Training began at dawn.
Lyra stood barefoot in the clearing, frost biting at her skin. She tried not to shiver. Kael noticed anyway.
"Ground yourself," he said. "Cold is a distraction. Don't fight it—acknowledge it."
She nodded quickly. "Okay. I think I can do that."
He circled her slowly, hands clasped behind his back. "Close your eyes."
She did.
Immediately, panic flared.
"What if I mess up?" she blurted.
"You will," Kael said calmly. "That's how learning works."
Her shoulders relaxed—just a little.
"Feel the earth," he continued. "Not your power. The earth."
Lyra frowned. "But… my power is part of me."
Kael stopped.
"That," he said quietly, "is the first correct thing you've said without doubting yourself."
Her lips parted in surprise.
Before she could respond, a sharp voice cut through the clearing.
"This is reckless."
Councilwoman Selene stepped forward, flanked by two elders. Her gaze swept over Lyra with thinly veiled distaste.
"She nearly exposed us last night," Selene continued. "The wards flared bright enough to be seen miles away."
Lyra shrank back instinctively.
Kael stepped forward instantly, placing himself between them.
"She saved lives."
"She invited war," Selene snapped. "And now you're training her personally? You're compromised."
Kael's voice dropped. "Watch your words."
Selene's eyes narrowed. "She's not your Luna."
The silence was deadly.
Lyra's heart pounded.
"I—I can leave," she whispered. "If I'm a problem—"
Kael turned to her sharply. "You are not leaving."
"But—"
"No," he said firmly. "That's final."
Selene scoffed. "You're protecting her like she's already claimed."
Kael didn't deny it.
Instead, he said, "This council is dismissed."
The elders hesitated—then obeyed.
When they were gone, Lyra hugged her arms to herself. "They don't like me."
"That's not your burden," Kael said. "It's mine."
She hesitated. "Is it because of… what I am?"
Kael studied her for a long moment. "Partly."
"And the rest?"
He exhaled slowly. "Because they sense what you'll become."
Her voice was barely audible. "Do you?"
"Yes."
Training resumed quietly.
Kael stood behind her now, careful not to touch—yet close enough that she could feel his warmth.
"Call the water," he murmured. "But don't command it."
She concentrated.
The stream nearby rippled—then stilled.
"Good," he said. "Again."
She smiled faintly. "You sound proud."
"I am," he admitted.
That was when Elder Maelor returned—alone.
"There's something you need to see," the elder said, gaze fixed on Lyra. "Both of you."
They followed him into the roots beneath the heart-tree, to an ancient stone wall etched with symbols older than the pack itself.
Maelor brushed away moss.
A carving emerged.
A woman—half wolf, half spirit—hands glowing, surrounded by blooming vines and kneeling alphas.
Lyra stepped closer, breath hitching.
"She looks like me," she whispered.
Maelor nodded gravely. "She was called the Verdant Luna."
Kael stiffened. "That's a myth."
"No," Maelor said. "She was real. And she disappeared after giving birth to a child hidden among wolves."
Lyra's pulse thundered.
Maelor turned to her fully. "Your scent doesn't match any known bloodline."
Lyra's knees weakened. "What are you saying?"
Maelor's voice softened. "You were never abandoned by chance."
Kael's gaze snapped to Lyra, something fierce and terrified warring in his eyes.
"You were hidden," Maelor finished. "Because your existence would threaten the balance of every pack."
Silence fell heavy.
Lyra whispered, "I don't want to threaten anyone."
Kael stepped closer, lowering himself to her level.
"You don't," he said. "You change things."
Her eyes filled with tears. "I don't know how to be this."
"You won't be alone," he said.
She looked at him—really looked.
"Even if the whole world comes?"
Kael's answer was immediate.
"Then the world will break before you do."
And somewhere deep beneath the earth, ancient magic stirred—recognizing its heir.