Lyra hadn't always been brave.
She'd been trained to act brave — speak clearly, sit straight, give commands — but that wasn't real courage. That was performance. What she did now, walking through a land filled with her enemies, beside a man she barely trusted, was real.
And it terrified her.
---
It had been two days since the ambush.
Two days since the bond had formed.
Since then, Lyra and Torin had traveled across dry hills and half-burned valleys, moving at night, hiding during the day. They spoke little. But the silence between them didn't feel empty. It felt charged — full of unspoken thoughts.
Each night, she learned something new about their connection.
She could tell when Torin was in pain — even if he didn't show it.
She could feel his anger before it reached his face.
And worst of all, she sometimes knew his thoughts before he spoke them.
Not words — just feelings. Bursts of emotion. Echoes in her mind that weren't her own.
It scared her more than anything.
Not because of the magic, but because of what it meant.
She was no longer alone in her head.
---
They rested in a ruined outpost by the river — one of the old war stations from the first vampire-wolf conflict. Most of it was stone rubble, broken walls and shattered towers, but the base had held.
"This place is dead," Torin said.
She nodded. "But it remembers blood. That might help."
Torin gave her a look. "You sound like a vampire again."
She gave him a small smirk. "Better than sounding like a grumpy wolf."
He didn't smile.
He rarely did.
But she could tell — through the bond — that it almost amused him.
---
That night, she dreamed of fire.
Buildings burning. People screaming. Her father's voice echoing: "You were supposed to lead, not ruin us."
She woke with a start.
Torin was already awake. Watching the shadows.
"Bad dream?"
"Just the truth," she said.
He didn't ask more.
---
Later that day, as they followed the edge of the broken river, Lyra stopped.
She felt… something.
Not in her mind — in the bond.
A pull. Like a thread tugging at her chest.
Torin noticed. "What is it?"
"I don't know. But I feel… drawn."
He frowned. "It could be a trap."
"It could also be help."
He sighed. "Or both."
She didn't wait.
She followed the feeling, moving fast, past dead trees and old stone markers, until they reached a clearing. And there — standing by a twisted tree — was a boy.
No more than seventeen. Pale, with thick curls and a crossbow too big for him.
He pointed it at them the moment he saw them.
"Stay back!" he yelled. "I'll shoot!"
Lyra raised her hands. "We're not here to hurt you."
Torin stepped forward. "Yet."
She shot him a glare.
The boy's hands shook. "I know what you are."
"Do you?" Lyra asked gently.
"You're the vampire princess. The one who disappeared."
Lyra froze.
Torin's hand went to his blade.
"Who told you that?" she demanded.
"My sister. She's a seer."
Lyra's heart skipped. "Where is she?"
The boy's face fell. "Dead."
---
They lowered their weapons.
He did too.
His name was Riven, and he had been living in the woods alone for weeks.
"My sister saw the blood moon coming," he said. "She said it would change everything. That the bond would awaken. And when it did… I'd have to find it."
"Find what?" Lyra asked.
"The bond," he said simply. "You two."
---
They sat around a small fire he built in a pit of stones.
Riven explained that his sister, Calen, had visions — real ones. Before she died from plague, she left him a journal filled with warnings.
"She said the bond would come between vampire and wolf. That it would start a war. But it would also offer a chance for peace… if the bonded survived."
Lyra looked at Torin.
So did Riven.
"I want to help you," the boy said. "I don't have anything left. But I can fight. I can scout. I know these woods."
"You're a kid," Torin said coldly.
Lyra frowned. "He's brave."
"Brave doesn't mean ready."
"He found us, didn't he?"
Torin looked at Riven again, then back at Lyra.
He didn't say it, but she felt it through the bond.
He was impressed.
Riven sat straighter.
"I don't want to die in the dark," he said. "I want to fight for something."
Lyra's voice was soft but strong. "Then fight with us."
---
That night, the three of them sat together under a red sky.
And just like that, the army began.
With a boy, a vampire, and a wolf.
All broken. All hunted.
All willing to risk everything.
---
The next day, the army grew by one more.
They found her strung upside down in a hunter's trap — a girl with sharp eyes and sharper teeth.
A rogue werewolf.
She woke up swinging.
Torin barely dodged her claws.
Lyra stepped in. "Wait! We're not your enemy."
The girl spat. "I don't have enemies. Just people I haven't bitten yet."
Riven laughed. "I like her."
Her name was Kaia. She had been exiled from her pack after killing her alpha in a challenge.
"I didn't mean to," she said, licking a cut on her arm. "He tripped. Right into my claws."
She looked at Torin. "You're an alpha?"
"I am."
"You gonna try to tame me?"
He didn't blink. "No one can tame fire."
She smiled. "Then I'm in."
---
Two days. Two recruits.
And the bond only grew stronger.
So did the danger.
Because for every step forward, the prophecy tightened its grip.
---
That night, Lyra had another dream.
A red moon.
A crown made of bones.
And Torin — standing alone, covered in blood.
Then a whisper.
"One must die for the other to rise."
She woke up gasping.
And beside her, Torin sat up too.
He'd had the same dream.
---