Mag-log inNyra’s POV
I didn’t go home after Beverly finished with me.
I couldn’t.
Home meant my mother’s eyes, sharp enough to slice through any lie. Home meant questions I didn’t know how to answer. Home meant that quiet corner of the pack where pain echoed louder because nothing else lived there.
So I limped into the woods instead.
Night came quickly, the sky bruising purple, the air damp with rain waiting to fall. My ribs ached with every breath, and my side burned where her boot had landed again and again. Each step sent the same message through my body: you’re human. you’re soft. you’re breakable.
I hated that the pack could make me feel like a mistake in my own skin.
I hated even more that I still carried hope like a sickness I couldn’t cure.
The cabin sat deeper in the woods, hidden behind thick branches and climbing vines. It wasn’t mine. It wasn’t his either. Abandoned years ago, left to rot, and somehow it became ours.
A place for secrets.
A place for love that couldn’t survive daylight.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air was cold and stale, but it still held traces of him, pine smoke, steel, and something warm that made my chest ache.
I sank onto the edge of the narrow bed and pressed my yearbook to my lap.
The cover was bent. A smear of dried blood marked one corner where I must’ve grabbed it after Beverly kicked me down.
Graduation.
Everyone else would have pages filled with signatures and inside jokes and promises to visit.
Mine would stay blank.
I stared at it until my vision blurred, not from the ache in my ribs, but from the heavier pain behind my eyes. The kind that didn’t bruise, but still bled.
A sound outside made me stiffen.
Footsteps.
Fast. Controlled. Familiar.
The door swung open so hard it hit the wall.
Kieran stood there, chest rising and falling like he’d run the whole way, hair damp with mist, eyes darker than I’d ever seen them.
For a moment he didn’t move.
He just looked at me, like he needed to see me alive with his own eyes before his lungs remembered how to work.
Then he crossed the room in three strides and dropped to his knees in front of me.
His hands cupped my face, thumbs brushing the corners of my mouth with careful, trembling gentleness.
“Nyra.” My name came out like a prayer. Like a wound.
I flinched when his fingers grazed a tender spot near my jaw.
His eyes narrowed instantly. “They did this.”
“It’s fine,” I whispered, because that was what I always said. Because the truth felt too big to fit inside the room.
Kieran’s jaw flexed. His hands slid down to my wrists, as if he needed to hold me to stop himself from doing something violent.
“I heard,” he said, voice low, tight. “I heard what happened.”
Something in me cracked. “Did you?”
Confusion flickered, then guilt.
“Yes,” he said. “Of course I did.”
I laughed softly, and it sounded wrong. “No. I mean… did you see and hear what they said too? Or were you busy pretending you didn’t know me?”
His breath caught.
He looked away for half a second, and it was all the answer I needed.
Kieran leaned in, forehead pressing to mine. His hands slid around the back of my neck, holding me like he was afraid I’d vanish.
“I’m glad,” he whispered. “I’m glad you won’t have to deal with them anymore.”
The words should’ve comforted me.
Instead, they twisted something deep in my stomach.
“Glad,” I echoed. “You’re glad.”
He lifted his head, frowning. “That’s not what I, Nyra, look at you. You’re bleeding. You’re hurt. You don’t heal like we do. I can’t, ” His voice cracked, and he swallowed. “I can’t keep watching them do this to you.”
I stared at him, my chest tight. “Then stop it.”
His eyes widened. “I am trying.”
“No,” I said, sharper than I meant. “You try in private. You try here where no one can see. But out there…” I tilted my head, and my ribs screamed. I ignored it. “Out there you let them believe I’m nothing.”
Kieran’s face hardened, not at me, at himself.
He exhaled slowly, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a small cloth. He dabbed gently at the blood near my lip.
The tenderness made my throat burn.
“Promise me something,” he said.
I stared at him. “What?”
“Stay away from them,” he said, voice rough. “Stay away from the academy after today. Don’t go near Beverly. Don’t go near the training yard. Don’t, ” His eyes lifted, intense. “Don’t give them an opening.”
My laugh came out broken. “Kieran… they don’t need an opening. I exist. That’s enough.”
He went still.
Then his hands slid back to my cheeks, firmer now, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“You’re not thinking,” he said.
“What should I be thinking like?” I whispered. “Like an outcast? Like someone who should accept being beaten quietly so I don’t embarrass the pack?”
His throat bobbed.
I saw anger there, real anger, but not aimed at them.
It was aimed at the situation.
At the truth he couldn’t stand to say out loud.
My voice dropped. “Why did you pull away?”
He blinked.
“In the hall,” I continued, my mouth dry. “When you helped me up. I reached for you, and you, ” My fingers curled into my skirt. “You moved away like I was something you didn’t want to touch.”
Pain flashed across his face. “Nyra, ”
“Are you ashamed of me?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, ugly, raw. “Because if you are, say it. If you don’t want me, reject me. You’re the Alpha’s son. You can. You could’ve done it years ago.”
Kieran’s face drained of colour like I’d struck him.
He grabbed my hands and pulled them to his chest.
“Don’t,” he said, voice shaking now. “Don’t say that.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
His eyes searched mine like he was drowning.
“I pulled away because people were watching,” he admitted, and the confession hit like a stone. “Because if I held you the way I wanted to, if I touched you the way I touch you here, ”
“Then they’d know,” I finished bitterly.
“Yes.” His voice broke on the word. “And they’d destroy you even more for it. They’d rip you apart just to punish me. To punish us.”
I stared at him. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a bruise.
“You think you’re protecting me,” I whispered.
“I am.” His grip tightened. “Nyra, you’re everything to me. Everything. I can’t lose you.”
The words were exactly what I needed.
And they still hurt.
Because love that had to be hidden didn’t feel like love.
It felt like being buried alive.
“Kieran,” I whispered, “I’m already losing myself.”
He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. Then my temple. Then the corner of my mouth where the blood had dried. Gentle kisses that made my body ache with need and my heart ache with grief.
“I love you,” he said against my skin. “I love you so much it scares me.”
My throat tightened. “Then why does it feel like I’m the only one who pays for it?”
Keiran’s POVThe winged wolves still in the clearing rose into the sky, flapping hard, and fled, some toward the tear, some away from it, as if they didn’t even trust the opening anymore.We had won the ground.But the war had already reached town.My father’s wolf turned sharply, snarling orders through the link.WARRIORS, TOWN. NOW. AETHERFANGS ARE IN THE SKY. PROTECT THE BUNKERS. PROTECT THE CHILDREN.The name hit me like a slap.Aetherfangs.So they had a name.Which meant we were supposed to have known they were real.Which meant my father had known more than he ever said.My mother’s wolf struggled to stand, bleeding heavily from the bite near her neck. She limped forward stubbornly anyway, but two warriors moved to support her.Beverly finally crawled out of whatever cowardice had frozen her. She stood, trembling, fur bristling, eyes wild.She looked less like a future Luna and more like prey that had survived by accident.My father’s wolf looked back at the white wolf again.S
Keiran’s POVFor one heartbeat, the entire battlefield forgot how to breathe.Even the creatures from the tear, those scaled nightmares and winged abominations, paused like the forest itself had just recognised an older law.The huge white wolf stepped into the clearing fully, and the air changed.It wasn’t only the size, though my God help me, it was massive. It wasn’t only the fur, white and dense, gleaming even with blood and soot in the air. It was the way it carried power like it was not something it used, but something it was.Purple eyes swept the battlefield once, calm and merciless.And the enemy reacted.Not with bravado.Not with hunger.With avoidance.With instinctive fear.The nearest winged wolf, mid-dive toward a wounded Vandwood warrior, veered sharply at the last second, as if the white wolf’s gaze alone had burned it. It flapped hard, rising in panic, and in that same moment the white wolf moved.I had seen fast wolves.I had seen my father’s wolf in full Alpha fury
Keiran’s POVI sprinted forward, dodging a winged wolf’s dive, slipping between two battling pairs.Charles shouted after me, “Keiran, where, ”“I see something!” I snapped through the link, forcing my mind to stay sharp as blood and chaos tried to drown it.I reached the shimmering spot.Up close, it was undeniable.The air wasn’t air.It was a veil.A wound stitched into the world.And then it opened.Right in front of my eyes, the shimmer tore like cloth.A dark slit widened between the trees, revealing something behind it that wasn’t forest.It was… wrong-space.A depth that didn’t belong.Wind poured through the tear, cold, biting wind that smelled like burned stone and metal and distant thunder.And from that tear,Winged wolves emerged.Not one.Not two.A stream.They came through the opening like arrows released from a bow, wings beating hard, bodies sleek and predatory, eyes locked not on us,But on the sky beyond us.On the direction of town.My heart slammed.“No,” I growl
Keiran’s POVThe winged wolf slammed down too, its wing half-torn, and it scrambled to right itself,Marlow’s wolf was there.He didn’t hesitate.He bit clean into its throat and ripped.Black blood spilled.The winged wolf convulsed and went still.A cheer started through the link, brief, desperate relief,Then a scaled wolf barreled into Marlow and flung him sideways like he weighed nothing.The cheer died.My father snarled, and the line shifted as more enemies poured in.We were outnumbered faster than my mind could count.Every second, another creature stepped through the trees, scaled backs, winged shadows, eyes that didn’t belong on our side of the barrier.The forest filled with chaos.The sound of snapping jaws.The crack of bones.The wet thud of bodies hitting the ground.The scent of blood, Vandwood blood and something darker, colder, unfamiliar.“Keiran!” my father’s voice snapped through the link. “Left flank, keep them from circling!”I pivoted and drove myself into the
Keiran’s POVBeverly’s scream didn’t just slice the air.It poisoned it.For half a heartbeat, it froze the entire line, warriors, elders, even the wind itself, like the forest had inhaled and decided it didn’t want to exhale again.Then my father’s Alpha presence slammed into the silence.“Enough!” Alpha Ethan’s voice rolled through the trees, heavy as thunder. “No one breaks formation! Warriors, shift!”The command hit my bones like a drum.My wolf surged up from the pit of me, claws itching beneath skin, rage and instinct snapping to attention as the first scaled creature stepped closer, head low, eyes wrong.“Keiran!” Charles barked at my side. “Left flank, now!”I didn’t answer with words.I answered with the shift.Bones snapped, sinew tore and rebuilt, and the world expanded into scent and sound and blood-heat. My vision sharpened so violently it almost hurt. The damp earth screamed with the footprints of every creature that had crossed it. Fear was a taste now, thick on the ai
Keiran’s POVElder Maelin turned her head slightly, scanning the gathered warriors. “While you are at it, plan how you will correct the barrier breach,” she added, “because Elaine won’t help fortify that thing.”My mother’s eyes flashed with anger. “She has to,” she snapped. “It’s her duty.”Another elder, older, grey-haired, his scars twisting his expression, laughed in a way that made my skin crawl.“You can’t force her,” he reminded, voice thick with irony. “She has been shunned, remember? She has no obligations to carry out Prima activities.”My mother looked like she wanted to tear his throat out.My father stepped forward sharply, cutting through their bickering.“Enough.” His voice carried Alpha weight, heavy and unquestionable. “This is not a council debate. This is a breach.”He turned toward the officers. “We head to the outskirts. We stop whatever crossed before it reaches town. We do not allow chaos to spread.”A warrior raised a hand. “Alpha, should we, ”“We move,” my fa







