FIVE YEARS AGO
Lyra stood in the great hall wearing a silver dress that didn't fit right.
Three months pregnant, though she'd hidden it well beneath the flowing fabric. Tonight was Ronan's coronation. Tonight he became Alpha.
Tonight everything would change.
She'd spent weeks planning this moment. After the ceremony, when he was crowned, she'd announce the pregnancy openly. Their son. The future of the Blackwood line.
Maybe—maybe that would make him finally see her as more than a political mistake.
Maybe he'd look at their child and feel something. Anything.
The hall was packed. Every pack member in present, plus visiting Alphas from neighboring territories. Hundreds of witnesses to Ronan's rise.
Garrett stood at the front, the Alpha's crown in his hands—ancient metal carved with wolf heads.
Ronan knelt before his father, back straight, every inch the perfect soldier.
"Do you, Ronan Blackwood, accept the responsibility of Alpha?" Garrett's voice carried to every corner.
"I do."
"Do you swear to protect this pack with your life?"
"I do."
"Do you promise to uphold our traditions and strengthen our bloodline?"
Ronan paused. Just for a second.
His eyes flickered toward Lyra in the crowd. Something cracked in his expression—pain, quickly buried.
Then: "I do."
Garrett put the crown on his son's head. "Rise, Alpha Ronan Blackwood."
The pack exploded in cheers. Ronan stood, turning to face his people.
His eyes found Lyra again. No warmth. No recognition. Just cold blue ice.
Her stomach twisted. Something was wrong.
Garrett raised his hands for quiet. "As is tradition, the new Alpha's first act is to address any pack business requiring his judgment."
Standard process. Usually minor disagreements. Territory requests. Nothing important.
But Ronan's look was strange. Pained. Like a man walking to his death.
"I have business," he said quietly.
The hall went quiet.
"Regarding my mate."
Lyra's heart stopped. This was it. He was going to recognize the baby. Their future together.
She stepped forward, hand subconsciously moving to her stomach.
Ronan's eyes locked onto that movement. Something cracked in his expression—agony, quickly buried.
"The mating," he continued, voice flat as stone, "was political. Forced. A mistake."
Whispers spread through the crowd. Lyra froze.
No. No, he wouldn't—
"For the good of the pack," Ronan said, each word like a knife, "I am invoking Alpha's Right. I reject Lyra Reed as my mate."
The words hit like a physical blow. Lyra stumbled backward.
"No," she breathed. "No, you can't—"
"She is wolfless. Weak. Unworthy to carry the Blackwood name." His voice was ice and iron. Nothing human remained in it. "I break the bond. She is banned from pack lands effective immediately."
The link between them—already cold, already painful—shattered.
Lyra screamed.
It felt like her chest was being ripped open. Like every nerve in her body was on fire. The pain drove her to her knees.
The link breaking wasn't clean. It tore. Shredded. Left raw cuts in places she didn't know existed.
Through the pain, she looked up at Ronan.
His face was a mask. But his hands shook. And in his eyes—just for a second—she saw despair that matched her own.
Then it was gone. Buried under chores and ice.
"Guards," he ordered. "Remove her."
Two wolves grabbed her arms, pulling her upright.
"Wait!" Lyra choked out. "The baby—I'm pregnant! You can't—"
"Lies." Garrett cut in easily. "The desperate begging of a rejected omega. Trying to trap an Alpha with false claims."
"It's not wrong! I'm three months—"
"Enough." Ronan's voice was final. "Guards. NOW."
They dragged her toward the exit. Lyra fought, screaming, scratching.
"Ronan, please! PLEASE! Our baby needs you! I need you!"
He didn't look at her. Didn't move. Just stood there, crowned and cold, while they threw her out like garbage.
The pack members she'd known her whole life watched. Some with pity. Some with satisfaction. Some with relief that the stain on pack purity was finally being removed.
No one helped. No one spoke up.
No one cared.
They dumped her on the front steps like trash.
Rain had started falling—cold, ruthless.
"You have one hour to leave pack territory," the head guard said. "After that, you're trespassing. We're allowed to hunt you."
"Hunt?" Lyra gasped. "I'm pregnant—"
"You're nothing." He turned his back. "One hour."
The door slammed shut.
Lyra sat there on the wet stone steps, the broken bond still screaming inside her chest, rain soaking through her silver dress.
One hour.
One hour to gather her things and leave forever.
She stumbled to her feet and ran.
To her aunt and uncle's house. Her family. They'd raised her after her parents died. They'd help. They had to help.
She banged on their door. "Aunt Sarah! Uncle Mark! Please!"
The door cracked open. Her aunt's face appeared—hard, disgusted.
"You."
"Please, I'm pregnant, I have nowhere to go—"
"You embarrassed this family." Her aunt's lip curled. "Rejected by an Alpha. Cast out as useless. You think we want that shame?"
"I'm your niece—"
"You're nothing. Your parents must be rolling in their graves, knowing what a loser you turned out to be." Her aunt's eyes were cold. "You should have died with them."
The door slammed.
Lyra stood in the rain, alone, the refusal echoing in her ears.
You should have died with them.
Maybe her aunt was right.
Maybe she should have.
The pack lights glowed behind her. Warm. Safe. Belonging to everyone except her.
She had nothing. Was nothing. Belonged nowhere.
Her hand moved to her stomach. The baby. Small. Helpless. Growing inside her.
A baby that would be born unwanted. Rejected before it even drew breath. Carrying the shame of a wolfless mother and a father who denied its presence.
What kind of life was that?
What kind of mother could she be with nothing to offer?
The woods called. Dark. Deep. Final.
Lyra walked into the forest.
Kept walking until the pack lights disappeared. Until only darkness remained. Until she couldn't hear the celebration continue without her.
They were probably celebrating Ronan's coronation. Probably relieved the Null was finally gone.
Her feet carried her deeper. The rain soaked through her dress. Cold seeped into her bones.
She found a cliff edge.
Looked down at rocks and flowing water far below.
It would be quick. Painless. Better than trying to live as a rejected, pregnant omega with nowhere to go.
Better than bringing a child into a world that would hate it for existing.
Better than failure one more time.
She stepped closer to the edge.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to the tiny life inside her. "I'm so sorry I'm not strong enough. Not good enough. Not anything you need."
Tears mixed with rain on her face.
"Maybe it's better this way. You deserve better than me. Better than this life."
One more step. One more and it would all be over.
No more pain. No more rejection. No more feeling useless and broken and wrong.
She closed her eyes.
Took a breath.
Stepped forward— "Stop."
The voice came from behind her. Female. Calm. Commanding.
Lyra froze.
Turned slowly.
A woman stood there—tall, beautiful, maybe forty-five years old. She wore black despite the rain. Her dark hair didn't move in the wind. And her eyes...
Her eyes glowed faintly in the darkness.
"Who are you?" Lyra's voice was hollow.
"Someone who sees what you really are." The woman stepped closer. "Not useless. Not weak. Powerful beyond measure. You just don't know it yet."
"I'm nothing. He said—" "He lied." The woman's smile was gentle. "Or he was lied to. Either way, you're standing at a crossroads, child. Death or change. Ending or beginning."
Lyra looked back at the cliff. The easy way out.
Then at this strange woman offering impossible hope.
"What do you want?" Lyra asked.
"To give you a choice." The woman held out her hand. "Come with me. Let me show you what you truly are. Let me teach you to never be helpless again."
"Why would you help me?"
"Because I see myself in you. Broken. Rejected. Left to die." The woman's eyes hardened. "And I survived. Thrived. Became something they fear. You can too."
Lyra's hand shook. "What about my baby?"
"I'll protect you both. I promise." The woman's smile widened. "You'll raise your child in strength, not weakness. Power, not shame. And one day, you'll return to that pack and show them exactly what they threw away."
Lyra looked at the offered hand.
Then at the cliff.
Death or life.
Ending or change.
She took the woman's hand.
"What's your name?" Lyra asked.
"Elena." The woman's grip was warm. Strong. "And I'm going to change your life, Lyra Reed."
"How?"
"By showing you the truth about what lives inside you." Elena pulled her away from the cliff edge. "The shadow you've always felt. The darkness they called a curse? It's not a curse at all."
"Then what is it?"
Elena's eyes flashed pure black for just a second.
"It's power. And it's time you learned to use it."
She led Lyra into the trees, away from the cliff, away from death.
And Lyra—broken, rejected, pregnant, and desperate—followed.
Because what choice did she have?
She had nothing left to lose.
Except her life.
And right now, that didn't seem worth much anyway.
The rain fell faster. Thunder cracked overhead.
And somewhere in the distance, the Blackwood Pack celebrated their new Alpha.
Never knowing they'd just made their greatest enemy.
Never knowing the useless Null they'd thrown away would return.
Changed.
Powerful.
Unstoppable.
But that was still to come.
Tonight, Lyra was just a broken girl following a stranger into darkness.
Hoping—foolishly, desperately hoping—that maybe Elena was right.
Maybe this was a beginning, not an end.
Maybe she could become something more
than the useless omega they'd rejected.
Maybe.
The word tasted like ashes.
But it was all she had left.
So she held onto it.
And walked into the unknown.