The border village burned.
Lyra smelled the smoke before the riders even reached the gates. The stench of charred wood, singed fur, blood. Her wolf surged forward, snarling with fury.
Kael was already there, astride his massive black stallion, barking orders to Shadowfang warriors. His blade dripped crimson. His face was a mask of control, but his aura seethed with rage.
"Rogues," he spat, dragging a fallen enemy aside. "They struck before dawn."
Lyra dismounted, skirts be damned, running toward the cries of survivors. Children sobbed in the arms of elders, houses smoldered, and warriors lay groaning in the dirt. She dropped to her knees beside a wounded Silverclaw, pressing her hands to his bleeding side.
"Hold still," she whispered, tearing fabric to staunch the wound. Her wolf lent strength, pushing healing warmth into her palms.
When the soldier's breathing steadied, she glanced up—and found Kael watching her.
Not with scorn. Not with disdain. With something closer to… surprise.
For a heartbeat, their eyes locked across the chaos. And in that brief stillness, Lyra saw him differently—not just an Alpha brute, but a leader desperate to protect, just as she was.
"Another wave!" a Shadowfang scout shouted. "They're regrouping in the trees!"
Kael drew his sword, his voice sharp as command steel. "Silverclaw, to the left flank! Shadowfang, with me!"
Lyra rose, blood on her hands, fury in her veins. "I'm coming."
Kael turned, brows knitting. "You'll slow us down."
"Try me." She pushed past him, her wolf snarling.
For a moment, he hesitated. Then, with a curt nod, he fell into stride beside her.
Together, they charged into the trees.
The rogues poured from the shadows, wild-eyed and feral. Kael's blade cut swift arcs of silver, his movements precise, deadly. Lyra fought at his side, quick and agile, her dagger flashing, her wolf lending speed. They moved almost in sync—an unspoken rhythm, her strikes filling the gaps in his defense, his strength covering her vulnerabilities.
At one point, a rogue lunged from Kael's blind side. Lyra leapt without thinking, driving her blade into its throat before it reached him. Blood sprayed hot against her cheek.
Kael froze for a fraction of a second, shock flickering in his eyes. Then he turned, cutting down another foe, his back pressed to hers.
When the last rogue fell, the forest rang with silence broken only by their ragged breaths.
Lyra wiped her blade clean, her chest heaving. "Still think I'd slow you down?"
Kael looked at her, sweat and blood streaking his face, his eyes burning with something unreadable. "You're reckless."
She smirked, exhaustion and adrenaline tangling in her veins. "And you're welcome."
For the first time, Kael did not answer.
For the first time, he looked at her not as an enemy.
But as someone he might have to respect.