~Lyra (Selene)
Frostfang Mountains are a shroud of mist and shadow, the cedars whispering secrets as I slip away from the Blackthorn stronghold. My cloak blends with the night, my boots silent on the frozen earth. The sacred grove lies just beyond the patrol lines, a place where the Moon Goddess's power lingers, where I can strengthen the magic that keeps my true scent—Lyra's scent—hidden. My heart pounds, not from fear but from the weight of my mission: to destroy Killian, the alpha who rejected me, who left me to die in these very mountains. But my wolf, traitorous beast, aches for him, stirred by his growl, his scent, his nearness. I clench my fists, the scar on my cheek burning, a reminder of the pain he caused.
The grove is close, its ancient stones glowing faintly under the starlight. I need to commune with the Moon Goddess, to bolster the magic that cloaks me as Selene, the rogue healer. My visions—prophetic glimpses of Bloodclaw's attacks and a shadowy traitor with violet eyes—have grown stronger, but they drain me. I can't afford to falter, not when Mara's watching my every move, her jasmine scent and venomous gaze a constant threat. She orchestrated my exile, I'm sure, and her suspicion grows with every warrior I heal. One slip, and she'll expose me to Killian, to the pack that cast me out.
I pause at the edge of the grove, the air thick with primal energy. The stones form a circle, carved with runes that pulse like a heartbeat. I knelt, pressing my hands to the earth, and whispered the incantation the Moon Goddess taught me in the moment of my rebirth.
"Goddess of light, grant me strength, hide my truth, guide my vengeance."
My magic flares, a warm tide in my veins, and my silver eyes glow, impossible to conceal in the dark. I focus, channeling the power to reinforce my scent disguise—ash and wildflowers, not the cedar-and-honey of Lyra, the omega Killian rejected.
A twig snaps, and my wolf snaps to attention, ears pricked. I douse my magic, but not fast enough. Killian's scent—smoke and pine, sharp with alpha power—floods my senses, and my heart lurches. He's followed me, his massive frame emerging from the mist like a predator. His emerald eyes flash gold, his wolf close to the surface, and the scar on his brow catches the faint light. He's six-feet-four of raw strength, his presence overwhelming, and my wolf whines, desperate to close the distance despite my resolve.
"Selene," he growls, his voice low, dangerous. "What are you doing out here?"
His eyes narrowed, scanning the grove, lingering on the stones. My glowing eyes dim just in time, but my pulse races, the mate bond sparking like a live wire.
I rise, brushing dirt from my cloak, forcing calm into my voice. "Gathering herbs," I lie, gesturing to a satchel at my side, stuffed with random plants to sell the story. "The infirmary's low, and the grove has rare ones. I didn't think I needed permission to do my job."
His jaw tightens, and he steps closer, his scent wrapping around me like a noose. "You're under watch, rogue. Sneaking out at night doesn't help your case."
His gaze flicks to my face, and I tilt my head, letting my hair fall over the scar on my cheek. He's too close, his suspicion sharp as a blade, and my magic hums, straining to keep my disguise intact.
"I'm not sneaking," I say, meeting his eyes, my defiance a shield. "I'm healing your pack. Unless you'd rather I let your warriors die."
The words are bold, a challenge, but my wolf trembles, drawn to him, to the bond I can't escape. His rejection—You're too weak, Lyra—echoes in my mind, fueling my anger, keeping me grounded.
Killian's eyes flashed gold, his wolf reacting to my tone. "You know too much about Blackthorn for a rogue," he says, his voice a low rumble. "The grove, the herbs, our ways. Who taught you?"
My heart stutters, but I hold his gaze. "I've drifted through packs. You learn things."
The lie is thin, and his eyes narrow, searching for cracks. My magic flares again, a spark I can't fully suppress, and I step back, hoping the shadows hide the faint glow in my eyes.
He follows, closing the distance, his presence overwhelming. "You're hiding something," he says, his voice softer now, but no less dangerous. "My wolf senses it. And I don't trust easily, Selene."
My wolf whines, urging me to confess, to let the bond pull us together. But I focus on the scar, the pain, the betrayal.
"Then keep watching me, Alpha," I say, my voice steady despite the storm inside. "I'm here to help, nothing more."
He reaches out, his hand brushing my arm to stop me from turning away. The contact is electric, the mate bond igniting, a fire that burns through my defenses. My magic surges, my eyes glowing silver for a heartbeat before I wrench them shut, praying he didn't see.
His touch lingers, warm and possessive, and my wolf howls, desperate for him. I pull away, my breath ragged, but the bond pulses, alive and unyielding.
"Careful, Selene," he says, his voice a low growl, his gold-flecked eyes locked on mine. "Secrets don't survive in Blackthorn."
His words are a warning, but his touch—his nearness—feels like a promise, one my wolf wants to believe.
I nod, stepping back, my heart pounding. "I'll keep that in mind."
I turned toward the stronghold, clutching the satchel, my magic barely holding my disguise. The grove's energy lingers, strengthening me, but Killian's presence is a greater threat than Mara's schemes or Bloodclaw's raids.
My visions have shown me their attack, the violet-eyed traitor guiding them, but the bond with Killian could unravel me first.
As I walk away, a vision flickers at the edge of my mind—Bloodclaw wolves in the mist, claws gleaming, and that shadowy figure with violet eyes, watching, waiting.
The traitor's scent—cedar and betrayal—feels closer now, someone within Blackthorn. I need to warn the pack, but I can't reveal my prophetic gift, not yet. An anonymous note, maybe, but Killian's suspicion is a tightening noose.
One wrong move, and I'm exposed.
His footsteps follow me, silent but heavy, a predator tracking its prey. My wolf aches for him, but my heart burns with vengeance.
I'm Selene, not Lyra.
Not anymore.