The battlefield was chaos, but Lyra could only hear the sound of her own breathing — shallow, controlled, coiled like a spring.
Her boots crunched over bloodied grass as she pushed deeper into the fray, Shadowfang a blur of silver in her hand. Screams and snarls rose all around her like a twisted orchestra, but her eyes stayed locked on the monstrous figure just beyond the smoke.
The Wolfshade.
His mount was a beast of nightmares — part stag, part hound, and far too large to be natural. Its eyes glowed with sickly green fire. And upon it sat her brother, Kael.
No… not Kael anymore.
The thing he had become wore his skin like a mask, but the soul behind those golden eyes had twisted into something savage and cold. Something ancient.
Lyra leapt from the charred remnants of a supply wagon and landed hard on the blood-slicked earth.
"KAEL!" she roared, her voice cutting through the thunder of war.
The Wolfshade turned slowly.
And smiled.
It was a cruel, knowing smile — one that reached his eyes with the cold amusement of a god watching a candle burn.
He dismounted with a graceful fluidity that belied the monstrous weight of his power. Around them, both armies clashed, but an invisible circle had formed — as if the world knew this duel could tip the balance of fate.
Lyra's heart slammed against her ribs.
This was no longer just war.
This was judgment.
"You shouldn't have come," Kael said, his voice distorted by magic and madness. "I would have spared you."
"You don't get to talk about mercy," Lyra hissed. "Not after what you did to Ashwood. To Mother. To Father."
His grin didn't fade. "They were relics of a broken time. I gave them release. And I offer the same to you."
He drew his blade — a weapon of bone and obsidian, black smoke curling from its edges. It pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
Lyra felt the pull of the moon above.
Felt the blood within her awaken.
Shadowfang shimmered with silver fire.
And then they moved.
Their blades met with a scream that echoed across the battlefield. Sparks rained around them as they danced — siblings born of the same blood, now wielding death against one another.
Kael was faster than before — faster than any werewolf should have been. The Court had remade him into something else, something unnatural. His strikes were precise, brutal, meant to kill with one blow.
But Lyra was not the pup he remembered.
She countered, pivoted, drove her blade along his ribs — a shallow cut, but enough to draw blood.
Black blood.
It hissed where it touched the earth.
Kael snarled and lunged, sending her flying back. She hit the ground hard, the wind knocked from her lungs, but she rolled and came up in a crouch.
"I don't want to kill you," she said, breathing hard. "I want my brother back."
Kael paused, just for a heartbeat.
His expression flickered.
And for a moment, just one, she saw it — the boy he once was, laughing in the summer fields, chasing fireflies with her under the moonlight.
But then the light in his eyes died.
"He died the day you chose Ashwood over me."
And with that, he charged.
Their blades clashed again with a shockwave that cracked the stone beneath their feet. Around them, the battle had become a blur — soldiers giving them wide berth as if the air itself refused to touch what raged between them.
Kael drove her back with sheer force, each strike heavy as falling trees. Lyra countered, using her agility, ducking beneath his swings and slicing across his side again. The silver edge of Shadowfang left a glowing trail across his flesh.
He howled — not in pain, but in rage.
"You think silver will save you?" he spat, blood splattering the ground. "The moon chose me, Lyra. You're nothing but a broken piece of a dying legacy."
"The moon didn't choose you," she snapped. "You took its power and poisoned it."
Kael lunged, transforming mid-air — his body expanding, fur ripping through skin, claws gleaming. His hybrid form towered above her, black as pitch, fangs bared.
Lyra leapt into the air to meet him.
The two collided midair, a shock of claws and blades. She felt one claw tear across her shoulder, but her blade plunged deep into his thigh.
They landed hard — Kael roaring, Lyra rolling back, blood streaming down her arm.
Then the world shifted.
Flashback: Years Ago – Ashwood Valley
The wind carried the scent of wildflowers.
Lyra, just sixteen, chased after Kael through the high grass, both laughing, careless and free. The moons hung above like guardians, and Kael turned to her with a grin that would never come again.
"Promise me something," he said, pausing at the crest of the hill.
"What?"
"When I fall, if I ever do… you'll remember me as I am right now."
"You're not going to fall, dummy." She shoved him playfully. "You're going to be the next Alpha. Everyone knows that."
Kael looked away, eyes darkened.
"Even stars fall, Lyra."
The memory shattered like glass as Kael struck her across the jaw, throwing her against a broken column of stone.
Now – The Battlefield
She coughed blood, head spinning. He stalked closer, towering, monstrous.
"I gave you a chance," he said, voice like gravel soaked in venom. "But you're too much like them. The old ones. Weak. Sentimental."
"You're wrong." She stood, slowly, sword dragging behind her. "I'm stronger than all of them. Because I remember what we lost."
She raised Shadowfang high — the blade pulsed, silver fire engulfing it from hilt to tip.
"And I will not lose you to the dark."
A pulse of energy exploded outward from her blade.
Kael was flung back, roaring, clawing at his chest as if something burned within him. His form shimmered, flickering between wolf and man, the corruption within him fighting against her magic.
Lyra advanced, steps slow, deliberate.
"Come back to me," she whispered.
But Kael laughed, bitter and hollow.
"There's no coming back, Lyra. There's only forward — through fire."
He raised both hands, and the ground split open.
From the crack surged twisted creatures — part wolf, part shadow, screeching as they rose.
Lyra stared in horror. The Court had twisted more than just Kael.
They had made an army of nightmares.
She turned, just in time to see Kaelen and Varra rushing toward her from behind the broken gate.
"Fall back!" Kaelen yelled. "They're breaching from the east!"
Talia's voice echoed from the towers: "Archers! Loose!"
But Lyra didn't move.
Not yet.
She looked once more at Kael — barely visible now behind the veil of summoned horrors.
"I'll find you again," she whispered, before turning back toward the battle.