The sun was just beginning to rise, casting long golden lines across the training grounds as Lyra threw herself into the drills with unrelenting focus.
Her body ached, but her resolve was stronger than ever. Each movement was sharper, more precise than the day before. The fog in her instincts had lifted slightly since Blackthorn Keep. She could feel it—her strength returning, her power awakening.
She wasn't the girl who had arrived at the Midnight Crest barely able to hold her stance. She was the Luna of the Alpha. Even if the world had forgotten, she hadn't.
"Again," she snapped at the training dummy, slamming her palm forward.
The invisible force pulsed from her skin—a golden wave of energy that burst out like a shield and threw the dummy flying several meters back.
Gasps rippled from the warriors gathered nearby.
One of them, a broad-shouldered beta named Taren, raised his brows. "That's Luna power, isn't it?"
Lyra turned, brushing sweat from her brow. "Still learning to control it."
"Well," he said, half impressed, half uneasy, "you're getting there. Fast."
Ethan stepped into the arena then, his presence commanding as always, but his eyes—his eyes were on her, and they burned with something else.
Pride. Relief. Hunger.
"You're pushing yourself," he said as he approached.
She rolled her eyes. "We're at war, remember?"
Ethan took her wrist gently, his fingers wrapping around the pulse point. "And wars are won with endurance. You break, we lose."
Lyra stepped closer, her chin tilted up defiantly. "I'm not going to break."
He stared at her a moment longer before nodding. "Then let's test that."
---
They moved to the sparring ring, the pack forming a loose circle around them. There was a hum in the air—anticipation mixed with awe. Watching their Alpha spar was rare. Watching him spar with someone who could match him, rarer still.
Lyra braced herself.
Ethan didn't hold back. His first move came fast—low and sweeping. Lyra dodged, pivoted on instinct, and countered with a jab toward his ribs. He caught her wrist, twisted, but she slipped free, sliding under his arm and using his own momentum against him.
The crowd murmured as she landed lightly on her feet, facing him again.
He smirked.
"Nice."
She didn't reply.
She lunged.
What followed was a dance of motion—furious, fluid, and perfectly matched. Ethan was stronger, faster, but Lyra was unpredictable. Her shield burst blocked a direct hit; his claws grazed her shoulder. Neither of them used their full force—but it was enough to draw blood. Enough to test.
And Lyra… she didn't fall.
In fact, she held her own better than any warrior had dared in years.
Finally, Ethan held up a hand, his breathing steady but his chest heaving. "That's enough."
Lyra straightened, her heart pounding. "You're holding back."
"So are you," he said quietly, stepping closer. "But that wasn't the point."
She frowned. "Then what was?"
"To see if you're ready."
"For what?"
His jaw tensed. "Vivian's making her move. She's building alliances outside the northern territory. I got word this morning—she's been visiting rogue dens."
Lyra's lips parted. "She's recruiting the ones who don't answer to any Alpha."
"Exactly. The most desperate. The most dangerous."
Lyra swallowed. "When do we leave?"
Ethan looked at her. "Tonight."
---
Later That Evening – Lyra's Quarters
The adrenaline from training had faded, but Lyra's body still pulsed with energy.
She stood before the mirror, wrapping her hand around the silver dagger Ethan had given her weeks ago—the one she hadn't dared to use.
It felt familiar now. Natural.
Just like the bond between them.
There was a knock at her door.
"Come in," she said, not turning.
Ethan stepped in, a fresh shirt clinging to his chest, damp hair falling across his forehead.
He didn't speak.
She met his eyes in the mirror.
"What is it?" she asked.
He walked up behind her, resting his hands gently on her hips.
"You fought like hell today," he said, voice low.
She allowed herself a small smile. "I had a lot to prove."
"You don't," he said.
She turned, their bodies close. "I do. To myself."
He lifted her chin with his fingers. "I see you, Lyra. Not just who you were. Who you are. You're not broken. You're not less. You're mine."
Her breath hitched.
The intensity in his eyes made it hard to breathe.
Slowly, he pressed his lips to hers.
This time, it wasn't desperate like the kiss under the moon.
It was slow. Intentional. Worshipful.
She melted into him as his hands slid along her back, then lower, lifting her effortlessly as he carried her to the bed.
The night swallowed the rest of their words. And they became one again—not just through flesh, but soul.
---
Northern Borderlands – Rogue Camp, Midnight
The trees whispered with warning.
Ethan's team moved like shadows, Lyra at his side. Her heartbeat was steady, even as they neared the makeshift camp.
"I smell something," Logan murmured ahead of them. "Sulfur. Blood."
Ethan signaled for silence.
They crouched behind the ridge overlooking the firelit clearing.
Rogues.
Dozens of them. Wild-eyed. Hungry.
And in the center, cloaked in dark velvet, stood Vivian.
Her voice echoed through the clearing. "You have all suffered. Rejected. Exiled. Forgotten."
The rogues howled in response.
"But I offer you more than scraps," she said, smiling coldly. "I offer you vengeance. Power. Purpose."
Ethan's fists clenched.
"She's starting a war," Lyra whispered.
"No," Ethan said. "She's feeding one."
Vivian turned suddenly, looking directly toward them.
"Tell your Alpha," she shouted to the trees, "that I will break what binds him. I will shatter his past, and his future. I will take what was never meant to be his."
Lyra's blood ran cold.
"She knows we're here," Logan cursed.
"She wanted us to see this," Ethan muttered. "It's a message."
Lyra stared at Vivian's smirk from across the fire.
"It's a challenge," she corrected.
---
Back at Midnight Crest – Dawn
Lyra stood on the balcony, wrapped in a soft robe, watching the sky shift from black to pink.
Ethan emerged behind her, shirtless, scarred, beautiful.
"She's ready to move," he said.
Lyra nodded. "So are we."
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close.
"This time," he said, voice thick, "I'm not letting you out of my sight."
"Good," she whispered. "Because I have no intention of dying again."