The escape had been chaos.
Lyra barely remembered the sprint through the forest, Cassian pulling her along as spells exploded behind them. Blood pounded in her ears, her wrists raw from the cuffs, and her mind—still spinning from Kaelen's return—was on the verge of collapse.
But she was alive.
For now.
They crossed back into rogue territory just as the sun pierced the horizon. The moment Lyra passed through the protective wards, her knees gave out.
Cassian caught her before she hit the ground.
"You're safe," he whispered, voice rough.
She clutched his arm. "No, I'm not. Not until this ends."
---
Hours later, Lyra stood in the sanctuary war room, fresh wounds bandaged but her heart still torn.
Seris slammed a scroll onto the table. "The Council declared you a rogue queen. They're branding all who aid you as traitors. The bounty's doubled."
Lyra didn't flinch. "Let them come."
Cassian leaned on the table beside her. "We're running out of time. If the Council aligns with the Northern packs, we'll be surrounded."
"They already are," Seris muttered. "We got word—the Duskfangs pledged their warriors to Elder Tavik last night."
Lyra turned away, pacing.
She could still hear Kaelen's voice.
"They gave me purpose."
No. They'd given him a leash. And he was too blind to see it.
Cassian's voice pulled her back. "There's something else."
He unfolded a faded parchment, old and brittle. "Mira found this hidden in the vault beneath the temple ruins. She says it called to her. Literally."
The symbols were strange—ancient runes, written in moonblood script that hadn't been used in generations.
Lyra reached for it, her mark burning faintly as her fingers touched the page.
And suddenly—
She wasn't in the room anymore.
---
She stood in a field of silver grass.
The moon above her was blood-red.
The wind howled through the air, whispering voices in a language she somehow understood.
A woman appeared before her.
Tall. Pale. Dressed in dark robes embroidered with stars.
The first Moonseer.
The ancient blood priestess of her line.
"You've come," the woman said, eyes glowing like frost.
Lyra swallowed. "What is this place?"
"A memory," the Moonseer said. "A warning. A prophecy that lives in your blood."
She raised a hand—and the wind died.
"The bloodline that was abandoned must rise. The bond that was broken must heal. Or the night will consume all."
Lyra frowned. "Heal the bond? You mean Kael?"
But the Moonseer was already fading.
"Three betrayals. Two bloodlines. One heir."
The wind returned—screaming now.
And Lyra fell backward into blackness.
---
She woke gasping, Cassian shaking her gently.
"You disappeared," he said. "Just… froze."
Lyra's skin was icy. "The prophecy."
"What did it say?"
She hesitated. "That the bond must heal."
Cassian's jaw clenched. "Kael?"
She nodded slowly. "If I want to stop the war… I may need him."
---
Meanwhile, in Duskclaw, Kael stood before the Council once more.
Tavik's glare was sharp enough to cut steel. "You let her escape."
Kael didn't deny it.
"I had no orders to kill her," he said. "And I didn't know Cassian was waiting at the border."
Elder Nyra hissed. "She humiliated us in front of the allied packs!"
"She showed them she isn't afraid of you," Kael replied.
Gasps rang out.
Tavik stood slowly. "Your emotions are clouding your judgment."
"No," Kael said. "They're clearing it."
He threw a scroll onto the Council table.
"This is a copy of the old Moonseer prophecies. Lyra's mark activated it. You've known she wasn't ordinary. But you hid the truth."
Tavik's voice dropped into a low growl. "Watch your tongue, boy."
"I did. For too long."
Nyra leaned forward. "Do you question our rule?"
Kael met her gaze evenly. "I question your fear. Because that's what this is. You're not protecting the packs—you're silencing power you don't understand."
Tavik waved a hand. "Strip him of his title. Confine him until he remembers where his loyalty lies."
Kael's wolf surged beneath his skin.
But he let them drag him away.
Because he had a plan.
---
Back at the sanctuary, Lyra met with Seris and Cassian privately.
"The prophecy says there will be three betrayals," she said, pacing. "Kaelen was the first."
Cassian folded his arms. "Then there are two more. One of them is still inside these walls."
Seris nodded. "Rika hasn't returned from the border watch. No word. Nothing."
Lyra's eyes narrowed. "She's the second."
Seris hesitated. "There's more. We found a spy stone hidden in the temple archives—coded to Rika's blood. She's been feeding information to someone."
Lyra's hand clenched into a fist. "She's working with the Council."
Cassian stepped forward. "What do you want to do?"
"We prepare for her return," Lyra said. "And we make sure the third betrayal doesn't come from someone we trust again."
---
That night, Rika returned—looking tired, dusty, and perfectly casual.
Too casual.
Lyra was waiting for her in the sanctum chamber.
Rika froze when she saw her. "Alpha. I didn't expect—"
"Save it," Lyra said, her voice flat. "You've been lying."
Rika's expression shifted. Just slightly. "I don't know what you mean."
"You've been talking to the Council. Feeding them movements. Strategy. Everything."
Rika's eyes darkened. "I only told them what they needed to hear. I was buying us time."
"You lied," Lyra snapped. "To me. To this pack."
"They would have killed us all," Rika said. "I made a deal."
Lyra stepped forward. "You don't make deals with executioners."
Cassian entered then, blocking the exit.
Rika looked between them—and her hand moved toward her blade.
Lyra was faster.
She struck with her palm, sending a pulse of power into Rika's chest that knocked her flat.
Rika groaned, rolling onto her side. "They'll come for you. With fire and blood. You're already losing—"
"No," Lyra said. "I'm starting."
Cassian dragged her away.
And the second betrayal was ended.
---
Far away, in a prison cell beneath the Duskclaw citadel, Kael sat against the wall, silent.
He could still feel her.
Lyra.
Her energy pulsing faintly through the bond.
His fingers traced the mark over his chest—the one that hadn't faded even after rejection.
He closed his eyes.
And he made a decision.
He would break out.
Not for the Council.
Not for the war.
But for her.