Cold.
That was the first thing Lyra noticed — but not the familiar chill of hospital air conditioning or metal bed rails. This cold smelled of dirt and wild leaves, of something alive.
Her eyes snapped open.
She wasn't indoors.
A roof of ancient branches towered above her, leaves veined with faint silver, catching light that shouldn't exist in a forest this dark. Mist curled over the ground like the breath of something sleeping beneath her.
Her heart kicked into high gear.This place wasn't Earth.Not any version she knew.
Lyra pushed herself up, wincing as her palms sank into damp moss. "Where… am I?" she whispered, but the whisper didn't even echo. The forest swallowed it.
Her last memory surged forward — the hospital, pain she couldn't block out, and then… that voice.
"Humanity failed.You alone remain.Prove they can rise again."
Her skin prickled. She hugged her arms to her chest as if that could protect her from the unknown.
Then — a sharp crack behind her.
Lyra's breath halted in her throat.
Eyes glimmered between the trees — not one pair, but many. Yellow, red, hungry. Something shuffled nearer, silent only in the way hunters could be.
She staggered backward, her boots slipping on wet leaves. No weapon. No clue what was stalking her. Panic surged up her spine—
A massive form dropped from the shadows, landing between her and the predators.
A wolf. But also unmistakably a man.
Thick black fur rippled over broad shoulders. His legs and arms moved like a human's — but clawed hands could tear through bone. His tail lashed once, a warning so clear even Lyra understood it.
His growl thundered through the trees, vibrating in her ribs.
The red-eyed shadows vanished, crashing away into the darkness.
Only then did he turn toward her.
Amber eyes looked straight into hers — sharp, intelligent, too aware. Lyra forgot how to breathe. He was terrifying… and at the same time, oddly reassuring. Like a storm that chose to shield her rather than strike.
"Human?" His voice was rough, as if speaking wasn't something he did often.
Lyra tried to scramble away, panic still screaming inside her. Her elbow smacked a root and pain shot up her arm. She winced — and saw his ears twitch at the sound. He stepped forward, slower now, sniffing the air like he could somehow read her fear.
"How are you here?" he asked. "All women are gone. Humans are gone."
Lyra blinked hard. "W–what do you mean gone? I don't understand! I just— I woke up here!"
Her voice cracked. Her eyes stung. She didn't want to cry — not in front of something that could rip her apart — but confusion and fear were finally catching up to her.
His posture changed instantly. His shoulders lowered a fraction, and those dangerous claws retracted. He… bowed his head a little. A gesture she recognized only as a show of respect.
"I am Ravian," he said. "Leader of the Ironclaw Pack." His voice softened. "I will protect you."
Lyra stared at him, her breathing uneven. Protect her? Why would someone like him risk anything for her? "Protect me from what?"
Before he could answer—
A chilling howl echoed, closer than before.Then another.And another.
The ground trembled beneath them.
Ravian's ears snapped upright. He grabbed Lyra's hand — surprisingly gentle, despite the claws.
"Nightshade Clan," he growled. "They hunt what they desire. And now… they will come for you."
Lyra didn't argue. Her legs barely kept up with his, but she clung to his hand like a lifeline as they sprinted between ancient roots and hanging vines.
The forest erupted around them — wings beating overhead, something hissing from behind, a roar shaking loose bits of bark.
"What do they want with me?" Lyra gasped, breath burning.
"You are the first woman to appear in a lifetime," he said, not slowing. "Some clans will protect you. Others will claim you — by force."
Fear twisted in her gut, but a spark of defiance lit beneath it.
She wasn't going to let anyone claim her. Not again. Not ever.
She tightened her grip on Ravian's hand, feet hitting the earth harder.
"Then they picked the wrong woman," she said, voice shaking but steady.
Ravian looked over his shoulder — surprised, maybe even impressed. A fierce glint warmed his amber eyes.
"Good," he said. "Fight. Live. And I swear — no beast will ever own your fate."
A blur of claws slashed from the brush. Ravian shoved her behind him, roaring with such force the trees shuddered. His strike was a flash of black steel and bone — and the attacker crumpled, still.
Lyra trembled — but not from fear.
From the realization that he'd just risked everything for her.
He glanced back, checking that she was unharmed. His shoulders rose and fell with adrenaline. "Stay close. We're almost home."
Home.
The word sounded like hope.
Lyra swallowed hard, nodding. She had no idea what this world wanted from her. Utopia? Punishment? Another experiment she wasn't allowed to understand?
But she wasn't going down quietly.
She would survive.She would adapt.And if the gods wanted proof… she would give them more than they asked for.