CHAPTER 3

The Truth About Lyra’s Bloodline

Lyra awoke to the scent of herbs and burning incense.

Her body ached, her limbs heavy, but the pain in her chest—the agony of rejection—was duller now, almost distant.

She blinked against the dim candlelight, her vision adjusting to the unfamiliar surroundings. She was lying on a soft bed, covered in fur blankets. The air was warm, carrying the faint crackle of a nearby fire.

Slowly, she turned her head.

She was inside an underground chamber.

The stone walls were lined with shelves filled with ancient scrolls and glass vials of glowing liquid. Intricate carvings decorated the ceiling, forming strange symbols she didn’t recognize.

And sitting beside her, watching her with piercing silver eyes, was the woman from before.

Elder Raine.

"You’re awake," she said softly, her voice filled with wisdom and something else—expectation.

Lyra tried to sit up, but her body protested.

"Where am I?" she rasped, her throat dry.

"You are safe," Raine reassured her, pouring a golden liquid from a small vial into a wooden cup. "Drink this. It will ease your pain."

Lyra hesitated but took the cup. The moment the warm liquid touched her tongue, she felt a surge of energy rush through her. The exhaustion that had weighed her down lightened, and her mind sharpened.

"Who are you?" she asked warily, lowering the cup.

Raine studied her for a moment before answering.

"I am one of the last surviving members of the Moonblood Clan," she said. "And so are you."

Lyra froze.

"What?"

Raine’s gaze flickered to Lyra’s wrist.

"The mark you bear," she said, gesturing to the silver insignia. "It is proof of your bloodline. You are Moonborn, a descendant of the lost rulers of the werewolf world."

Lyra shook her head. "No. That can’t be true. My parents… they weren’t special. My mother died when I was a child, and my father—"

Her voice broke.

Her father had never wanted her. He had left her to be raised by the pack’s caretakers, barely acknowledging her existence.

Raine’s expression softened. "Your parents may not have told you the truth, but your blood does not lie. The Moonblood Clan was wiped out centuries ago because of their power. The Bloodmoon Pack, like many others, were taught to fear us. To destroy us."

Lyra swallowed hard, her hands curling into fists.

"That’s why they called me cursed," she whispered.

"Yes," Raine confirmed. "Because they did not understand what you truly are."

Lyra’s heart pounded.

All her life, she had been weak. Unwanted. A burden.

But now, Raine was telling her she was powerful?

"Why now?" she asked. "Why did my mark only start glowing at the mating ceremony?"

"Because your abilities are awakening," Raine said. "The bond you shared with Alpha Damien may have triggered your dormant power. But it was his rejection that will push you to become who you were meant to be."

A spark of something dangerous ignited inside Lyra.

"Stronger than Damien?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Raine nodded.

"Stronger than any Alpha."

For the first time since her exile, Lyra didn’t feel like a victim.

She felt like something more.

Something powerful.

And for the first time in her life—

She embraced it.