Lyra
Sleep abandoned me before midnight.
Every time I closed my eyes, the bond stirred—restless, probing, as though testing the distance between us. It wasn't pain this time. It was awareness. A slow, unnerving sense of being watched, felt, known.
I sat up on my narrow bed, fingers clenched in the blanket.
"This is insane," I muttered.
My wolf shifted uneasily, pressing against my ribs. She didn't like confinement. She didn't like unanswered calls. And she definitely didn't like being tied to three men who once made surviving this pack feel impossible.
A knock sounded at the door.
Sharp. Deliberate.
My heart jumped.
I didn't move.
The knock came again, softer this time—hesitant, almost.
"Go away," I said.
Silence.
Then, "We need to talk."
His voice slid through the wood like a blade. Controlled. Strained.
I closed my eyes. "There's nothing to talk about."
The bond pulsed in response—tight, aching.
"You're wrong," he said quietly. "And you know it."
I stood, wrapping my cloak around myself before yanking the door open.
He stood alone in the corridor, torchlight casting shadows across his face. Gone was the arrogant confidence he once wore like armor. In its place was something raw, tightly restrained.
"You shouldn't be here," I said.
"I know."
"Pack law—"
"—can't stop the bond from reacting," he finished. "Trust me. I've tried."
That admission sent a shiver down my spine.
"Say what you came to say," I said. "Then leave."
He hesitated, jaw tightening. "What happened today… it wasn't planned."
I let out a humorless laugh. "Neither was my entire childhood."
His eyes darkened. "I know."
That stopped me.
"You don't get to say that," I snapped. "Knowing didn't stop you. Knowing didn't change anything."
He flinched.
"I was a coward," he said.
The bond flared—sharp, disorienting. Emotion spilled through it: regret so intense it nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.
I staggered back a step.
"Stop," I whispered. "You're doing this on purpose."
"I'm not," he said quickly. "I swear. I don't even know how to control it."
That scared me more than cruelty ever had.
A sudden crash echoed down the corridor.
We both turned as raised voices followed—angry, heated, familiar.
The other two.
The bond reacted violently, threads pulling in different directions. My knees buckled as sensation slammed into me—rage, frustration, fear tangled together.
"Stay here," he ordered instinctively.
I laughed breathlessly. "Don't pretend you get to protect me now."
But he was already moving.
Against my better judgment, I followed.
We found them near the training grounds, tension thick enough to choke on. One had his fists clenched, eyes glowing faintly. The other stood rigid, breathing too hard, fighting something feral beneath the surface.
"This is getting out of control," one of them growled.
"She's too close," the other snapped. "The bond's reacting to proximity."
"So what?" the first shot back. "We lock her away?"
My blood went cold.
"Say that again," I said.
They froze.
All three of them turned toward me at once.
The bond howled.
For one terrifying second, the world tilted. Power surged through the clearing—raw, untrained, volatile. My wolf surged forward, answering something ancient and demanding.
"No," I gasped, clutching my chest.
Too late.
The ground trembled faintly beneath our feet.
One of them dropped to a knee, teeth clenched, fighting the pull. Another swore under his breath, turning away as if distance might save him.
The third—the one who had spoken of locking me away—looked at me with naked shock.
"I didn't mean—"
"Enough," I said hoarsely. "All of you."
The bond snapped tight, then recoiled—as if startled by my command.
We all felt it.
Silence crashed down, heavy and stunned.
"What… was that?" one of them asked quietly.
I swallowed hard. "That," I said, "is why this bond is dangerous."
Footsteps approached from the shadows.
The Alpha.
His presence slammed into the clearing like a warning bell. His gaze flicked from one son to the next, then settled on me—sharp, assessing, calculating.
"I warned you," he said coldly.
None of them spoke.
"You will be separated," the Alpha continued. "Effective immediately."
My chest tightened. "You can't—"
"I can," he interrupted. "And I will. Until control is established, this bond is a threat to the pack."
A threat.
The word burned.
As guards moved in, the bond reacted again—panicked, resistant. Emotion slammed through me from all directions at once: protest, fury, fear.
One of them took a step toward me.
I shook my head. "Don't."
Our eyes met.
For the first time, there was no past between us.
Only the bond.
And the terrifying truth settling deep in my bones—
This wasn't fate testing us.
This was fate preparing to break something.
As I was led away, the pull stretched painfully thin, vibrating with unfinished tension.
Whatever the Moon Goddess had planned…
She hadn't even begun yet.