The forest never forgets.Even after all these years, it still whispers the night I ran through it, half dead and carrying a promise inside me.
Now, its silence belongs to me.
The mist parts as I walk through the clearing, a dozen wolves following behind. Their paws make no sound on the wet earth. My pack moves like shadow : silent, loyal, lethal.
At the edge of the clearing stands a little girl with silver hair that glows under the rising sun. She's tracing shapes in the air, eyes half closed, murmuring to herself. The air shivers around her fingertips.
Magic.
"Lyra," I say softly.
She turns, her smile bright enough to make me forget the ghosts for a heartbeat.
"Morning, Mama."
Her voice still carries that lilting accent of the borderlands, my territory. My home. She runs toward me, clutching the small wooden wolf I carved her when she was three.
"You were training again," I say, brushing mud from her cheek.
She grins. "I was practicing control. I didn't burn anything this time."
My lips twitch. "Good. Let's keep it that way."
Behind us, one of my lieutenants clears his throat. "Alpha, the council awaits you."
I nod. "Have breakfast with Sera, sweetheart. I'll be back soon."
Lyra nods, already distracted by a butterfly of fire she conjures in her palms. She doesn't know yet what her power means : what she truly is. Half wolf. Half something else. The child of an omega and an Alpha who should never have been bound.
The world would kill her if it knew.
The council hall is carved into the side of the mountain, its walls lined with torches that never burn out. My pack, The Eclipse Wolves, wait in silence as I enter.
"Alpha," murmurs Kellan, my second-in-command. His amber eyes flicker with unease. "There's been news from the north."
I rest my hands on the table's edge. "Speak."
"The Silver Moon Pack," he says. "They're falling. The rogues have surrounded their borders. Their Alpha sent a request for negotiation."
My jaw tightens. I don't have to ask who their Alpha is.
Damian Blackthorn.
The name still tastes like metal on my tongue.
"They want protection?" I ask, though my voice is colder than ice.
Kellan hesitates. "They're desperate. If they fall, the rogues will spread south. It could threaten our lands too."
Of course it would. Fate has a cruel sense of humor.
After years of silence, the man who destroyed me now begs for help.
My wolves wait for my answer. They don't know the story behind that name : the scars it carved into my soul. To them, Damian Blackthorn is just another Alpha. To me, he's the ghost I buried long ago.
But ghosts have a way of clawing their way back.
"Send a reply," I say at last. "He wants a meeting? He'll get one."
Kellan blinks. "Here?"
I nod once. "Here. At dawn tomorrow."
He hesitates. "Should we prepare for battle?"
I let a slow smile curl my lips. "No. Prepare for a welcome."
That night, after everyone's gone, I stand at the balcony overlooking the valley. The moon hangs low, heavy, almost blood-red.
Behind me, tiny footsteps patter.
"Can't sleep?" I ask.
Lyra shakes her head. "I heard you talking about the Silver Moon Pack."
Smart girl. Too smart.
"Just pack business," I say lightly.
She tugs at my sleeve. "Are they bad people?"
I look at her, at the same golden flecks in her eyes that used to shine in his. The ache in my chest is old but still sharp.
"They're… people who made mistakes," I say carefully.
She tilts her head. "Will you fix it?"
I smile faintly. "Maybe."
Lyra nods, satisfied with that half-truth, and presses her small hand into mine. Her palm is warm. Steady. Real.
When she falls asleep in my arms, I whisper into her hair,"Tomorrow, you'll meet the man who gave you his eyes. But he'll never take anything from us again."
Outside, thunder rumbles in the distance. The storm is coming.
And this time, I'm not the one running from it.