CHAPTER 2

The forest felt different now. Lyra had walked these woods her entire life, trained in them, bled in them, learned every sound and scent and shadow, but ever since meeting Talia, the trees seemed to hum with a new kind of energy. Not lighter, not brighter… just different. It was like the forest recognised that something unusual was happening here.

She moved faster than usual toward their meeting place, her breath forming soft clouds in the cool evening air. She told herself she wasn’t eager. She told herself this was just another patrol, another border check.

But her heart betrayed her, beating a little quicker when she caught the faint trace of Talia’s scent on the wind.

She wasn’t alone anymore.

Talia was crouched in the clearing, her auburn hair pulled into a loose ponytail, as always, nose nearly touching the ground as she examined a patch of disturbed earth.

Lyra folded her arms. “Are you sniffing the dirt?”

Talia jumped, nearly falling over. “Lyra! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“You’re on neutral ground now,” Lyra said, smirking. “I can sneak if I want.”

Talia rolled her eyes but smiled. “Come here. Look at this.”

Lyra stepped closer. Talia pointed to the ground.

“Tell me what you see.”

Lyra crouched. “A deer passed through. Young. Maybe two hours ago.”

“Good,” Talia said. “Now look again.”

Lyra leaned in, frowning. Then she saw it, a second set of tracks, smaller, lighter.

“A fawn,” she murmured.

“Exactly.” Talia sat back, pleased. “Bloodpine trackers read the forest like a story.”

Lyra raised a brow. “Stormfall teaches tracking, too.”

“Not like this.” Talia nudged her shoulder. “You Stormfall wolves rely too much on scent.”

Lyra scoffed. “I use my eyes plenty.”

“Then prove it.”

Lyra narrowed her eyes. “Fine.”

Talia led her deeper into the trees, which were still within the neutral parameter, pointing out subtle signs Lyra had never bothered to notice, tiny scrapes on bark, bent grass, the faint shift of leaves. Lyra followed, absorbing each detail.

“You’re good at this,” Talia said eventually. “Better than most Bloodpine wolves I know.”

Lyra felt warmth rise in her chest. Praise wasn’t new, but this felt… genuine.

“Don’t get used to it,” Lyra said lightly. “I’m still better at fighting.”

“Oh, I know,” Talia laughed. “Which is why you’re going to teach me.”

Lyra blinked. “Teach you what?”

“Stormfall’s combat footwork.”

Lyra snorted. “It’s not like dancing.”

“It looks like dancing,” Talia insisted.

Lyra rolled her eyes but stepped forward, nudging Talia’s feet into position.

“Your stance is too narrow,” she said. “You’ll lose balance.”

Talia adjusted. “Like this?”

“Better. Now shift your weight…”

Talia toppled sideways.

Lyra burst out laughing. “You’re hopeless.”

“You pushed me!”

“I didn’t touch you.”

“You distracted me.”

Lyra offered her a hand. Talia took it, grumbling. “Again.”

They practised for nearly an hour. Talia was clumsy, too light on her feet, too easily thrown off balance, but she didn’t give up. Lyra admired that more than she expected.

Eventually, Talia collapsed onto a fallen log with a dramatic groan. “Gods, I’m too old for this.”

Lyra raised a brow. “Too old? You can’t be older than me.”

“I’m nineteen.”

Lyra blinked, shocked. “You’re nineteen?”

“How old are you then?”

“I’m twenty-five,” Lyra admitted.

Talia raised her eyebrows, then laughed. “Now that’s old.”

Lyra nudged her shoulder. “Hey. I am not old, thank you very much.”

“Why do you sound surprised anyway?” Talia asked, tilting her head slightly.

Lyra shrugged. “You just seem… older, that’s all.”

“That’s because of my pack status… I have an image to uphold.”

Lyra nudged her. “You mean being the Alpha’s daughter?”

“Yeah. You must know what it’s like.”

Lyra took a deep breath. “Indeed, I do.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, listening to the wind rustle through the trees.

Then Talia spoke softly. “Do you ever feel like… people expect you to be someone you’re not?”

Lyra looked at her. “All the time.”

Talia nodded. “Everyone sees ‘Alpha’s daughter’ and assumes I’m fearless. Strong. Perfect. But I’m not. I’m just… me.”

Lyra exhaled. “I get that.”

“I don’t even want to take over the pack,” Talia admitted quietly.

Lyra glanced at her. “You don’t?”

“No. I want to be important to the pack. But not run it.”

“I get it.” Lyra rubbed her shoulder, a comforting gesture. “It isn’t for everyone.”

Talia shook her head, then looked at Lyra. “I remember hearing stuff, your mother… she died when you were young, right?”

Lyra’s chest tightened as she nodded. “A rogue attack. I was eight.”

Talia’s expression softened. “I’m sorry.”

Lyra shrugged, though the ache never really went away. “I barely remember her. Just flashes. Her laugh. Her hair. The way she held me.”

Talia looked down at her hands. “My mother died too, giving birth to me, actually.”

Lyra’s breath caught. “Talia…” She couldn’t imagine it; it was bad enough only having little memories of her mother. But she still had them. And they will always stay with her. Talia has nothing.

“She never even got to hold me,” Talia whispered.

Lyra looked at her. “It can’t have been easy for your father either. Losing his mate, then having to raise a baby while being the Alpha, that seems a lot.”

Talia gave a small, sad smile. “She wasn’t actually his mate… She deceived him one night and then bam… she was pregnant.”

Lyra’s jaw almost hit the floor. “Holy shit. That can’t have gone down well.”

“Nope,” Talia said, emphasising the P. “I am pretty sure she would have been banished after I was born anyway.”

“Oh, Talia, I’m sorry.” Lyra put her hand on Talia’s arm. “No matter the reasons, you’re here, and your mother would be so proud of you.”

“Thank you.” Talia smiled. “And then we both grew up with fathers who expect us to be perfect.”

Lyra huffed. “Mine expects me to be a weapon.”

“So does mine, but I don’t have it in me.”

They shared a look, understanding, heavy and real.

Lyra hadn’t realised how much she needed someone who understood this part of her life. Someone who wasn’t intimidated by her title or her strength. Someone who wasn’t trying to use her.

Talia leaned back on her hands. “It’s strange, isn’t it? We’re supposed to be enemies.”

Lyra snorted. “We’re terrible at it.”

Talia laughed. “Completely hopeless.”

They sat together until the moon was high in the sky, a chill starting to set into the air.

Eventually, Talia stood. “We should head back before someone notices we are gone.”

Lyra nodded, rising to her feet. “Same time tomorrow?”

Talia smiled at her. “Of course.”

As they walked toward their separate borders, Lyra realised something unsettling.

She didn’t just enjoy these meetings. She needed them.

Talia was honest and a friend. One who saw her not as an heir, not as a weapon, but as a person.

And if anyone found out… it would be bad.

Very bad.