Semua Bab Lyra, His Second Chance Mate: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Kane's POVThe council chamber had once been a place of hollow rituals - a relic used by Alphas for posturing and pride.Tonight, it stood reborn.Cold stone columns lined the edges of the great hall, torchlight flickering against old sigils now draped in the silver banner of the Lycan Court. The crest of his bloodline - a full moon carved in metal, split by a single fang - gleamed at the far end of the chamber.Kane stood beneath it, dressed in ceremonial black. His coat was tailored and severe, lined in matte silver at the cuffs and collar. A symbol of the Moon’s justice was pinned at his shoulder - the sign of a Prince not born to posture, but to rule.The chamber filled slowly. Elders from three neighboring packs took their seats in silence, flanked by Lycan guards. Behind them came the witnesses, the loyalists, and the wary. No one spoke above a whisper.They all knew why they were here.Kane stepped onto the dais and raised his voice.“The trial of Alpha Caden, Luna Regina, Serap

Lyra’s POVThe frost hadn’t yet melted.Lyra sat on the window ledge, bare feet tucked beneath her, fingers pressed against the cold glass. Outside, the Blackstone courtyard looked unfamiliar. The banners were different now - silver and black instead of deep crimson. Kane’s crest hung from the main gates, the full moon split by a single fang.A mark of change.A mark of things she wasn’t sure she was ready for.Her reflection stared back from the window: pale skin, faint bruises still healing along her jaw, scars she no longer bothered to hide. She touched the crescent pendant resting against her collarbone.It pulsed faintly with heat. A reminder of what she’d become. Or maybe what she’d always been.But she didn’t feel like someone powerful. Not yet.She still felt like the girl scrubbing floors with bloody hands. The girl left behind."That isn’t you anymore," Thalia whispered quiet inside her. "We are not theirs. We never were."A knock broke the stillness.She tensed automatically

Lyra POVThe sky above Blackstone was a solid sheet of pale gray when the witch arrived.Lyra stood beside Kane at the front steps, frost crunching beneath her boots. Her hands were tucked into the sleeves of a soft charcoal-gray sweater Kane had left outside her door that morning - thicker and warmer than anything she owned. The scent of pine and leather clung to it. It felt strange wearing something that belonged to someone else, but she hadn’t taken it off. It was actually quite nice to sense this smell. His smell.The wind tugged at the long banners hanging from the stone arches. Kane’s crest. Silver and black. Moon and fang.They waited in silence until Thorne stepped out of the gate tower.“She’s here,” he said simply.A slender figure appeared through the mist moments later. Cloaked in silver and green, the hood drawn low. Her steps were silent, but there was power in them - not like an Alpha’s. Older. Wilder.The woman stopped just outside the gate. Kane stepped forward.“Val

Lyra’s POVMorning light spilled through frost-glazed windows, sharp and gold. Lyra sat up slowly, the pendant at her throat cold now - no longer pulsing from the night before. Yet she still felt it: the quiet weight of Kane somewhere nearby.She dressed and stepped barefoot into the silent halls, following instinct more than thought.In the training yard, she found him.Kane’s sleeves were rolled to his elbows, moving through sharp, precise sword forms. Controlled. Focused. Each motion flowed into the next - a dance of balance and restrained force. Her wolf stirred - not restless. Just aware.Lyra didn’t interrupt. She only watched.Her gaze followed the long lines of his arms as the blade shifted in his hand. Strong forearms flexed beneath dark fabric, muscles moving smoothly under his shirt with each swing and step. His movements weren’t about showing off strength. They were about control. Precision. Patience.And yet, there was power in it - undeniable and quiet. The kind that didn

Lyra’s POVThe morning air was sharper than usual. Pale sunlight slanted through the frost-blurred windows of Lyra’s room, catching on the stone floor and making the shadows seem longer.She sat on the edge of her bed, bare feet pressed against the cool stone, the pendant at her throat caught between her fingers. It felt heavier today - warmer, like there was something alive beneath its silver surface.But that wasn’t what woke her. It was the burning. A slow, crawling heat beneath her skin. Not pain. Not quite.Her breath caught. Lyra stood and crossed to the mirror above the basin, tugging the collar of her sweater aside with a sharp breath.And froze.Just beneath her collarbone, curling leftward, was a mark she had never seen before. A crescent moon, intertwined with symbols she didn’t recognize. Silver-white against her skin, faintly glowing as if lit from within.Her wolf stirred hard, pacing beneath her ribs. "It’s real. It’s ours."A knock broke through her shock.Lyra pulled