The sun never rose peacefully over the Crescent Moon Pack again.
Kian stood on the balcony of his packhouse, staring at the crimson tint still staining the morning sky. The Blood Moon's echo had lingered through the night — a bad omen whispered through every corner of the territory. Wolves had woken restless, howling at shadows. The pack seer had collapsed mid-vision, muttering only two words before losing consciousness:
"She returns."
Now those words gnawed at Kian like claws in his chest.
"Alpha," Beta Rowan called from behind him, bowing slightly. "You should see this."
Kian turned. Rowan's face was pale, his scent tense with unease. He held out a bundle — shredded cloth streaked with mud and silver dust. Kian froze. It was faint, but unmistakable — the scent clinging to it was one he could never forget.
Lyra.
His wolf surged inside him, growling her name like a ghost.
"Where did you find this?" Kian's voice came out rougher than he intended.
"Near the northern ridge," Rowan replied. "Scouts said the ground was burned… like magic."
The Alpha's eyes narrowed. His pulse thudded louder, sharper.
"Burned?"
Rowan nodded. "Like something struck the earth with lightning — but there wasn't a storm."
Kian's gaze shifted toward the horizon, where clouds still churned red and silver. He could almost hear her laughter in the wind — distant, mocking.
"She's dead," he whispered, though his voice faltered.
Rowan hesitated. "Alpha… maybe she isn't."
A low growl tore from Kian's throat. He hated how the thought relieved him — and terrified him at the same time. He had buried her himself. He had watched her fall.
Hadn't he?
The doors to the council room slammed open, breaking his thoughts. Elder Mira, the pack's seer, stumbled in, her white eyes glowing faintly. She clutched her staff so tightly her knuckles whitened.
"The Blood Moon speaks," she rasped, her voice trembling. "The rejected one walks again. Her heart beats between worlds — wolf and witch."
The room fell silent.
Kian's heart stuttered.
"What do you mean, 'between worlds'?" he demanded.
Mira's gaze turned to him, ancient and knowing. "The goddess has chosen her. And if you stand in her path, Kian, you will fall before her does."
A hush filled the room. The Alpha of the Crescent Moon Pack, feared by all, suddenly felt the weight of fear settle on his own shoulders.
"Find her," he ordered finally, his voice low and cold. "Alive or dead, I want her brought to me."
Rowan frowned. "And if she doesn't want to be found?"
Kian's eyes flashed gold, his wolf pushing to the surface. "Then I'll remind her who rejected who."
Outside, thunder rolled again though no storm brewed — only the haunting whisper of a wolf who was no longer the same girl he'd cast away.