CHAPTER EIGHT

Lyra’s pov

I sat still on the bench, my hands gripping the edge tighter than necessary as I stared at Garrick. I wasn’t sure what I expected him to say, but it certainly wasn’t what I heard next.

“There was a time,” he began, settling onto the other end of the bench, “when Moonstone and Shadowfang weren’t enemies.”

My head snapped toward him.

“We coexisted,” he continued, watching the flow of the glowing stream as if the memory lived in its currents. “Our packs were different, yes—Moonstone, proud and structured; Shadowfang, free and in tune with nature—but there was peace. Trade routes, alliances… even inter-pack bonds.”

I blinked slowly. This couldn’t be real.

“Then what happened?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

His jaw clenched. “Betrayal.”

The weight of that word settled deep in my chest.

“It happened centuries ago. The Alpha of Moonstone at the time—King Aiden's great, great, great, gandfather—wanted more territory. Shadowfang had vast lands rich with resources. Magic flowed stronger here, tied to the forest itself. We lived with the land, not over it. It made our wolves... different.”

Garrick’s gaze turned toward the distant treetops as if seeing something far away. “They called us savages for it. ‘Wildlings.’ Said our closeness to nature made us unstable. Dangerous.”

He let out a breath. “One night, under the pretense of diplomacy, Moonstone envoys came to negotiate a new treaty. Instead, they slaughtered everyone at the gathering. Elders. Children. Warriors with no weapons drawn.”

I covered my mouth, nausea twisting in my gut.

“They attacked our villages next, catching us off guard. It was a massacre. Blood soaked the roots of these trees, Lyra. And they didn’t stop until we were all but driven out.”

“But… why?” I asked, stunned. “That’s not the Moonstone I know—”

“That’s because you were raised on lies,” he cut in gently, but firmly. “Your people built their throne on the bones of those they betrayed. And when we ran—what choice did we have?—they labeled us rogues. Said we lost our minds. Became cursed.”

I shivered.

He looked at me. “But we didn’t lose our minds, Lyra. We lost our homes.”

I sat there frozen, trying to process everything. “Then… how did you survive?”

He exhaled slowly, eyes darkening. “Because of him.”

I tilted my head. “Who?”

“The greatest wolf we’ve ever known. The first Alpha to truly unite us. He was called Shadowfang, after the midnight-black color of his fur and the way he moved in battle—like a shadow, striking like a fang. He was massive, Lyra. Strong. Smart. The kind of wolf even Moonstone warriors feared.”

I leaned closer, heart in my throat.

“He gave his life to save us. When we were cornered—no escape, hunted like prey—he performed a ritual, deep in the heart of this forest. A blood-binding sacrifice. Legend says the earth shook as he howled for the last time. And then…”

Garrick’s eyes flicked upward.

“…the forest answered.”

I followed his gaze to the swaying branches above. There was a presence here, wasn’t there? A feeling I hadn’t been able to name before. As if the trees themselves watched. Listened.

“Roots rose from the earth. Trees bent to shield us. Fog blanketed the land, hiding us from our hunters. We escaped across a hidden path only the forest revealed… and when Moonstone tried to follow, they didn’t make it ten steps.”

“Why?” I breathed.

“Because Shadowfang’s spirit lives here now. The forest belongs to him. And it will never let another Moonstone warrior cross it again.”

Goosebumps prickled down my arms.

“And over the years, we rebuilt. We welcomed exiles and outcasts. Those banished unfairly or branded traitors. This kingdom is a home for those forgotten.”

I was speechless.

“And when Moonstone realized we’d survived… that we’d thrived... they sent spies. Scouts. None returned. Our warriors are faster now. Stronger. More in tune with the wild.”

He looked at me. “So instead of trying again, your rulers spread lies. Taught you that we were monsters. That there was nothing here but madness. Better to write history than own your crimes.”

My stomach churned. How could so much truth be hidden from us?

My whole life… a lie.

“And you…” he murmured, “you don’t even know the half of it.”

Before I could ask what he meant, something shifted in my vision.

I blinked.

Once.

Twice.

And then—

Crack.

A sound, not heard but felt, rippled through my mind like a door had split open.

Pain bloomed behind my eyes. My ears rang so loudly I couldn’t hear Garrick anymore. His voice became muffled, like he was underwater. The world tilted sideways, the bench swimming in my blurred vision.

And then—

“Soon…”

A whisper. Cold. Ancient. Right against my ear.

I gasped, clutching my head.

Garrick moved toward me. I saw his mouth move but couldn’t make out the words. Everything was wrong. Heavy. Spinning.

“W-What…?” I tried to say, but the word didn’t make it past my lips.

And then the world slipped away.

Black.