Lyra Goddess Novels & Stories

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.”

I had seven days left to live. My father was the God of War. My mother was the Goddess of the Harvest. I was born with divine power in my blood, meant to live forever. But I'd been poisoned by Godsbane, a toxin with no cure anywhere in the divine realm. I bore the pain and walked myself back to the temple, step by step. That was when my husband Caelum, the King of the Gods, returned. His face was serious. "Lyra," he said, "your sister Selene has collapsed. Her divine blood is completely spent. The Healer says she won't last the month. The only way to save her is a blood transfusion from someone of the same bloodline."

Lyra. The vision shifted. Fire. Blood. Malachor. The throne cracking. Her mother screaming and father fighting. Then the Moon Goddess appeared — a woman made entirely of silver light. She looked at Lyra. You have returned. Lyra stared. "Who are you?" The figure smiled. You know me. The vision disappeared. Lyra opened her eyes. The throne was glowing brighter. She cut her palm against one of the broken edges, and a drop of blood fell onto the Moonstone.

"Dear Alpha Adrian, I hope this email arrives at a good time, my name is Annalise and I am the Red wolf, graced into existence by the Red Moon Goddess. As you are more than likely aware, the warlock Balthazar is promising to share me as though I am some sort of prize. This can not be allowed to happen. I offer you my powers to help protect both yourself and your pack if you would be willing to aid us in the upcoming battle against Balthazar and those that follow him.

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

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."

Her hand drifted to her stomach, trembling as if the child could sense the presence too. I held her fingers gently, brushing away the tremor with a firmness that belied my inner panic. “I see her,” she continued, her voice growing stronger despite her weakness. “The Moon Goddess… she has come for me.” A soft, silvery light began to emanate from her, filling the chamber, radiating warmth and power unlike anything I had ever felt. Her aura pulsed, shining with divine intensity, illuminating the shadows of the room. My breath caught. Lyra’s face glowed, and her eyes, even in pain, reflected a clarity and strength that left me breathless.