The scent of smoke lingered in the wind.
It was just past midnight when Lyra's nightmares became real.
She had fallen asleep in Alaric's bed again, his arm curled tightly around her waist, their breaths steady. For a moment, there was peace. Safety.
But peace was always temporary in Ravenguard.
A scream shattered the silence.
Lyra jerked upright, heart pounding. Alaric was already moving, pulling on his trousers and reaching for his sword.
Another scream closer this time.
Cassian's voice boomed from the hallway: "They're inside!"
Alaric was gone before she could speak.
Lyra scrambled for her boots, her dagger, anything that would make her more than just a target. When she burst into the corridor, flames licked the walls at the far end. Warriors clashed with dark-clad intruders. Blood slicked the stone floor.
But this attack was different.
It wasn't a siege.
It was a message.
And she was the message.
They found her in the western corridor.
Two masked men. Fast. Silent. Merciless.
Lyra fought. Blade in hand, instincts sharpened by months of brutal training. She took one down with a slash to the throat, but the second came from behind, pressing something cold and metal to her neck.
A sharp sting.
Poison.
Her vision blurred.
Voices called her name Alaric? Cassian? but they were distant, like echoes in a dream.
Then darkness swallowed her whole.
She woke to cold stone and iron cuffs.
Chains bound her wrists above her head. Her feet barely touched the ground. The air was damp and reeked of mold and blood.
A cell.
No, not just any cell. These were the dungeons beneath Iron vale. Ronan's stronghold.
Lyra's heart sank.
He had her.
The door creaked open hours later or was it days? Time didn't move here. Pain replaced any sense of rhythm.
Ronan entered wearing the same smug confidence she remembered, his dark hair pulled back, his coat immaculate.
"Well," he said with a wolfish smile. "You look more beautiful in chains than I imagined."
Lyra glared at him. "You'll regret this."
"I regret nothing," he said smoothly, stepping closer. "Alaric's pride made him slow. Predictable. You were always going to be mine, Lyra."
"I'll never be yours."
He reached out, brushing a knuckle along her jaw. "You don't understand yet. I'm not offering you a prison, I'm offering you power. Freedom. I'll unshackle you. Let you command armies. Be worshipped."
Lyra spat at his feet.
Ronan's eyes flared, but he didn't strike her. Instead, he stepped back and gave a lazy smirk.
"I like the fire," he said. "But you'll break eventually. They always do."
He turned and left.
The door slammed shut.
The chains rattled as Lyra sagged against them, her strength dwindling, but her resolve burning brighter.
She would not break.
Back in Ravenguard, chaos ruled.
The attack had been swift, brutal, and targeted.
And Alaric had failed to protect her.
He stood before his war council, blood still drying on his hands. Cassian was beside him, fury barely contained.
"They knew exactly where to go," Cassian said. "They bypassed every guard station, every trap. Someone fed them intel again."
Alaric's jaw clenched. "Then we find the traitor. And we bring her back."
A young warrior stepped forward. "Should we call on the Eastern Allies?"
"No," Alaric said, his voice a growl. "This is our fight. I won't owe favors for failing my mate."
Cassian turned to him. "We need to be smart, Alaric. If Ronan hurts her"
"He won't."
"You don't know that."
"I do," Alaric snapped. "Because if he touches her, I'll burn his entire bloodline from the earth."
The room went silent.
Then Alaric turned to Cassian.
"Gather the trackers. We will ride tonight."
Lyra had lost track of time.
She didn't cry. She didn't beg. She let Ronan monologue during his daily visits, knowing he was stalling for something, maybe for Alaric's surrender, maybe to use her as leverage.
But she watched. She memorized.
Guards changed every eight hours.
Only one key opened her cuffs.
And she was not alone in the dungeons.
On the third day, a whisper reached her from the cell across the hall.
"Lyra?"
She froze. "Who's there?"
A shadow shifted. A female voice.
"My name is Neris. I was once Luna of the Stormvale Pack."
Lyra's breath caught. "But they said you were dead."
"I might as well be," the woman said bitterly. "I refused Ronan's offer years ago. So he made me vanish."
"How long have you been here?"
"Too long. But I know the halls. The guards. The way out."
Lyra's fingers tingle. "Then help me escape."
There was silence for a moment.
Then: "Only if you promise to take me with you."
"I swear it."
Neris laughed softly. "Then listen carefully..."
That night, the escape began.
When the next guard entered to bring water, Lyra waited until he leaned in close.
Then she struck headbutting him with enough force to crack his nose.
Blood sprayed.
He screamed.
From across the hall, Neris whistled.
Another guard ran in, and Neris slammed the bars with her shoulder, distracting him just long enough for Lyra to grab the first guard's key.
Her wrists feel free.
Her knees buckled, but she caught herself.
Adrenaline surged.
She ran.
The halls of Iron vale were a labyrinth. Cold stone walls, torch lit passages, and the ever-present scent of death.
Lyra found Neris waiting in the corridor, bruised but smiling like a woman reborn.
"Come on," Neris hissed. "There's a servant's tunnel near the armory."
They ran, barefoot and fast.
But before they could reach the tunnel, the sound of boots thundered down the hall.
They were surrounded.
Ronan stood at the front.
"Disappointing," he said, voice like ice. "I was going to give you everything."
Lyra raised her fists. "And I was going to make you bleed."
He lunged.
But before he could reach her
A roar split the air.
Not just any roar.
A Ravenguard Alpha's roar.
Alaric.
He exploded through the corridor like a storm incarnate. Sword drawn. Eyes burning.
Behind him, Cassian and a dozen warriors followed.
Ronan faltered for the first time.
Lyra didn't hesitate; she ran to Alaric, who caught her in a bruising embrace.
"You came," she breathed.
"Always," he said, voice raw.
Behind them, chaos erupted.
Swords clashed. Blood sprayed. Ronan vanished into the smoke.
But Lyra didn't care.
She was home.