The pack estate faded behind them as they entered the lower valley. Snow turned to stone, trees turned to ash, and the air felt heavier charged with old, unspoken magic. Lyra rode silently beside Kairo on horseback, the only sound between them the crunch of hooves and the slow, tightening pull between them. He hadn't said much since she insisted on finding the Flame Warden. But she could feel his tension like a storm waiting to break.
They reached a narrow cliffside, carved into dark mountain rock, veined with ember and gold. Kairo stopped, dismounted, and helped her down. His hand lingered on her waist, longer than it should have. She didn't pull away.
You really think he'll train me? she asked softly.
He trained Seraphine, he replied. Then killed three of the ones who tried to control her.
Lyra blinked.
Oh.
Kairo's lips twisted. He doesn't do small talk or mercy. Just strength.
And what if I'm not strong enough?
Kairo looked at her, eyes dark, unreadable.
Then I'll carry what's left of you back.
Before she could answer, a voice rang out from the shadows of the cliff.
You don't have to be strong to be dangerous, girl. You just have to want it badly enough.
A man stepped forward.
He was tall. Wild-looking. Eyes the color of scorched bronze. Hair silver at the ends, like it had burned and never grew back right. His arms were inked in symbols ,some familiar, some old enough to make her blood thrum. And around his neck hung a jagged shard of obsidian, glowing faintly.
So you're the fire child, he said. Your mother was louder.
Lyra stepped forward. You're her brother?
The man laughed, bitter. I was once. She died with that name. I go by Warden now.
He looked at Kairo, lips curling.
Still playing Alpha, boy? You bring me her daughter and think I'll say thank you?
She's not mine, Kairo said stiffly.
The Warden arched a brow. You sure? Because the bond says otherwise.
Lyra's heart stuttered. Kairo said nothing.
The Warden turned to her again. You want to learn the flame? Then burn. That's the only lesson I teach.
Lyra held his gaze. Then teach me.
Behind her, Kairo's jaw clenched.
This won't be easy, he warned.
Nothing about me ever has been.
The Warden smiled cold and proud.
Good. Let's see how much of your mother survived.
---
Later that night, as they set up temporary camp in the valley, Lyra washed her hands in the cold stream behind the rocks. Her fingertips still tingled with the Warden's first lesson a test of will. One that left her palms scorched and her pride bruised.
Kairo watched from the edge of the firelight.
You shouldn't push so hard your first day, he said quietly.
I didn't come to be coddled.
I didn't come to watch you break, either.
She turned to face him, firelight dancing between them.
Why do you care?
His eyes searched hers like he was trying to find the right version of her.
Because I don't know who I am without you anymore. And I hate that.
Her chest tightened.
Kairo, don't.....
He stepped closer.
I thought I could keep this simple. Protect you. Guide you. But you're not something to protect. You're something I want to worship and tear apart all at once. And I don't know what to do with that.
She blinked, stunned by the rawness in his voice.
Then don't do anything, she whispered. Just… stay with me.
A voice cut through the silence feminine, sharp, cold.
Still making the same mistakes, I see.
They both turned.
A woman stood at the edge of the clearing. Pale eyes. Jet hair braided with thorns. A long coat of raven feathers trailing the ground.
Lyra stepped back.
Kairo went still.
Hello again, Alpha, the woman said.
Miss me?