The aftermath of Alaric's explosive rage left the packhouse cloaked in an eerie silence. Even the bravest warriors avoided his gaze. Doors shut faster, whispers spread in corners, and not even Cassian dared question the Alpha's fury. Lyra hadn't seen Alaric since the night he'd stormed into the courtyard and declared vengeance for what had been done to her. The flames in his eyes haunted her dreams. But so did the quiet ache in her chest.
She stood alone by the training field, her bruises now faded, but the memories of captivity burned fresh. Each day since her return, she trained harder. Stronger. Faster. The trials had nearly broken her, but now she had something sharper than pain purpose.
Footsteps approached from behind. She didn't turn. "Cassian," she said softly.
"You're getting good at that."
"I hear you coming a mile away."
He moved beside her, arms crossed. "Alaric's preparing for war."
"I figured."
"He's called the council into an emergency session. Ronan's forces are mobilizing. The scouts saw two neighboring packs flying his crest."
Lyra exhaled slowly. "He's building an army."
"And he's recruiting discontented packs. Packs who oppose Bloodbonds, who see Alaric's rule as tyrannical."
Lyra glanced at Cassian. "You mean the packs who see me as a threat."
Cassian didn't deny it. "The bond has changed things. You've changed things."
Inside the council chamber, voices clashed like clanging swords. Elders argued over strategy. Betas brought in reports from scouts. Alaric stood at the head of the long table, arms folded, eyes cold and calculating.
Lyra entered the room and silence fell.
She met each of their eyes without flinching. The Luna Court was seated on the edges, watching her with a mixture of suspicion and wary respect.
"Ronan has formed an alliance," one of the elders announced. "With Blackthorn and Hollowfang. Combined, they outnumber us."
Alaric's jaw tightened. "We have Ravenguard. We have warriors loyal to this land, this pack. Numbers aren't everything."
A councilwoman leaned forward. "And what of morale? Half the pack questions the Bloodbond. They whisper about the trials. The broken tradition. The Luna who wasn't chosen by the Moon Goddess."
Alaric's eyes cut to Lyra. "She was chosen. By me."
Lyra felt the heat rise up her neck. Not out of embarrassment but the way he said it. Like a vow.
"But will she lead us?" another voice asked. "Can she?"
Alaric turned to her, silent, waiting.
Lyra stepped forward. "I didn't ask for this bond. And I didn't ask for your acceptance. But I have bled for this pack. I've faced every trial you demanded. I was captured, tortured, and still came back. So if war is coming, I'll be on the front lines. And any wolf who doubts me is welcome to step into the ring."
A stunned silence followed.
Then a single elder, one of the oldest nodded. "She has Luna's fire."
Later that night, Lyra found Alaric in the war room. Maps covered the walls. Pins, marks, strategies. He stood at the center of it all, radiating storm.
"You wanted me to be chosen," she said quietly, "not claimed."
Alaric didn't turn. "I still do."
"Then let me fight."
His voice was low, dangerous. "I almost lost you once."
"And you will again if you lock me away."
That made him turn.
She stepped into his space, their energy crackling. "You're angry. I get it. So am I. But don't let your wrath cost us this war. You need me. And not because of a bond."
His fingers brushed her jaw. "You think I don't know that?"
The tension melted just enough for her to whisper, "Then don't shut me out."
He stared at her for a long moment. "Fine. You'll lead a unit. Tactical strikes on Hollowfang's border supply lines."
Lyra blinked. "You're trusting me with that?"
"I'm trusting you with more than that."
Their eyes locked.
Something unspoken passed between them. Not just strategy. Not just desire. Respect. Maybe even something deeper.
Two days later, Ravenguard forces began their march. Armor gleamed under gray skies. The scent of war stained the wind.
As Lyra mounted her horse, Cassian handed her a sealed scroll. "Tactical maps. Alaric drew them himself. You're leading the strike on Hollowfang's northern flank."
She nodded. "Tell him... tell him I'll make him proud."
Cassian grinned. "He already is."
And with that, Lyra rode out. Into war. Into chaos.
The horizon burned orange in the distance.
War was no longer coming.
It had arrived.