Lyra's POV
The sky is bleeding.
I stare up at the crimson moon through tears and frost-covered lashes, my body still trembling on the ground. The empty space where my wolf used to be throbs with every heartbeat—a constant reminder of what I've lost.
But something else is happening now. Something that makes even Kael stop mid-step.
The shaking gets worse. The ancient moonstone altar splits down the middle with a crack so loud it sounds like thunder. Pack members stumble, grabbing onto each other for balance. One of the visiting Alphas actually falls to his knees.
"What's happening?" someone screams.
The Elder's face has gone white. "The prophecy," he whispers, staring at the blood-red moon. "By the Goddess, the prophecy is—"
The sky tears open.
Not metaphorically. Actually tears—a jagged rip of blinding silver light cutting through the crimson darkness like someone slashed the world with a knife. The light is so bright I have to shield my eyes, so powerful I can feel it vibrating in my bones.
"Everyone down!" Kael shouts, his Alpha command forcing every wolf to drop flat.
Everyone except me.
I can't move. I'm still on my knees, still broken, still numb from having my soul ripped in half. The silver light washes over me, and instead of burning, it feels... familiar. Like coming home to a place I've never been.
Through the tear in the sky, something descends.
Not something. Someone.
He falls like a star crashing to earth—fast, powerful, devastating. When he lands in the center of the clearing, the impact creates a crater. The ground buckles. Ancient trees at the edge of the clearing bend away from the shockwave.
And there, standing in the center of destruction, is the most terrifying man I've ever seen.
He's tall—impossibly tall—with long dark hair that moves in a wind that isn't there. He wears armor that looks like it's made of moonlight itself, silver and glowing and clearly not from this world. But it's his eyes that steal my breath.
They're pure silver. Not gray. Not light blue. Silver—like molten metal, blazing with power that makes my wolf's absence feel even emptier because I know, instinctively, that if she were still here, she'd be bowing.
Every wolf in the clearing is bowing. Foreheads pressed to the ground, necks bared in submission. Even Kael—proud, arrogant Alpha Kael—has dropped to one knee, head lowered.
The Elder is sobbing. Actually sobbing. "The Moon King," he gasps. "The Moon King has returned."
Moon King?
The man—no, not a man, something more than a man—stands perfectly still in his crater, surveying the crowd with those burning silver eyes. The temperature is still dropping. I can see frost spreading across the ground from where he stands, white and crystalline and beautiful.
Then his gaze lands on me.
The world stops.
I'm still on my knees in the ruined white petals, tears drying on my cheeks, my ceremonial dress torn and dirty. I must look pathetic. Broken. Exactly as weak as Kael said I was.
But this man—this king—looks at me like I'm the only person in the clearing.
He moves, and it's predatory. Graceful. Like a wolf stalking prey. Each step is silent despite the armor, despite his size, despite the power radiating off him in waves that make the air shimmer.
The crowd parts instinctively, pressing themselves flatter against the ground as he passes. No one dares look up. No one dares breathe too loudly.
He stops in front of me. Up close, he's even more terrifying—and more beautiful. His face is sharp and cold, like it's carved from ice. His presence is suffocating, drowning, overwhelming.
I should bow. I should press my forehead to the ground like everyone else. But I can't. My body won't obey. I'm frozen, staring up at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to kill me for my disrespect.
Instead, he speaks.
"Stand."
His voice resonates with power—not loud, but absolute. The kind of voice that reality itself has to obey. My body responds before my mind catches up. My legs push me upright even though they're shaking, even though I feel like I'm going to collapse again any second.
We're standing face to face now. Well, face to chest. He's so much taller than me that I have to tilt my head back to meet those silver eyes.
"What is your name?" he asks.
My mouth is dry. "L-Lyra. Lyra Ashborn."
"Lyra." He says my name like he's tasting it. Testing it. His gaze travels over my face, down to my throat, across my shoulders. I feel exposed, seen in a way I've never been seen before. "Do you know what you are, Lyra Ashborn?"
I shake my head, confused. Terrified. "I'm... I'm nobody. I'm weak, I'm—"
"You're a fool if you believe that." His tone is cold, but there's something else underneath it. Anger, maybe. But not at me.
He reaches out slowly, giving me time to flinch away. I don't. I can't. I'm paralyzed by those silver eyes, by the way he's looking at me like he can see straight through to my soul.
His fingers brush my cheek.
And my world explodes.
Light erupts across my skin—silver and gold, blazing so bright the entire clearing gasps. It doesn't hurt. It should hurt, but it doesn't. It feels like waking up. Like being born. Like every cell in my body is coming alive for the first time.
I look down at my arms and scream.
Marks are appearing—ancient symbols and swirling patterns, silver and gold, covering my skin like tattoos being drawn by an invisible hand. They spread up my arms, across my collarbone, up my neck. I can feel them on my face, my back, everywhere.
The marks glow with the same light as the blood-red moon above.
"Impossible," the Elder breathes from somewhere behind me. "The Moon-Born marks... they're just a legend..."
"Not a legend." The Moon King's voice cuts through the shocked whispers. He's still touching my face, his silver eyes blazing. "She is exactly what the prophecy foretold."
"What prophecy?" I whisper, staring at the glowing marks on my arms. "What's happening to me?"
"You're awakening." His thumb brushes across my cheekbone, and more marks flare to life. "The seal that's hidden your true nature since birth is breaking. These marks prove your bloodline—you're Moon-Born. The last daughter of the celestial line."
"I don't understand—"
"Your mother," he says simply, "was a celestial princess. She fled to the mortal realm and sealed her powers—and yours—to hide from those who would use you. You were never weak, Lyra Ashborn. You were hidden."
The clearing erupts in shocked gasps and whispers. I hear Seraphina's voice, shrill and disbelieving: "That's impossible! She's nothing! She's—"
"She," the Moon King says coldly, not even looking at her, "is the most powerful she-wolf in this realm. And every single one of you was too blind to see it."
His gaze shifts to Kael, and I've never seen anyone look so terrifying.
"You," he says to the Alpha who rejected me. "You rejected your fated mate."
Kael has gone completely pale. "I... I didn't know—"
"You rejected the Moon-Born Queen." Each word is sharp as a blade. "Do you have any idea what you've just thrown away?"
Kael opens his mouth. Closes it. He looks at me—really looks at me—and I see the moment he realizes. The moment he understands exactly how badly he's messed up.
"Lyra," he starts, taking a step forward. "I didn't—"
The Moon King moves between us so fast I don't see it. One moment Kael is approaching, the next he's flat on his back with a silver blade at his throat.
"Don't," the Moon King says softly, dangerously, "ever speak to her again."
He straightens, sliding the blade away, and turns back to me. His expression is still cold, but something flickers in those silver eyes when they meet mine. Something that makes my breath catch.
He takes my hand, and the moment our skin touches, another sensation hits me. Different from the awakening marks. Deeper. More primal.
A bond snaps into place.
I gasp, stumbling, and he catches me easily. The bond is nothing like what I felt with Kael—that was a gentle thread. This is a chain. Cosmic. Infinite. Absolutely undeniable.
"No," I whisper, even as the bond settles into place deep in my chest. Right where Kael's bond used to be. "I can't—not again—"
"The bond you felt with him," the Moon King says, his voice quieter now but no less powerful, "was an echo. A shadow of what was always meant to be."
He's still holding my hand. The marks on my skin pulse in time with my racing heartbeat.
"You are mine, Lyra Ashborn." His words carry the weight of divine law. "By blood, by prophecy, by the Moon Goddess herself. I claim you as my Moon-Born Queen and celestial mate."
"I don't want this," I say desperately, trying to pull away. "I don't want another bond, another mate who'll just—"
"I am not him." The Moon King's grip tightens, not painfully, but firm. Final. "And you're coming with me."
"Wait—"
But celestial light is already enveloping us both, silver and blinding. I feel myself being pulled upward, feel the ground leaving my feet.
"No!" Kael's voice, desperate now. "She's mine! You can't—"
The Moon King looks at him one last time, and smiles. It's the coldest, cruelest smile I've ever seen.
"She was never yours," he says. "You made certain of that."
The light intensifies until I can't see anything else. I catch one last glimpse of the clearing—Seraphina's face twisted in rage, my stepmother's expression of horror, my father finally showing emotion but it's too late, too late—
Then the mortal realm disappears, and I'm falling through silver light with a stranger's arms around me and a bond I never wanted burning in my chest.