Steel clashed and rang out through the courtyard, all that racket bouncing off stone walls, mixing with the short, snappy orders flying around. The morning drills—oh, they'd been grinding on since way before Selene tiptoed her way into the training yard. And honestly, every breath she took still seared inside, Kael's voice from last night echoing, sticking to her like glue—no, like heavy chains she couldn't shake loose.
One wrong step, and you won't survive this lie.
She tightened her hands around the edge of her cloak, hood down and head lowered as she entered. The warriors stood in fine formation, wooden blades meeting other wooden blades in precise unison as there was sweat and moist earth-filled air.
The practice drills slowed when they noticed her.
Selene felt the weight of their stares. Some were curious, others outright hostile and none of them smiled. It was like stepping into a cage filled with predators waiting for the first sign of weakness.
She forced her shoulders back, trying to mirror the posture she had pieced together from whispers about Lyra—the sharp chin, the proud gait, the aura of someone who owned the ground she walked on. But her feet stumbled slightly in the gravel, and she knew she hadn't sold it.
The silence deepened.
Then, it broke.
A young boy hurried across the field—an omega no older than twelve carrying a load of blunt wooden practice swords. He hurried along, his gait uncertain, and in the process bumped into her.
The swords dropped to the ground.
Selene gasped, catching her breath, but the boy's reaction immobilized her there. His eyes went wide, his face blanched, and he dropped to his knees so fast his palms scraped on the pavement.
Please," he babbled, his voice trembling. "Please, don't hurt me, I didn't mean to…
The world beyond them appeared to take a deep breath.
Selene blinked, stunned. Hurt him? Why would he…
A ripple of smirks spread among the watching warriors. One older male muttered under his breath, "Stupid pup. He ought to have known better than to get in her way."
Selene's stomach twisted. Pounding away against her ribcage, her heart pushed for release. She moved cautiously in front of the omega boy. He shrank from her motion, crossing arms to shield his face. The sight made her throat tighten.
"No," she said softly, moving forward but then halting just short of contact. "You didn't do anything wrong."
The arms of the boy were trembling with his shallow and labored breathing.
Selene picked up the fallen practice swords, one at a time, slowly and carefully, and handed them back to his hands. "Here," she said, meeting his terrified gaze. "Watch yourself next time, all right?"
Gasp waves moved over the field.
The boy stared at her, his eyes wide—almost disbelieving. He gestured slightly, swords held to his chest like a loop hurled out, before running off.
Selene rose, her cheeks flushed. The silence that followed was not empty—it was scorching, biting as every eye was on her.
That was when she understood.
It wasn't just that the boy was afraid and It wasn't just that the warriors expected him to be punished.
They expected her—Lyra—to punish him, because that's what Lyra always did.
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
She stood frozen in the middle of the training grounds as whispers began to stir among the warriors. Some were mocking—"She's gone soft." Others were wary, as if unsure whether this was some new game of cruelty.
But a different kind of murmur traveled through the ranks of omegas gathered at the edges of the grounds. Their heads lifted ever so slightly. Their eyes, once dulled with resignation, sparked with something else.
Hope.
Selene felt it pressing in on her from every direction—the weight of expectation, the clash of fear and suspicion.
She had just stepped off Lyra's script and everyone had noticed.
And she couldn't decide what frightened her more: the warriors who saw weakness, or the omegas who saw a glimpse of something worth believing in.
A metallic taste rose in her mouth as Kael's words from the night before came back to her again. One wrong step…
This had to count as one.
But as Selene looked around the training grounds, at the sharp gazes and the trembling omega boy disappearing into the barracks, she realized something else: maybe the real danger wasn't stepping wrong.
Maybe the real danger was playing Lyra's part too well.
-------
The training yard never quite recovered from that moment. The clatter of wooden swords resumed, but it was uneven, distracted. Selene could feel their eyes on her as she retreated to the edge of the grounds, her cloak tight around her shoulders.
She replayed the scene in her head: the omega boy's terrified face, the warriors' cruel smirks, the way silence had broken when she helped him.
That wasn't just a stumble in her disguise. That was a fracture…. A slip Lyra would never have made.
Kael's voice cut through the air like a blade.
"Again," he commanded the warriors, his tone sharp enough to sting. He stood at the far side of the yard, arms folded across his chest, his gaze trained on the sparring pairs. But Selene wasn't fooled, she knew he had seen everything.
When the session ended, Kael didn't dismiss her as he usually did. Instead, he crooked a finger, summoning her closer.
Her vocal cords seized.
She crossed the yard with deliberate calm, mimicking Lyra's proud stride, though her insides churned. When she stopped before him, Kael tilted his head, his cold eyes narrowing as though he was studying a puzzle piece that didn't fit.
"You wear her face, but I see the fault lines," he said flatly.
Selene forced her chin up. "Training makes everyone change."
Kael's mouth curved—not in amusement, but in something darker. "That boy you spared. He's an omega. Do you know what you taught him today?"
Her heart skipped. "That mistakes don't always mean punishment?"
"No." Kael leaned closer; his voice low, dangerous. "You taught him that you are weak. Omegas spread stories faster than wildfire and by tonight, the pack will whisper that Lyra Blackthorn has grown soft. Do you know what that means for me?"
Selene opened her mouth but couldn't say anything.
"It means," Kael said, each word cutting clean, "that the Alpha's future mate has made him look like a fool."
The ground felt unsteady beneath her feet. She swallowed hard. "I…"
"Spare your excuses," Kael snapped. His hand shot out suddenly, fingers gripping her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes burned like ice under moonlight. "You're not the Lyra I remember. You're not even close. So tell me…"
The silence stretched as Selene's pulse roared in her ears.
"…who are you really?"