Astra's POV
Astra fought against the guards' grip as they dragged her down the long hallway. Her sister Lyra was living! After ten years of thinking she was dead, feeling guilty for her death, Lyra was standing right there. And now these guards were pulling her away before she could even talk to her sister.
"Let me go!" Astra kicked at the nearest guard's leg. "I need to speak with my sister!"
"Alpha's orders," the guard growled, tightening his hold.
They stopped in front of a huge wooden door with silver wolf heads carved into it. One guard knocked three times, and a deep voice from inside said, "Enter."
The door swung open, and Astra was pushed into the room so hard she fell to her knees. When she looked up, her breath caught in her throat.
Alaric sat on a smaller throne, much like the one in the great hall but made for his private chambers. His ice-blue eyes locked onto hers, and Astra's mate mark burned so strongly she gasped from the pain.
"Leave us," Alaric told the guards. They bowed and backed out, closing the door with a heavy thud.
For a long moment, Alaric just stared at her. Astra climbed to her feet, refusing to kneel before him any longer.
"Why did you run?" he finally asked, his voice quiet but sharp.
"You locked me up," Astra shot back. "Was I supposed to stay and wait for you to kill me?"
Alaric's eyes narrowed. "If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't be standing here now."
He stood and walked toward her. Each step he took made the pull between them stronger. Astra's heart beat faster. Part of her wanted to back away, but another part—the part tied to the mate bond—wanted to move closer.
"My sister is alive," Astra said, her voice shaking. "You knew. All this time, you knew she didn't die."
"Yes."
The simple word hit Astra like a slap. "Why? Why would you keep that from me? Do you know what I've been through? Ten years believing I was guilty for her death!"
Alaric's face stayed cold. "It was necessary."
"Necessary?" Astra's hands balled into fists. The strange blue light started to glow around them. "Necessary for what? To make me suffer?"
"To protect you both," Alaric said. He reached for her hand, and unlike with the guards, the blue light didn't push him back. Instead, it seemed to wrap around both of them, joining them.
Astra tried to pull away, but Alaric held on. "Let go of me."
"I can't," he said, and for the first time, she heard something like pain in his words. "The Moon Goddess made sure of that."
"What do you mean?"
"The prophecy," Alaric said. "The Moon Sisters. One to lead, one to fight. One with power over light, one with power over darkness. Together, they will either save our kind or destroy it."
Astra's head spun. "What are you talking about? What prophecy?"
Before Alaric could answer, the door burst open. Lyra ran in, her face streaked with tears.
"Astra!" She threw her arms around her sister. "I can't believe it's really you!"
Astra tensed, remembering Damon's warning. Don't trust Lyra. But how could she not trust her own sister?
"I thought you were dead," Astra whispered. "For ten years, I thought I'd killed you."
Lyra pulled back, confusion on her face. "Killed me? Why would you think that?"
"They told me you drowned because of me. Because I took you to the forbidden forest."
Lyra looked at Alaric, something passing between them that Astra couldn't read.
"That's not what happened," Lyra said carefully. "I was taken—to protect me. Just like Alaric said."
"Taken by who? Protected from what?" Astra wanted.
"From those who want to stop the prophecy," Alaric said. "The same people who will now be hunting you both."
A howl rang out from somewhere in the house. Then another. And another. Soon the air was filled with the sound of wolves calling to each other.
Alaric's head snapped up. "They're here."
"Who's here?" Astra asked, fear creeping into her voice.
"The Silver Claws," Lyra whispered. "They've found us."
Alaric moved quickly to a cabinet and pulled out a silver knife. He gave it to Astra. "You'll need this."
"I don't understand—"
The castle shook as something hit it—something big. Dust fell from the roof.
"No time to explain," Alaric said. He grabbed Astra's arm, and again, the blue light appeared, stronger this time. "You need to get to the holy cave. Both of you."
"What about Damon?" Astra asked. "We can't leave him locked up."
Alaric's face darkened. "He's not what you think he is, Astra."
"What does that mean?"
Another boom shook the castle. Shouts and growls rumbled through the halls.
"Go with Lyra," Alaric ordered. "She knows the way to the cave."
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what's happening!" Astra pulled away from him. "Who are the Silver Claws? What do they want with us? And what did you mean about Damon?"
Alaric grabbed her shoulders. For the first time, she saw real feeling in his eyes—fear.
"The Silver Claws are a pack of assassins who hunt wolves with special skills. Wolves like you and Lyra. They've been looking for the Moon Sisters for centuries. And Damon—" Alaric's jaw tightened. "Damon is one of them."
Astra felt like the ground had disappeared beneath her feet. "No. That's a lie. Damon is my friend. He's been protecting me for years."
"Keeping you isolated, you mean," Lyra cut in. "Making sure you never found your way back to your real pack—to your mate."
Before Astra could answer, the door burst open again. A warrior covered in blood stumbled in.
"Alpha! They've breached the east wall! There are too many!"
Alaric cursed. "Take them to the tunnels," he told the warrior. "Make sure they reach the sacred cave."
"What about you?" Astra found herself asking, shocking even herself with how much she cared.
Alaric's eyes softened for just a moment as they met hers. "I'll find you."
He leaned forward quickly and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was short but intense. When he pulled back, Astra felt dizzy from the rush of feelings it caused.
"Go," he whispered.
The warrior grabbed Astra's arm and pulled her toward a secret door in the wall. Lyra followed.
As they slipped into the secret tunnel, Astra looked back one last time. Alaric stood watching her, his face a mask of determination and something else—something that looked almost like desire.
The passage door closed, leaving them in darkness except for the torch the fighter carried.
"This way," he said, leading them down a narrow stone tunnel.
They ran through the dim cave, hearing the sounds of fighting above them. Astra's mind raced. Damon was one of the Silver Claws? Her friend who had protected her all these years—had it all been a lie?
They turned a corner, and suddenly Astra stopped. A familiar smell hit her nose.
"What's wrong?" Lyra asked.
"I smell—" Astra didn't finish, because there he was. Damon stood in front of them, blocking the tunnel.
"Damon!" Astra cried. "How did you escape?"
But the look on his face made her blood run cold. In his hand was a silver knife, just like the one Alaric had given her.
"I'm sorry, Astra," Damon said, his eyes filled with pain. "But I can't let the prophecy come true."
Behind her, Lyra gasped. The knight who had been leading them drew his sword.
And that's when Astra felt it—a sharp pinch on her neck. She reached up and pulled out a small dart.
"Lyra?" she whispered as her vision began to blur. She turned to see her sister holding a small blowgun, a sad smile on her face.
"Sorry, sister," Lyra said as Astra's legs gave out beneath her. "But there can only be one Moon Sister. And it's going to be me."
The last thing Astra saw before darkness took her was Damon and Lyra standing side by side, looking down at her with matching looks of triumph.