan.

“Brother?”

Ethan’s face was pale.

Adrian smiled.

“Now you understand.”

The door closed.

Darkness swallowed them.

Lyra heard Ethan strike the stone from the other side.

The impact shook the tunnel.

“Lyra!”

She twisted in Adrian’s hold.

“You lied about Ethan having no brother.”

“I said nothing about that.”

“You let me believe he was an only child.”

“Because the truth was not mine to reveal.”

“And now you’re using it to control him.”

“I’m using the truth to make him listen.”

He pushed her forward.

The tunnel sloped downward. Moisture glistened on the walls, and faint blue lights burned in shallow niches.

They reached a circular chamber beneath the fortress.

Several armed wolves stood around the room.

At the center was a stone table.

A figure lay on it, wrists bound by silver chains.

Lyra stopped.

Her breath disappeared.

Her brother was alive.

His face was bruised, his clothes torn, but his eyes opened when he heard her.

“Lyra?”

She rushed toward him.

Adrian caught her arm.

“Careful.”

“Let me go!”

Her brother tried to sit up.

“Don’t touch her.”

Adrian looked at him coldly.

“You are in no position to threaten me.”

Lyra’s brother bared his teeth.

“I will kill you.”

“That is better than dying quietly.”

Lyra turned on Adrian.

“You said Ethan’s brother was alive. You said my brother was the heir.”

“Both are true.”

Her brother stared at him.

“What is he talking about?”

Adrian released Lyra.

She rushed to the table and gripped her brother’s face between her hands.

“Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“You were going to be executed.”

“I know.”

“Why did no one tell me?”

“Because the Council wanted me gone before you returned.”

Adrian walked toward a stone pedestal and lifted a sealed scroll.

“Your brother carries the last surviving Hayes bloodline,” he said. “Ethan’s bloodline is not pure enough to hold the throne without him.”

Ethan’s voice suddenly thundered through the chamber.

“Release them!”

The warriors turned toward the tunnel entrance.

The stone door exploded inward.

Ethan stepped through the dust, blood running from his knuckles.

His eyes were black.

His wolf had fully risen.

Adrian moved in front of Lyra and her brother.

Ethan looked at the prisoner first.

Then at Adrian.

Finally, his gaze settled on Lyra’s throat, where a thin line of blood marked the blade.

His aura filled the chamber.

Every warrior dropped to one knee except Adrian.

Ethan pointed at him.

“Touch her again, and I will tear your heart from your chest.”

Adrian lifted the sealed scroll.

“Then listen carefully, Alpha.”

He broke the seal.

“The Council has declared your rule illegitimate.”

Ethan did not blink.

Adrian unfolded the document.

“And at sunrise, the Moon Shadow Pack will choose a new king.”

The blue flames around the chamber suddenly turned red.

A horn sounded above them.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Lyra’s blood mark burned so fiercely she cried out.

Her brother’s mark answered from beneath his sleeve.

Ethan stared at the glowing symbols.

Adrian smiled.

“The Blood Oath has awakened the old succession law.”

He looked at Lyra.

“And because you are the last daughter of the Hayes line, you must choose which brother will rule.”

Lyra’s heart stopped.

“Which brothers?”

Adrian pointed at Ethan.

“The Alpha who destroyed your family.”

Then he pointed toward the tunnel.

“And the heir who was supposed to marry you.”

The chamber fell silent.

Ethan’s eyes locked onto Lyra’s.

Adrian stepped closer.

“Choose carefully,” he whispered. “By sunrise, one brother will wear the crown.”

He lowered his gaze to the blood on her throat.

“And the other will die.”