As I raced toward the pack’s armory, grabbing whatever I could find to arm myself, a terrifying thought crossed my mind—why would rogue wolves target Lyra and our men so brazenly? And was Aiden critically injured, too?
Minutes felt like hours as I tore through the forest on all fours, my wolf form pushing to its limits. My heart pounded with every stride, each beat echoing Lyra’s name in my head. I prayed silently, hoping against hope that she was holding on.
When I finally reached the scene, the sight before me was more horrifying than I had imagined. The guards were engaged in a fierce battle with a group of rogues, blood and fur flying in every direction. And there, lying amidst the chaos, was my daughter.
Oh...goddess.
I shifted back to human form and rushed to her side, my breath catching in my throat as I took in her condition. Her small body lay crumpled on the ground, bruised and battered, blood trickling from a gash on her forehead. She was unconscious, her skin pallid and her breathing shallow.
“Lyra, my baby,” I whispered, cradling her head in my lap. My vision blurred with tears, the reality of the situation hitting me like a physical blow. “Please, stay with me. I’m here.”