Kael caught her as she fell, his growl shaking the floor. His gaze lifted—cold, sharp, murderous.
He looked at me like I was something unholy.
Then he carried her out, wordless. The door slammed behind them.
And I stood there—claws dripping red, the pain in my hand nothing compared to the wound blooming in my chest.
Lyra’s POV
Three days.
That’s how long it had been since Elowen took the punishment meant for Kael—punishment I’d meant to carve into his skin, not hers. But she’d thrown herself between us, and now the memory still echoed in my head like a curse.
My own wound from that vampire’s bite had closed far too quickly. Too clean. Too unnatural. Wolves heal fast, yes—but not like this. Not overnight. Not when the venom that struck me was the same one said to have sent Alpha Thoren Dravenwood into his endless sleep.
Something inside me had changed.
I hadn’t told anyone. Not my father. Not my pack. Not even my wolf, though lately she felt like a stranger anyway—restless, pacing, her voice muffled behind static.
So I drove.