Lyra's Books Novels & Stories

“Because we burned the records. To prevent the Sovereign’s kind from ever finding it.” “And now?” Lyra asked. Ysara turned to Iris. The child met her gaze, calm as still water. “The seals call to her,” Ysara whispered. “And if the second opens… nothing you’ve faced so far will compare.” --- That night, Lyra stood at the edge of the northern cliffs. Kaelen found her there, as always. “You knew it wasn’t over,” he said. She didn’t answer. “You always knew,” he said again.

And I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Kael is the more restless of the two. He burns bright and loud—always lighting things up, reaching out with chubby fingers like he’s trying to touch the sky. Lyra, on the other hand, is calm and dreamy. But when she lets her powers loose, the wind rattles every window in the wing. In between palace meetings and soothing elemental tantrums, I write. I write little stories just for them.

“I know what packs do. Women have told me as I’ve tried to help them give birth. They make you believe the only thing you’re good for is making babies, so you don’t think twice about getting pregnant.” Lyra shakes her head. “You know I don’t believe the only thing I’m good for is making babies,” she says. “I’m good for lots of things. And I know it. I’m a fighter. I’m a powerful Moon Caster. Plus, you guys love me.” She’s right. Still, Milo’s words have shaken me even more. “Remember when we met Milo?” I ask Lyra. “It won’t be like that for me,” she says positively, anticipating what I’m going to say.

Lyra — Age 6 Blackwood Pack Territory, Alaska Night after night, the dreams returned, unrelenting as the arctic tide. That was the first truth Lyra grasped. The second was that she did not want them to cease. At six years old, she already knew Alaska kept certain things immutable: the hush of fresh snow, the weight of silence draping the world, the way people could stand shoulder to shoulder and still feel oceans apart. But this—this belonged to her alone.

Lyra was the only thing occupying my thoughts. But beneath , my analytical mind began to string the clues together, the abdnormal blood, the fact that she had been sleepwalking alone in the dead of night twice now. The heavy, suffocatingly dark aura that cloaked her whenever she was distressed, the memory lapses, the wounds that miraculously healed themselves within seconds., and that unearthly command in her voice that forced an Alpha to blindly obey her words. None of this was a coincidence, none of it could be overlooked. Something was profoundly wrong... and she didn't even know it yet.

“You didn’t.” “They fought. What did you expect?” Rage burned through grief. “I’ll kill you. All of you.” Daemon laughed. “You? A healer? You don’t have it in you.” “Then I’ll find it.” She bolted. Past wolves. Past fire. Into the dark woods. Daemon yelled behind her. “Let her run. She’s no threat.” He was wrong. The memory jumped. Months flashed by. Lyra alone in a cave. Ancient books scattered. Forbidden spells.

She was Kael's daughter and she was Selene's daughter and looking at her felt like standing at an intersection I did not know how to cross. I knocked once and pushed the door open. Lyra was sitting cross-legged on her bed with a book open in her lap. She was seven years old with Kael's dark eyes and her mother's absolute composure and she looked up when I came in without any surprise on her face. None at all. "She said you would come," Lyra said. I stopped in the doorway. "What?"

He looked at the Iron Book, then at the space where my father had been. Task Twenty-Two: Complete. “A masterstroke, Little Crow. You’ve traded a father for a Kingdom. But remember... the Shop never closes. And Lyra? She still has the silver coins in her heart. She isn't your sister anymore. She’s my new Apprentice.” I looked at Lyra, who was being carried away by Northern healers. She opened her eyes, and for a split second, I saw the grey fog of the Shop swirling in her pupils. The war for the throne was over. But the war for our souls had just entered its most dangerous phase.

Lyra My life is measured by the tick of a clock I cannot see. One. Scrub the floors until your hands bleed. Two. Keep your eyes on the ground so the Alpha’s daughter doesn’t see you crying. Three. Pray that tonight is the night everything changes. Tonight was the Moon-Binding Ceremony. In our world, this was the night your soul finally found its match. For ten years, I had lived as a "Rankless" servant in the Crescent Moon Pack. I was an orphan, a girl with no wolf and no power. My only hope was Caleb, the future Alpha.

“Jadis, ” “It’s okay, Lyra. Really.” She picked up her book with slightly too much force. “I’m just grateful to have a safe place to figure out what comes next. After all, I came here for a reason, and I’m not one to give up easily.” As I left the library, her words echoed in my head. Some people get fairy tales, and some people don’t. But something about the way she’d said it made me think she wasn’t quite ready to accept that reality.