The dining hall buzzed with whispers when Lyra entered for the evening meal. Every conversation stopped. Every eye turned to stare. The quiet pressed against her like a heavy blanket, making it hard to breathe. "There she is," someone hissed. "The dead girl walking." "Brutus is taking bets on how long she'll last tomorrow." "My money's on thirty seconds." Lyra kept her chin high and walked toward an empty table.
Her stomach growled, but pride meant more than hunger right now. She'd barely sat down when a plate crashed into the wall beside her head. "Oops," Vivian said softly from across the room. "How clumsy of me." Laughter rippled through the hall. Lyra wiped gravy from her cheek and kept eating her bread, refusing to respond. Another plate flew. This one hit her shoulder, splattering food across her shirt. "Butterfingers," giggled a red-haired girl sitting with Vivian. "I'm so sorry, Luna." The word 'Luna' dripped with poison. More plates started flying. Soon, half the dining hall was throwing food at Lyra while the other half cheered them on. "Food fight!" someone yelled. But it wasn't a food fight. It was target practice, and Lyra was the object. She stood up, food dripping from her hair and clothes. Rage burned in her chest like a blaze. "Finished already?" Vivian called out. "But you've barely eaten anything!" "Maybe she's not hungry," the red-haired girl offered. "Maybe dead girls don't need food." That's when Lyra snapped. She grabbed a heavy wooden bowl from her table and threw it straight at Red-hair's smug face. It struck with a satisfying crack, sending the girl tumbling backward off her bench. The hall exploded in chaos. "She hit Celia!" someone screamed. "The rogue attacked us!" "Get her!" Five girls rushed at Lyra all at once. She grinned fiercely. Finally, a fair fight. The first girl reached her with claws extended. Lyra ducked under the swipe and drove her elbow into the attacker's ribs. The girl doubled over, gasping. The second girl tried to grab Lyra from behind. Lyra threw her head back, smashing into the girl's nose. Blood spurted everywhere. "Two down," Lyra mumbled. The third girl was smarter. She picked up a chair and swung it at Lyra's head. Lyra rolled to the side, letting the chair crash into the wall where she'd been standing. "My turn," Lyra growled. She snatched a fork from the table and stabbed it into the girl's thigh. The girl shrieked and fell. "Three down." The fourth and fifth girls struck together, trying to overwhelm her. Lyra grabbed a pitcher of water and smashed it over one girl's head, then swept the other girl's legs out from under her. Both girls hit the floor hard and stayed down. "Five down." The eating hall had gone completely silent. Everyone stared at Lyra, who stood in the middle of the rubble with blood on her knuckles and fire in her eyes. "Anyone else want to play?" she asked kindly. No one moved. That's when she noticed him. Kael stood in the doorway, his gray eyes locked on her face. He'd been watching the whole time. Watching while his pack members struck her. Watching while she fought for her life. And he'd done nothing to help. Their eyes met across the room. For a moment, something flickered in his eyes. Pride? Respect? She couldn't tell. Then his face went cold again. "Clean this up," he ordered, his words cutting through the silence. "All of you." He turned and walked away without another word. Without checking if she was hurt. Without recognizing that she'd just beaten five of his pack members. Without caring at all. The dismissal hurt worse than any physical blow. "You're going to pay for this," Vivian hissed as she helped her bloody friends to their feet. "We'll make you pay." "Get in line," Lyra shot back. "Seems like everyone wants a piece of me." She walked out of the dining hall with her head high, even though her whole body ached. Five against one, and she'd won.
That had to count for something. But Kael's coldness cut deeper than any claw. Back in her room, Lyra cleaned her cuts and changed into fresh clothes. The mate bond pulsed softly in her chest, reaching for Kael. But wherever he was, he wasn't reaching back. A soft knock at her door made her look up. "Come in." Maya's replacement entered—a nervous-looking boy who couldn't be more than sixteen. "Food, Luna," he stammered, setting down a tray. "Cook thought you might be hungry after... after the excitement." "What's your name?" "Jonas, Luna." "Thank you, Jonas. And you don't have to call me Luna. Lyra is fine." The boy's eyes went wide. "But... but pack law says—" "Pack law says a lot of things. Doesn't mean they're all smart." Jonas smiled despite himself. "Yes, Lu— I mean, Lyra." After he left, Lyra picked at the food. Her appetite had disappeared along with her hope. Tomorrow she would face Brutus in battle. Tomorrow she would either become Luna or die trying. And Kael would probably watch that fight the same way he'd watched tonight's—with cold, uncaring eyes. A shadow moved past her window. Lyra froze, fork halfway to her mouth. The shadow paused, then tapped on the glass. It was Mira. Or the thing that looked like Mira. "Let me in," she whispered through the glass. "Please. We don't have much time." Lyra paused. Elder Voss had warned her about the river's animals. About souls in the wrong forms. But those silver eyes looked so desperate. So afraid. She opened the window. Mira climbed inside, water dripping from her clothes and hair. Up close, Lyra could see the changes. This wasn't really Mira. The face was right, but everything else was wrong. "You shouldn't be here," Lyra said carefully. "I had to warn you." Mira's voice was Elara's voice, young and scared. "The river is coming. Tomorrow night, during the blood moon. It will take everyone who escaped it." "Voss already told me." "But he doesn't know the worst part." Mira grabbed Lyra's hands with fingers that felt like ice. "The river isn't just collecting bills. It's preparing for something bigger. Something terrible." "What?" "A opening. Between our world and the ghost realm. If it opens, the dead will pour through like a flood. They'll control the living, steal their bodies, take over everything." Lyra's stomach dropped. "How do you know this?" "Because I've seen it. In the river's thoughts. When it took my body and gave me Elara's soul, I saw everything it's planning." "You're really Elara?" Tears streamed down Mira's face. "I'm stuck, sister. Trapped in the wrong body with the wrong life. I remember drowning. I remember you trying to save me. I remember the cold hands pulling me under." "Elara, I'm so sorry—" "Don't apologize. Listen." Elara gripped her hands tighter. "Tomorrow night, the river will offer you a chance. It will say you can save everyone by taking my place as its carrier. Don't believe it. It's lying." "Then what do I do?" "You have to destroy the cause.
The river's heart. It's hidden in the deepest part of the water, where the first sacrifice was made ages ago." "How do I get there without drowning?" Elara's smile was sad. "You don't. You have to die to reach it. But dying isn't the same as staying dead." Before Lyra could ask what that meant, Elara stiffened. "It knows I'm here," she whispered. "It's calling me back." Water began pouring from her mouth and nose, just like it had with Maya. "Remember," she gurgled as the water pulled her toward the window. "The heart of the river. Destroy it before the doorway opens." "Elara, wait—" But her sister was already gone, dissolved into water that flowed out the window and down the castle walls. Lyra stood alone in her room, shaking. Tomorrow she had to fight Brutus for the right to be Luna. Tomorrow night she had to somehow destroy a cursed river without dying. And somewhere in between, she had to figure out how to die without staying dead. A new sound floated through her window. Not water this time. Howling. Dozens of voices raised in a haunting song that made her blood turn cold. She looked out and saw them. Pale figures surrounding the tower, their eyes glowing silver in the darkness. The river's gathered souls, all singing the same mournful tune. They were coming home. And tomorrow night, Lyra would join them—unless she found a way to send them all back to where they belonged.