LYRA'S POV
I couldn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Seraphine standing beside Prince Theron. Her silver-grey eyes—*my* eyes—staring at me like I was nothing. Like I was the fake one.
*"Did you really think you were the only one Mother wanted at court?"*
Her words played over and over in my head like a nightmare I couldn't wake from.
I paced my room at Nightfang Keep, my bare feet cold against the stone floor. The palace dinner had ended in chaos. Cadeon practically dragged me out of there, his hand tight around mine the whole carriage ride home. He didn't speak. Neither did I.
Now it was three in the morning, and I was alone with my thoughts.
Bad idea.
A soft knock made me jump.
"Who's there?" I called out, grabbing the small knife Kairan had given me for training. My hands shook as I held it.
"Laundry delivery, miss," a female voice said quietly.
Laundry? At three in the morning?
I cracked the door open. A young woman stood there holding a basket of folded sheets. She had brown hair pulled back in a simple braid and tired eyes. Human eyes.
"I don't need—" I started.
"East gardens, midnight tomorrow," she whispered so quickly I almost missed it. Then louder: "Your fresh linens, miss. General's orders."
She bowed—too low, too formal—and practically shoved the basket into my arms before hurrying away down the hall.
I stood there frozen, holding sheets I didn't ask for.
Hidden inside the basket was a small piece of paper: *Come alone. We need to talk about your mother.*
My heart hammered against my ribs.
---
The next day crawled by like torture.
Cadeon was locked in his study all morning, meeting with his advisors about Seraphine's sudden appearance at court. I heard raised voices through the thick door but couldn't make out the words.
Kairan found me in the training yard, hitting a practice dummy with way too much force.
"Easy," he said, catching my wrist mid-swing. "You'll break your hand before you break anything else."
"Good," I muttered. "Maybe then I'll feel something other than confused."
"The sister thing?" He let go of my wrist. "Yeah, that's complicated."
"Complicated?" I laughed bitterly. "Theron called Seraphine the *real* daughter. Like I'm just... what? A mistake? A fake?"
Kairan was quiet for a moment. "Blood doesn't make family, kid. Trust me on that."
Something in his voice made me look at him properly. His usual tough expression had softened, just slightly. Like he understood more than he was saying.
"Did you have siblings?" I asked.
"Once." He turned away. "Come on. Again. Stronger this time."
We trained until my muscles screamed, but it didn't stop my mind from racing.
Who was that kitchen worker? Why did she know about my mother? And how did she know I'd be here at Nightfang Keep?
The questions spun in circles until I wanted to scream.
---
Midnight came too slowly and too fast at the same time.
I slipped out of my room wearing dark clothes, my heart pounding so hard I was sure someone would hear it. The hallways were empty—most of the fortress slept. Only guards patrolled, and I'd learned their patterns from weeks of wandering when I couldn't sleep.
The east gardens were darker than I expected. No lanterns lit the paths here. Just moonlight filtering through thick trees and overgrown rose bushes with thorns like daggers.
*This is stupid,* I thought. *This is how people get killed in stories.*
But I kept walking.
"You came."
I spun around, knife already in my hand.
The woman from earlier stepped out from behind a stone bench. She held up both hands, showing she was unarmed. "Easy. I'm not here to hurt you."
"Then why *are* you here?" I demanded, not lowering my knife.
"My name is Seris," she said. "And I've been watching you since you arrived at Nightfang Keep."
Ice flooded my veins. "You've been *watching* me?"
"We all have." Seris glanced around nervously. "The resistance. The human resistance. We needed to be sure you were really her daughter before we made contact."
"Her?" I whispered, though I already knew.
"Elira Thorne." Seris stepped closer, and in the moonlight, I saw something familiar in her features. Something that made my stomach drop. "Your mother was our leader. She gave us hope when we had nothing. She showed us we could fight back."
"She's dead," I said flatly. "Twenty years dead."
"But her legacy isn't." Seris's eyes burned with intensity. "We've been waiting for you, Lyra. We've been waiting for Elira's daughter to come back and finish what she started."
"I'm not—" I shook my head. "I'm just a village girl who got sold at auction. I'm not a leader. I'm not—"
"You stood up to Prince Theron in front of the entire court," Seris interrupted. "You insulted him to his face and lived. Do you know how rare that is?"
"That was stupid, not brave."
"Maybe." She smiled slightly. "But stupid brave is what your mother was too. That's why we loved her."
The words hit me harder than any punch. People *loved* my mother. People remembered her. All I had were questions and a portrait hidden in Cadeon's study.
"What do you want from me?" I asked quietly.
"Nothing yet. Just... know that we're here. When you need us." Seris pulled something from her pocket—a small silver pendant shaped like a thorn. "Your mother wore this. We've kept it safe, waiting for the right time to return it."
She pressed it into my palm. The metal was warm, like it had been held close to someone's heart.
I stared at it, my eyes burning. "Why now? Why contact me now?"
"Because of what happened at the palace." Seris's face turned grim. "Your sister—Seraphine—she's dangerous. She's working with Theron, and we don't know why. But whatever they're planning—"
A twig snapped behind us.
We both froze.
"Lyra?" Cadeon's voice cut through the darkness like a blade. "What are you doing out here?"
Seris's eyes went wide with terror. She grabbed my wrist desperately. "Don't trust anyone. Not even him. Your mother's killer can never be—"
"Lyra, step away from her," Cadeon ordered, moving closer. His eyes had gone full golden-panther, glowing in the dark. "Now."
My heart stuttered. How much had he heard?
Seris released me and backed toward the garden wall. "Midnight, three days from now. The old temple ruins outside the city. Come alone if you want answers about what your mother really died for."
"She's not going anywhere with you," Cadeon growled.
But Seris was already climbing the wall with practiced ease. She paused at the top, looking down at me one last time.
"Ask him about the real reason he bought you at auction, Lyra. Ask him what he knew about your mother before she died."
Then she was gone, vanishing into the night.
I stood there, pendant clutched in my fist, as Cadeon reached me. His face was unreadable, but his jaw was tight with anger—or was it fear?
"How long have you been meeting with the resistance?" he asked quietly.
"This was the first time," I said. "I swear."
"And are you planning to go to that meeting? The one in three days?"
I looked up at him—this beast who bought me, who killed my mother, who made my heart race in ways that terrified me.
"I don't know," I whispered.
Cadeon's expression shifted into something that looked almost like pain. "Then I guess we both have secrets now."
He turned and walked back toward the fortress, leaving me alone in the dark with my mother's pendant and more questions than ever.
*What did he know about my mother before she died?*
And why did that question scare me more than anything else?