The black water grabbed Lyra's ankle like a frozen hand. She gasped, trying to pull away, but the impossible liquid held tight.
Around her, pack members screamed and ran for the stairs as dark waves crashed through windows. "Lyra!" Her father's words cut through the chaos.
But it was Kael who moved first. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her backward with brutal force.
The water released its grip with an angry hiss. "Everyone out! Now!" Kael shouted, carrying Lyra toward the exit.
Through the windows, she could still see Elara standing in the rising flood.
Her dead sister smiled and waved like they were playing a game. "She's not real," Kael said against Lyra's ear.
"Whatever you're seeing, it's not real." But Lyra knew better. The river's threat was real. Elara's ghost was real.
And the bill the water wanted to collect was written in blood.
They reached the upper floors as the great hall flooded totally.
Pack members huddled together, whispering prayers and throwing fearful looks at Lyra. "This is her fault," someone whispered. "The curse followed her here."
"We should throw her back to the river." Kael's growl hushed them, but Lyra saw the truth in their eyes.
They blamed her. Just like her father had ten years ago. "My chambers," Kael ordered, half-dragging her down the hallway. "We need to talk." His room was huge and cold, with stone walls covered in guns.
The huge bed looked like it had never been slept in. Everything was beautiful and empty, just like its owner. Kael locked the door and turned to face her.
His gray eyes burned with rage. "What haven't you told me?" he asked. "I don't know what you mean."
"Don't lie! That river appeared because of you. My pack is in danger because of you. So tell me the truth!" Lyra's anger flared.
"I told you the truth! My sister drowned ten years ago, and I've lived with the guilt ever since!" "Guilt doesn't make cursed rivers appear!"
"Then maybe you should ask your precious Elder Voss! He seems to know more than I do!" Kael stepped closer, his presence filling the room like a storm cloud. "That old man talks in riddles. I want facts."
"I don't have facts! I have dreams and guilt and a power I never asked for!" Lyra held up her hands, still stained silver from touching the cup.
"You think I wanted this? You think I wanted to be dragged here against my will?" "Against your will?" Kael's laugh was bitter. "You're my mate. My Luna.
That's an honor most girls would kill for." "Honor?" Lyra's voice cracked with disbelief.
"You locked me in a tower! You let your pack treat me like garbage! You won't even touch me without gloves!" Something flickered in Kael's eyes.
Pain, maybe. But it faded too quickly to be sure. "I don't owe you explanations."
"Yes, you do! We're meant to be mates, but you treat me like I'm diseased. So tell me - why did you claim me if you hate me so much?"
The question hung in the air between them like a blade. Kael turned away, looking out the window at the black water still surrounding his packhouse.
When he spoke, his voice was cold as winter. "You want the truth? Fine. You're not my mate because I love you. You're a tool.
A way to control your father's pack and unite the regions under my rule." The words hit Lyra like physical blows. She actually stumbled backward. "A tool?" "The mate bond gives me formal claim to Silverfang lands.
Your father can't refuse my orders without breaking holy law." Kael's shoulders were rigid. "Love is weakness. Mates are political benefits.
That's all you've ever been." Tears burned Lyra's eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"So everything - the claiming ceremony, bringing me here, calling me Luna - it was all fake?"
"It was all necessary."
"And what about when the river takes me? Will that be necessary too?" Finally, Kael turned around. His face was a mask, but something dark flashed behind his eyes. "The river won't take you." "How can you be so sure?" "Because you're mine.
And I protect what's mine." "Even tools?" "Even tools." Lyra wanted to scream. Or cry. Or turn into her wolf form and tear something apart.
Instead, she did something that surprised them both. She laughed. "You're pathetic," she said, wiping her eyes.
"You think you're so strong, so controlled. But you're just a scared little boy hiding behind walls and guns." Kael's eyes flashed dangerously. "Watch your mouth."
"Or what? You'll lock me up again? Let your pack mock me? Face it, Kael - you need me more than I need you. Without me, you're just another Alpha with too much area and not enough loyalty."
"I said watch your mouth!" His Alpha voice slammed into her like a physical force. Any normal wolf would have submitted instantly, bared their throat in surrender. But Lyra wasn't normal.
The power in her chest rose to meet his challenge, silver energy sparking around her fingers. "Make me," she growled back. For a heartbeat, they stared at each other across the room.
Two predators trying who would strike first. Then Kael moved. He crossed the space between them in three quick steps, backing her against the stone wall.
His hands pressed against the cold surface on either side of her head, pinning her. "You don't know what you're playing with," he said, his voice low and dangerous. Lyra could smell him now - pine and winter wind and something darker.
Her heart beat against her ribs, but not entirely from fear. "Neither do you," she whispered back.
They were so close she could see gold flecks in his gray eyes.
Feel the heat coming from his body despite his cold words. For one impossible moment, she thought he might kiss her. Instead, a terrible sound filled the air. Scratching.
Like claws on stone.
They both froze, looking toward the window. The black water had risen another level, nearly reaching the second floor.
And floating in the dark current were dozens of pale shapes. Bodies. Just like the guard had said. But these weren't random drowning deaths.
Lyra recognized some of the faces - pack members who had died over the years, their eyes now wide and silver like Elara's. "They're coming back," she breathed. The scratching sound came again, closer this time.
Something was climbing the outside wall. Kael grabbed a silver sword from his weapon display, the metal shining in the lamplight. "Stay behind me."
But Lyra barely heard him. Because through the window, she could see Elara rising from the water like a ghost made of moonlight.
Her dead sister pressed her small hands against the glass and smiled. "Hello, Lyra," Elara said, her voice somehow clear despite the barrier between them. "I've been waiting so long to see you again."
The window began to crack. "She's not seven anymore," Lyra whispered, fear washing over her.
Elara's face was still young, but her eyes held ages of pain and hunger. Silver tears ran down her cheeks like liquid stars.
"The river taught me so much," Elara continued, her smile getting wider. "About death. About payback.
About the debt you still owe." The cracks in the window spread like spider webs. "What debt?" Kael asked, raising his sword.
Elara's terrible look shifted to him. "She promised to trade places with me. Sister for sister. Life for life." "I never promised anything!" Lyra protested.
"You did. When you begged the water to take you instead. When you screamed my name as I sank."
Elara's hand pushed through the breaking glass like it was made of water. "The river remembers every word." The window broke.
Black water poured into the room, bringing the smell of death and forgotten promises. Elara stepped through the hole, her bare feet making no sound on the stone floor.
She looked exactly like she had at seven years old, except for her eyes. Those silver orbs held venom that belonged to something much older and hungrier. "I've come to collect," she said sweetly.
Then she opened her mouth impossibly wide, showing rows of sharp teeth like a deep-sea monster. And she lunged straight at Lyra's throat.
Kael's sword swung in a silver arc, but the blade passed right through Elara's ghostly form.
She laughed like ringing bells as her claws reached for Lyra's neck. "You can't fight the dead with steel," Elara laughed.
"But don't worry, sister. Soon you'll understand. Soon you'll be just like me." The black water rose higher, and more pale forms began climbing through the broken window.
The river had come to collect its bill. And this time, there would be no escape.