The training ground was silent now, the only sounds Lyra could hear were her own ragged breaths and the faint hum of the Oath pulsing through her veins. Sweat dripped down her face, mixing with the early morning dew. Her arms ached, legs trembled, and every muscle in her body screamed from exertion—but beneath the exhaustion, there was a strange thrill.
The silver mark on her arm glowed softly, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat, a living reminder that she was bound to Kael in ways she could barely understand.
Kael stood a few feet away, watching her, his expression unreadable. His jaw was tight, the tension in his shoulders suggesting the wolf within was restless, struggling against the Alpha's control. For a moment, he looked almost human—just a man assessing the progress of someone he cared deeply about.
"You're stronger than I expected," Kael said quietly. "Stronger than any Seer I've trained—or fought beside—since the Oath awakened."
Lyra blinked, catching her breath. "Stronger… than anyone?" she asked, voice shaking. "Even you?"
Kael's eyes softened for a moment, just enough for her to see the weight of his emotions behind the silver glare. "Even me," he admitted. "But strength alone is not enough. Control is everything. The Oath reacts to emotion, to fear, to desire… and if either of us falters, it will punish both of us."
Lyra swallowed hard, feeling the pull of his words. "I… I think I can control it," she said quietly, though uncertainty tugged at her.
Kael studied her, silver eyes intense. "You're learning fast. Too fast for your own safety. The Darkfangs will not wait for you to be ready. They will hunt, they will destroy, and the Oath will not forgive mistakes."
Lyra's chest tightened. She felt the weight of her responsibility pressing down on her. She wasn't just a student or a survivor. She was the Seer, the center of a bond that could protect—or destroy—the pack.
He extended his hand toward her. "Come. Rest. We train again at dusk."
Lyra took his hand, feeling the surge of energy—the Oath—pulse between them like fire. It was frightening, consuming, and utterly impossible to ignore.
As they walked back to the lodge, Lyra's thoughts churned. The Oath was more than a bond—it was a force, alive, demanding, feeding off every emotion she and Kael felt. And she could feel it responding to him as strongly as it responded to her.
Her chest tightened as she glanced at him. Kael was not just her teacher. Not just her protector. He was her anchor. Her Alpha. The one the Oath had chosen for her. And she felt it—desire, fear, fascination—all coiling inside her like the silver light under her skin.
That night, lying beneath the pale glow of the moon, Lyra traced the crescent mark on her arm with her fingers. The silver glow painted her room in soft light, and she felt the heartbeat of the Oath thrum through her veins.
The bond was dangerous. Wild. Unpredictable. But it was hers—and Kael's.
She clenched her fists, determination settling over her like armor. Tomorrow, she would train harder. She would learn to control the energy that surged inside her. She would embrace the bond, the power, the connection to Kael—whether she was ready or not.
Because the Oath was awake, and it would not be ignored.
And Lyra knew, deep in her bones, that n
othing would ever be the same again.