UNKNOWNTwo days I have been watching Lyra on this grainy monitor. The video feed from her cell to my room was dismal, but just knowing that I was in the same building as her was enough to keep me going. Just like her other admirers, I had watched her grow from afar, not daring to enter her father’s circle. I knew that my pack rank would never be enough to secure her for my own. She is stronger now. The Lyra that I knew would sit in the back of a classroom with her eyes down, not daring to bring any attention to herself. This Lyra is bold and mouthy. Whenever Cain enters her room she refuses to submit to him. Even after he beat her she would still never submit. I was counting every mark that he left on her body and make sure that he paid them back in tenfold when I ripped control from their hands. Her cell door opens, and she does not even flinch as he tosses her tray of food on the floor. I silently pray to the Moon Goddess that she keeps her mouth shut today.

LYRAThe air is crisp and cool, and a thick layer of snow blankets the ground.  A full moon hangs low in the cloudless sky.  Gazing into the clear sky, I can see every star as they hang suspended in time.  It reminds me of the first night that I shifted.  The sound of snow crunching under approaching footsteps alerts me to the incomers behind me.  As I turn to greet those behind me, I am aware that the snow does not make a sound under my feet.  I am not supposed to be here, this is not my memory or my future.Three figures approach me silently in the dark.  Two of them I know immediately.  There is no mistaking Andrew or James.  As they come closer I no longer see the carefree wolves that I know now.  They both have aged.  Andrew’s dark hair is now peppered with silver streaks, his eyes have fine lines around them, and a scar runs across his right eye.  James’s normal military hair cut is long gone

LYRAI press my forehead against the cold marble of the kitchen island, trying to relieve the pressure that is building in my head.  Andrew and James have been pelting me with the same questions since I came down the stairs.  “I told you all I can remember,” I gently pound my head against the marble as I speak.  “Cain was definitely there when I was kidnapped, but there was someone else there too.”“Was it his father?” Andrew repeats for the thousandth time.“It did not sound like Edward,” I breathe in deeply trying to remain calm.Andrew is pacing the length of the kitchen and with every step is getting more irritated.  “Did you recognize the voice?”“I do not know, Andrew.”  I grit my teeth to keep myself from yelling.  “The voice sounded familiar, but it is not one I can place.”  I have been racking my brain for hours, trying to

JAMES Andrew and I are pacing back and forth outside of my bedroom door. The pack doctor chased us from the room when our hovering became “overbearing.” Every once and a while I press my ear against the door of my room and try to hear what is happening on the other side. Andrew occasionally leans against the railing and tries to feel through the mate bond to see if he can feel what is going on. But Lyra has her feelings closely guarded and has effectively learned to shut us out. Impatience and anger is rolling off of Andrew in waves, and I can tell that he is about to do something erratic. Just as he is about to explode, the doctor opens the door with a passive look upon his face. “Luna Lyra is going to be just fine,” he sighs, “but if we could talk some place private before I leave I think it would be for the best.”Andrew glances irritably into my room before nodding to the doctor and leading us both downstairs to his offi

LYRAJames slept in his own room last night, giving Andrew and I some space to say goodbye. I spent most of the night crying and begging for him not to go. A feeling in the pit of my stomach mad this excursion to find Cain feel dangerous and wrong. I tried to explain this feeling to Andrew, and he dismissed it, saying that it was the mate bond making me feel that way. But this feeling was deeper, but without a vision of the future I could not win. So, instead of spending our last night together in each other’s arms we spent it fighting. Every item I could get my hands on I threw across the room, aiming for Andrew’s head. But he skillfully caught each item and sat it down gently beside him, which only made my frustration grow. What was the point of being a Silver Wolf if no one would listen to reason? “Did you have a vision?” Andrew asks, rubbing the sides of my arms. “Is that why you do not want me to go?”“I do