under blackthorn protection

The temple bells continued to ring.

Their frantic toll echoed across the mountains. _Dong. Dong. Dong._ Fast and sharp and wrong.

It wasn’t the blessing toll. That one was slow. Deep. Reverent.

This was warning.

The sound rolled down the slopes and into the valleys. It warned every wolf within miles that something had gone terribly wrong. In the villages below, mothers pulled children inside. In the forests, hunting parties stopped and lifted their heads. In the seven Pack territories, Alphas would be hearing it now.

Inside the Moon Temple, chaos threatened to spill over.

It was in the way people moved. Too fast. Too sharp. The way voices rose half an octave. The way no one was looking at each other in the eyes anymore.

"Seal every entrance!" one captain shouted. His voice cracked on the last word.

"No one leaves!"

Blackthorn guards rushed toward the massive silver doors. Their boots were loud on the marble. They moved in pairs, checking each handle, each lock. The doors were ancient. Carved with wolves and moons and thorns. They took two men to push closed.

While they worked, priests hurried frightened families toward the outer halls. Women clutching children. Old wolves leaning on staffs. Young wolves with wide eyes who had come for blessings and found blood instead.

"Keep moving," a priest urged. "To the side halls. Away from the doors."

Lyra remained rooted to the marble floor.

Her feet felt like they were made of stone.

Everything had happened too quickly. The mark. The crest. The gasps. The dagger.

Only an hour ago, she had climbed these steps believing she was nothing more than an orphan hoping to receive a blessing. She had tied her hair back with the same faded ribbon. She had mended the tear in her sleeve that morning. She had been thinking about whether there would be bread at Grey Hollow tonight.

Now...

An assassin had come for her.

The thought refused to feel real.

It was too big. Too large to fit in her head next to all the other small thoughts she had about soup and thread and cold mornings.

Kael stepped in front of her.

She hadn’t seen him move. One second he was across from her. The next his broad shoulders blocked the frightened crowd from her view.

He was tall. Taller than the guards. Taller than most of the Alphas. His black ceremonial robe made him look like a wall.

"Stay behind me."

His voice was calm.

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t comforting.

It was simply certain. Like he was stating a fact.

Lyra obeyed without thinking.

She took half a step back. Her back was almost to the pillar behind her. She could feel the cold of the stone through her cloak.

The High Priest bent to retrieve the dagger.

His movements were slow. Deliberate. The bells were still ringing but he acted like he didn’t hear them.

He picked it up by the black cloth. He didn’t touch the blade. He studied the black crescent engraved into its silver surface. The lines were clean. Precise.

His face hardened. The lines around his mouth deepened.

"This wasn't carried by an ordinary killer."

His voice was quiet but it carried.

One of the elders near the altar whispered a prayer beneath his breath. Lyra couldn’t hear the words. Just the rhythm of them.

Another elder, an old woman with white hair, quietly made the sign of the moon. Two fingers to her forehead, then her heart.

Across the temple, the other Alphas watched without speaking.

Alpha of Emberfang with his red and gold.

Alpha of Tideclaw in blue.

Alpha of Frostfang in white.

Alpha of Silverwood.

Alpha of Golden Plains.

Alpha of Shadowmoon in deep purple.

None of them looked surprised.

That was what scared Lyra the most. No shock. No confusion.

They looked...

Concerned.

As if this attack meant something far greater than one frightened girl standing on the marble floor.

Lady Selene descended the temple steps with perfect composure.

Her black and silver gown didn’t wrinkle. Her hair didn’t move. Each step was measured.

If anyone looked closely, they would notice how tightly she clasped her hands together in front of her. The knuckles were white.

But no one did. Everyone was looking at the doors. At the guards. At the dagger.

She stopped beside Kael. Close enough that her shoulder almost touched his.

"The temple isn't safe anymore."

Her voice was calm. Perfectly calm.

Kael didn't look at her. His eyes were still on the doors. On the guards moving.

"I know."

"We should return to Blackthorn Keep immediately."

There was urgency under the calm now. Just a hint.

For the first time since the ceremony began, Kael turned toward her.

His golden eyes met hers.

"Our first concern is discovering how an assassin entered the Moon Temple."

The words landed heavy.

A flicker crossed Selene's face.

It was there and gone in half a second. A tightening around the eyes.

"You suspect someone inside?"

Kael’s expression didn’t change. "I suspect nothing."

He turned his head. His golden eyes swept across the room. Over the guards. Over the priests. Over the other Alphas. Over the nobles pressed against the walls.

"I'm simply asking the question everyone else is avoiding."

The temple grew quieter.

Even the bells outside seemed to dull for a second.

Several guards exchanged uneasy glances. One of them looked at the floor. Another shifted his weight.

Lyra wrapped her arms around herself.

She felt completely out of place. Like she was standing in the middle of a room where everyone knew the rules except her.

Everyone around her spoke in half-finished sentences.

"Did you see—"

"After what happened—"

"It can't be—"

They all seemed to understand pieces of a story she had never heard.

Pieces about crests and assassinations and nineteen years ago.

She understood none of it.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice was small against the bells.

"What is the Royal Moon Crest?"

Silence.

It fell instantly. Like someone had thrown a blanket over the room.

Even the bells outside seemed farther away. Muffled.

The High Priest looked at Kael.

Kael looked back at the High Priest.

Neither answered.

The quiet stretched.

That frightened Lyra more than any explanation could have. The fact that they wouldn’t say it. That it was that bad.

Suddenly—

A young guard ran into the hall.

His armor was dented. His face was flushed. He was breathing hard.

"Alpha!"

He stopped in the middle of the floor. Bent over to catch his breath. His hands on his knees.

Kael turned. Fully. His body moved between Lyra and the guard without him looking at her.

"And?"

The guard straightened. He held up a small leather pouch. It was dark. Stained.

"It was hidden inside his cloak."

He walked forward and held it out. His hand was shaking.

The pouch was stained with blood. Not a lot. Just a smear across the seam.

The High Priest carefully took it. He didn’t open it right away. He held it in both hands like it might break.

Inside...

He opened the tie. Slowly.

The bells kept ringing.

He tipped the pouch over his palm.

A single silver coin fell out.

It hit his hand with a soft sound.

One side bore the symbol of the Moon Temple. The crescent and the circle.

The High Priest stared at the coin.

The color drained from his face.

"This..."

His voice barely carried.

"This coin was minted for the Blackthorn royal household."

A murmur swept through the temple.

Without another word, he stepped toward Kael and placed the coin into his open palm.

"Alpha... this belongs to your House."

Kael lowered his eyes to the coin. His fingers slowly curled around it.

The metal felt cold.

Too cold.

He lifted his gaze not toward Lyra, not toward the priests—but toward the Blackthorn nobles gathered inside the temple.

For the first time... His jaw tightened.

His eyes went flat.

The room fell silent again.

Deeper this time.

Someone inside Blackthorn...

Had paid the assassin.

The thought moved through the temple without anyone saying it.

Kael slowly lifted his eyes.

Not toward Lyra.

Not toward the priests.

Not toward the dagger on the floor.

Toward his own people.

Toward the Blackthorn guards standing at the doors.

Toward the nobles in Blackthorn colors.

Toward Lady Selene who was still standing beside him.

And for the first time...

His jaw tightened.

His eyes went flat.

Kael slowly closed his hand around the coin.

"Prepare the carriage."

His voice was calm.

"We're returning to Blackthorn Keep."

His gaze swept across the temple.

"From this moment on, no one is to be alone with Lyra."

Hidden among the frightened nobles...

One pair of eyes watched Lyra disappear behind the Blackthorn guards.

The stranger lowered his head.

Then, so briefly no one noticed...

He smiled.

The bells didn’t stop.