Fog hung low where the ground gave off a scent of metal, trees, fresh rain on stone. Not far off, something rusted beneath moss kept leaking into the soil.
A heaviness hit Lyra just past the unseen line - her ribs tightening, the soil seeming to reject her step. Above, the moon lost its glow under thick branches, dark shapes creeping forward like grasping fingers on packed earth.
Into her lungs, air moved slow on purpose. She made it stay that way.
Breathe first, she told her mind.
You weren't meant to take a life just now.
Fires sparked in the distance, lighting the path forward.
A patrol.
A sudden stop - four figures blocked her way, caught mid-change, their eyes bright like embers. Weapons sat loose in their grip. A sharp inhale cut through the silence. The one in front bared his teeth after tasting the wind.
"She smells wrong," he growled.
Her eyes dropped, shaping her expression into gentle lines. Quiet. Fragile. A breath away from crumbling.
"I'm a healer," she said quietly. "I answered the Alpha's summons."
Silence followed.
After that, a shake ran through the soil.
Stillness took each wolf at once. The air between them tightened without warning.
A weighty tread closed in from the rear of the group, measured, unhurried, pressing down like a storm front. That thud beneath each step sent Lyra's heartbeat into overdrive without warning. Pain shot through her chest as her heart pounded hard against bone - sudden, fierce, leaving air trapped in her throat.
No. No -
A yank hit fast. Sharp enough to crack bone. As if metal had locked hard along her back.
Fists tight, she held back the tremble in her hands.
Into the glow moved the Alpha.
Standing there, Kael Blackmoor rose higher than she had imagined. Wide across the shoulders, he wore dark leather like a second skin, shaped by battles long fought. A pale line ran through his collarbone, snaking under fabric where it vanished. Beauty lived in sharp edges on him, rough and edged with threat. Storm-colored eyes held hers, charged but quiet, moments before thunder breaks.
Staring straight at her, those eyes wouldn't look away.
Footsteps echoed where silence had settled before.
Falling almost made her collapse when fire ripped into her blood, sharp like broken glass. A roar filled Lyra's head - not sound, but fury - scratching at thought, demanding surrender to instinct
Teeth pressed into soft flesh, pressure building till copper filled her mouth.
Something stirred in Kael as well.
Her eyes caught the stiffness crawling into his arms. A quick gasp slipped out before he could stop it. Darkness pooled in his stare, nose twitching like something wild had just stepped too close.
"What," he began, voice low and sharp, "is standing before me?"
A sudden shift backward came over the group. Their feet moved before their minds caught up.
Her eyes locked onto his, though every part of her wanted to look away.
"A healer," she repeated. "My name is Lyra."
A half-truth slipped out before she could stop it.
Close by, Kael moved forward one pace.
Then another.
Foot by foot, the tug grew sharper - fire raced across her skin, pressure built behind her ribs, while her wolf fought the bindings woven through her thoughts by the witches. Every movement fed the storm.
Fury rose without warning, built to shield what felt fragile.
This is him.
The butcher.
The monster.
Fingers trembled at the thought of what lay tucked under fabric - cold metal waiting. The weight called to them, restless.
Kael stood back just enough to keep distance.
"You don't smell like a healer," he said quietly. "You smell like a battlefield."
Her heart stuttered.
"I've treated many wounded wolves," she replied. "Blood lingers."
His jaw tightened.
That is not true, he stated without emotion.
Fear ought to have gripped her at those words.
A sharp twist tightened inside her ribs instead.
Good.
Hatred doesn't need your permission to grow.
A shiver ran through Kael as he watched the stranger step closer. His wolf pulled back - tight, wary - as if something deep inside knew better than to stay still. He'd seen threats before, faced danger without blinking, yet this moment felt different. Not fear exactly, but a warning humming beneath his skin. Never in recent memory had another person caused that kind of reaction. The air shifted, thin and sharp. Even silence seemed louder now.
A shadow moved before him - small, hair like midnight, gaze steady where it should've been wild. That quiet alarm inside him roared back, alive again after years, not stirred even once until now, not since fire took her under a blood-streaked moon.
A force tugged hard. It could not be ignored.
Impossible.
Not her.
Ferocity surged through the link, tearing into him - insistence like teeth - and that raw pull made Kael recoil without delay.
Once before, life had stripped him bare. Fate left nothing behind that time.
"I didn't call for you," he said coldly. "I called for a pack-trained healer."
Fingers curling at her sides, Lyra raised her face. "Send me away then."
A low growl rumbled deep in the animal's throat when that thought came up.
Close up, he watched her. Not trust, but worse tugged at him. Wrong smell clung to her - mixed, warped, threaded through with ancient power that set his nerves on edge.
Weaponized.
And yet…
A glance slipped down to her neck.
Bare. Vulnerable.
A wave of need to shield her hit him, strong enough to spin his thoughts. He staggered under its weight without meaning to.
A sudden retreat marked Kael's movement backward.
"You'll stay," he said sharply, more to himself than to her. "Under guard. One wrong move, and you're dead."
Her chin dipped forward, a quiet yes hanging in the air between movements. Stillness followed, shaped by choice.
A sound rose in her chest - her wolf grinning beneath the skin.
Later on, sleep didn't come for Lyra - she stayed wide awake in the room where they tended to the hurt, eyes fixed upward. The ceiling held her gaze through hours that dragged slow.
A silence hung there, sharp like glass. Nothing out of place, nothing left to chance.
She hated it.
A shiver ran through her skin at the memory of Kael's touch. With each breath, something felt missing - his smell gone, leaving only emptiness. That absence cut deeper than steel ever could.
Off track. Not what was mapped out.
Her fingers touched her ribs, hoping to quiet the pain inside. A breath came slow, then another, each one uneven.
Fury rose in her chest the moment the link sparked - though the elders spoke of balance, they never said how hunger might twist inside loathing until breathing hurt. The air thickened each time he neared - not just rage burning beneath skin, but something restless clawing at her ribs when his shadow crossed hers.
On her side she turned -
And froze.
Kael stood in the doorway.
Into the room he came without a sound. She stayed unaware of his presence.
A hush fell where the light touched him, tracing the pale line of healed skin across his ribs. What lived behind his stare wasn't anger, nor sorrow - something quieter, deeper. The night air held its breath around that look.
"You are awake," he remarked.
Lyra sat up slowly. "I don't sleep easily in enemy territory."
One corner of his mouth lifted. "Fine." He said it slow
A hush followed his entrance, the latch snapping shut like a secret being sealed. The sound stretched out, louder than it should have been.
Her pulse spiked.
"Explain," he said.
"Explain what?"
"Why my wolf wants to tear this place apart because of you."
Static hummed in the space they shared.
Lyra swallowed.
I don't know, she said - this moment marked something different. For once, her words held just enough truth.
Almost at the edge now, Kael paused. A sharp tug came then - sudden - and she gasped, even though she tried not to react.
"If this is a trick," he said quietly, "it will be the last one you ever attempt."
Up her gaze snapped, locking onto him.
"I didn't come here to hurt you," she said.
A sharp sting snapped through the link when the false words came.
A shiver ran down Kael's spine - his gaze tightened. The air between his brows grew sharp.
"You're lying again."
Through clenched fingers, the fabric bunched up tight. Sheets twisted where her palms pressed down hard.
Don't break.
Don't feel.
"I came here," Lyra said, voice low, steady, "because you asked for a healer."U
Instead, she whispered, "Someone you should stay away from."
Outside, thunder rolled.
Beneath the frozen earth, far below where the wolves run, something old started waking up.