Lyra Goddess Novels & Stories

“I ask not for you to give me love, but to bless the love that already exists. I ask for your recognition of bonds that were forged in loss and tempered by devotion.” A collective intake of breath from the crowd. This wasn’t the usual ceremony speech. “I am Lyra Reins, last of my bloodline, daughter by choice of the Elxra pack. And I stand here surrounded by the four wolves who are already my heart, my home, my everything. If you see fit to bless us, I am grateful. If not…” I lifted my chin higher. “If not, what we have is no less real, no less true, no less eternal.”

Isabella said, her eyes narrowing as they landed on me, and for a split second, I saw a flash of pure, unadulterated terror in her gaze before she masked it with a smirk. "This is Lyra, my new Executive Secretary, and she is the reason Elias Marcus is currently being fitted for a pair of handcuffs, so I suggest you keep your comments to yourself," Xavier replied, while he walked over to the little girl and knelt down to give her a brief, stiff hug.

The shudder that had run through her body when my teeth found the mark had nothing to do with acting. Something tugged at the edge of my thoughts. I crushed it. A fated mate. After centuries of silence from the Moon Goddess. After every healer, every oracle, every whispering courtier had declared me cursed beyond redemption. This woman appeared. Wolfless, ruined, carrying another man’s child. And the bond snapped into place like it had been waiting all along. The Goddess had a sense of humor. I didn’t share it. — LYRA He left. The door closed. The sound of his boots faded down the hall.

When her gaze met Elara’s, her eyes held a profound mixture of gratitude and a deep, shared understanding. “Thank you for inviting me,” the goddess said softly during a brief lull in the music. “After what transpired with Kaelen… I fully expected to be cast aside and forgotten. But you included me. You gave me a place in this. In your new beginning.” Lyra stepped forward, reaching out to pull her directly into their close circle. Underneath the canopy of swirling, enchanted flames, the three women stood together, an unbroken line. “You are not forgotten,” Lyra told her fiercely. “You are a part of this story now. The cycle is fracturing, for every single one of us.”

She sang not of preserving what was, but of believing in what could be. The black stone was no longer black. It was now a veil of green, shimmering light, and through it, she could see something moving. Something pulsing with a gentle, rhythmic light. The Genesis Seed. “Stop her!” Valerius screamed, his voice shrill with a fanatic’s panic. “Her blasphemy defiles the silence!” A Guardsman broke through the defensive line, his sword raised, aiming for Liora’s back. He never reached her. Lyra, who had been watching her mother with wide, awestruck eyes, suddenly stepped in front of her. She didn’t have a weapon. She didn’t need one. She opened her mouth, and a single, pure, high note rang out, c

“Take me instead. Please.” But the chanting continued. Lyra was shouting something underneath it. With my hand over my mouth, tears were rolling down my cheeks. I shook, torn between sadness and anger, love for the sister I once had, and horror at what she had become. The chanting grew louder still. The air thickened. And then there it was, somewhere deep into the hall, pulling me toward it, heavy and strong. The presence of the Goddess. Lyra’s body stiffened. Her screams turned to shrieks. “No! I won’t go! I won’t!”

Which made her far more powerful than I’d believed. She chanted as she moved, crying out to the gods to see this moment. As she finished the circle, the runes blazed and the drum paused, the hairs on my arms standing on end. A knife emerged in Lyra’s palm, and I tensed, for while she might need me, this lady harbored no warmth for me in her heart. “Freyja,” Lyra shouted out, voice carrying on the wind as it whirled about us, creating a cyclone of snow.

"I can't heal it, Enne." "What do you mean? I've healed many wounds worse than this before," she urged. Lyra shook her head slowly. "This wound comes from an ancient poison that can only be neutralized by the power of the moon. And only one person has it in this world." She looked straight at her granddaughter. "You." Enne stiffened. "Me? But-I... I'm just-" "You're not just Enne," Lyra said calmly, but firmly. "You are the last descendant of the Moon Goddess. I've known this since I meditated in Yelena Cave-seeking guidance from the heavens about the future of this pack and my own granddaughter."