Lyra woke the next morning with the type of headache that comes from a dream you're sure mattered, but can't hold onto long enough to understand. Something about shadows. A voice. Maybe trees? Or eyes. It slipped away from her like fog the moment she tried to grab it. She sat up slowly and pressed both hands to her temples, trying to settle her heartbeat. It felt… wrong. Or off. Or like it was beating for someone else.
Zack's name drifted into her mind. Not spoken. More like felt.
She stood, breathing deep, trying to shake off the strange heaviness. Her room was too quiet. Too still. She crossed to the window and dragged the curtains open. The sunlight warmed her shoulders, but didn't warm anything inside her. She hadn't felt truly steady since the day he marked her.
The world moved, too fast, when she closed her eyes again.
The first vision had hit her right before sunrise. One blink and she was staring through someone else's eyes, inside a small house that smelled damp, like old wood left out in the rain. His hand, Zack's hand, scarred across the knuckles, rested on a table. Exhaustion pulled at muscles that weren't hers. Voices muttered somewhere nearby, men talking low and worried.
Then she jerked awake, gasping.
She thought maybe the cold water splashed on her face might help. It didn't. The moment the water hit her skin, another vision crashed into her.
Zack ran through a forest in wolf form this time. Fast. So fast the wind burned his eyes. Branches slapped against his arms and shoulders. His breath came hard and sharp, and underneath everything was one pulsing thought, raw, wild, and frighteningly familiar.
*Find her.
Lyra stumbled back from the sink hard enough that the pipes rattled.
"Oh no, not again," she whispered, laying a shaking hand over her face.
It wasn't just him showing up in her dreams anymore. She was slipping into his. Or into his mind, she didn't know the difference. Sometimes she sensed the exact moment he realized she was there, like his awareness brushed hers in a soft, quick sweep.
Worse were the times when *he* slipped into *her*.
Mid-training, she'd suddenly felt his frustration. Walking home, she'd sensed his curiosity, he kept focusing on the warmth of her pack house. Late at night, she'd felt fear and anger twist together inside him. She tried to ignore it, tried to pretend none of this was happening.
But the bond did not care what she wanted.
By midday, Lyra forced herself into council work just to distract her mind. But even as she laid reports on the table, images flickered at the edges of her vision, Zack sitting near a fire, rubbing at his shoulder, looking tired down to the bone. When he lifted his head, she felt his attention snap toward her. It wasn't full recognition. More like a question.
She almost dropped the papers.
"Lyra?" someone said sharply.
She turned and found Sebastian watching her. He looked… worn out. Eyes shadowed. Jaw tense. His worry was evident, though he tried hard to mask it.
"You're not yourself lately," he said. "Don't lie, I can see it."
"I'm just tired." She forced a light shrug, as if she hadn't just been somewhere else entirely seconds before. "Training. Work. Everything piling up."
He took a step a bit closer, lowering his voice. "This isn't just stress. You've been drifting off. You jump at every sound. You barely look at me anymore."
She kept her face smooth. Calm. It took effort. "Sebastian, I'm fine."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "You're not. And I don't know why you won't tell me what's happening."
Under his stare, the bond pushed at her again. Zack's emotions brushed her like a breeze, curiosity first, then confusion, and then something that felt almost possessive. Lyra held in a breath, forcing it all down.
"I promise," she said softly, "I'm fine."
He didn't believe her. It was there in the way his jaw tightened, the stiffening of his shoulders. Something in him shifted, like a crack forming.
It wasn't until after he had finally gone that the silence was oppressive. It settled upon her like a thick blanket she couldn't push off. She was alone then, expelling a breath that she hadn't realized she had been holding. The bond tugged softly against her ribs, almost as if someone was knocking from the inside.
She had wanted dreamless sleep that night. Only one night of peace.
But the moment she closed her eyes, the world folded into something else.
She was once more in the forest, bathed by moonlight in eerie silver. The air hummed with energy that was neither dangerous nor safe-just charged. Alive.
And then she saw him.
Zack.
But this time, he wasn't a blur or distant. Not just a passing vision. Not some half-dream. He stood a few feet in front of her, almost as if he had been waiting. His eyes glowed softly, silver rather than the harder tone she remembered. He looked confused, hesitant-but not angry.
"You again," he muttered, his voice sounding raw, like that of a man who hadn't slept in days. "Why can't I stop thinking about you?"
Lyra swallowed. Hard. "I don't know. But the same thing is happening to me."
The forest around them seemed to vibrate. The bond felt alive, pulling, tightening, linking them in ways they didn't understand. She felt his heartbeat. Felt her own reacting to it.
They stared at each other, not like strangers, not like enemies, but like two people standing on the edge of something both dangerous and inevitable.
"What are you to me?" he asked quietly. There was no threat in his voice. Only confusion. Curiosity. Something softer beneath it.
Lyra opened her mouth to speak,
But the world tore apart, and she awoke gasping.
Her heartbeat was racing. Not just hers. His too.
One truth settled in her chest with terrifying clarity: They could no longer act as if nothing was happening. Something was awakening between them, the emergence of something neither was able to stop.