Lyrae's POV
The knife is cold against my wrist.
Not sharp enough to cut—not yet. Just cold enough to remind me I'm still alive when I shouldn't be.
"Lyrae, please. Put it down."
Riven's voice sounds far away, like he's calling from underwater. My younger brother stands at the edge of the clearing, hands raised like I'm a wild animal about to bolt. Maybe I am.
"Go away," I whisper, pressing the blade harder against my skin. Not cutting. Just feeling. "You shouldn't be here."
"Neither should you." He takes a step closer, and I see his eyes are red. He's been crying again. We all have. "It's been six months. You can't keep coming here every night."
"Watch me."
The grave marker in front of me is simple—just a carved stone with Caelan's name and the date he died. Six months, two weeks, and three days ago. I've counted every single hour.
My brother. My best friend. The person who was supposed to live forever.
And I'm the one who got to stay.
"Mom's worried about you," Riven says softly. He's thirteen—four years younger than me—but right now he sounds like the adult. "Dad too. They think you're... they think you might hurt yourself."
The knife trembles in my hand. "Would that be so bad?"
"YES!" Riven's shout echoes through the forest, scaring birds from the trees. "Yes, it would be bad! Caelan died so you could live, Lyrae. So WE could live. And you're just... you're throwing it away!"
"He died because of ME!" The words rip out of my throat like broken glass. "I was supposed to be on that mission. I was supposed to go with him. But I was sick that day—do you remember? I had a stupid fever and stayed home, and Caelan went without me. He died because I wasn't there to watch his back!"
"That's not—"
"It should have been me!" I'm standing now, the knife clutched in my shaking fist. "Everyone knows it. Caelan was strong, brave, perfect. I'm just... I'm nothing. I can't fight like him. I can't lead like him. I'm useless, Riven. The wrong sibling survived, and everyone knows it."
Silence falls between us. In the distance, I hear the evening sounds of our village—people laughing, cooking, living their normal lives. Like the world didn't end six months ago.
"You're not useless," Riven finally says. His voice cracks. "You're my sister. And I already lost one. I can't... I can't lose you too, Lyrae. Please."
The knife falls from my hand.
I don't remember dropping it. I don't remember Riven crossing the clearing and wrapping his skinny arms around me. I don't remember falling to my knees in front of Caelan's grave, sobbing so hard I can't breathe.
But I remember Riven holding me while I break into a thousand pieces.
"I miss him so much," I gasp against my brother's shoulder. "Every day, I wake up and forget he's gone. And then I remember, and it's like losing him all over again."
"I know." Riven's crying too now. "I miss him too. But he loved you, Lyrae. He wouldn't want this."
We stay like that until the sun sets and the forest grows dark. Finally, Riven helps me stand. My legs feel like water.
"Come on," he says gently. "Let's go home. Mom made your favorite soup."
I nod, too tired to argue. We walk back through the forest in silence. But when we reach our family's house, something feels wrong.
All the lights are on. Every single one.
And there are voices inside—loud, urgent voices that make my stomach twist.
Riven and I exchange glances. We creep closer to the window and peek inside.
Our father, Commander Jaxon, stands in the middle of the room in his full military uniform. He's talking to our mother, Seraphine, but her face is white with fear. Around them stand at least ten soldiers, all armed and ready for battle.
"When did this happen?" Mom's voice shakes.
"Three days ago," Dad says grimly. "We just got confirmation tonight. The Ashborn have him at their stronghold in the Fire Mountains."
My blood turns to ice. Him. They said "him."
"We leave at dawn," Dad continues. "I'm taking my best team. We'll get in, grab Orion, and get out before they know what hit them."
Orion. My youngest brother. He's only nine years old.
I burst through the door without thinking. "Orion was captured? When? Why didn't anyone tell me?"
Everyone turns to stare. Mom gasps. Dad's face hardens.
"Lyrae," he says carefully. "This doesn't concern you."
"Doesn't CONCERN me? He's my brother!"
"Which is exactly why you're staying here." Dad's voice is final. "This is a military operation. We can't have emotional complications."
"Emotional complications?" I feel something hot and sharp rising in my chest—anger, maybe, or desperation. "You mean you can't have me mess up and get another brother killed?"
Mom flinches. Dad's jaw tightens.
"That's not what I—"
"No, I get it." The words keep pouring out, bitter and sharp. "Everyone thinks it. The useless daughter who can't fight, can't help, can't do anything except get people killed. Well, I'm going with you whether you like it or not. Orion is my brother, and I'm not losing anyone else."
"Lyrae, no," Mom starts, but I'm already heading for my room to pack.
Behind me, I hear Dad sigh. "Let her come," he says quietly. "Maybe it's time she learned what war really costs."
I freeze in the hallway, my hand on the doorframe.
What war really costs? I want to scream. I already know. It costs everything.
But I don't say anything. I just go to my room and start packing.
Tomorrow, we're going into enemy territory. Into the land of fire and death. Into the place where Caelan died.
And somewhere deep inside me, under the grief and guilt and pain, a small voice whispers: Maybe I won't come back either. Maybe that's okay.
I'm shoving clothes into my bag when Riven appears in my doorway.
"Lyrae," he whispers, his face pale. "I heard something. While Dad was talking to the soldiers before you came in."
"What?"
He glances down the hall, making sure no one's listening. Then he leans close.
"This isn't just a rescue mission," he breathes. "It's a trap. The Ashborn WANT us to come. They're going to ambush the whole family."
My heart stops.
"What are you talking about?"
"I heard one of the soldiers say it—they intercepted an Ashborn message. This whole thing with Orion being captured? It's bait. They want to kill Dad, Mom, all of us. To destroy the Verdana family completely."
Ice floods my veins. "Did you tell Dad?"
"I tried! But he won't listen. He says the intelligence is solid, that we can handle anything the Ashborn throw at us. He's too focused on saving Orion to see the truth."
We stare at each other in horror.
Tomorrow, my family is walking into a trap. And there's nothing I can do to stop it.
"We have to tell someone," I start, but Riven grabs my arm.
"Who? Dad won't listen. And if we tell anyone else, they'll stop the mission. Then Orion dies for sure."
He's right. We're trapped—go on the mission and walk into an ambush, or stay home and let Orion die.
There's no good choice.
"So what do we do?" I whisper.
Riven's jaw sets with determination I've never seen before. "We go. And we watch each other's backs. Because if this family is going to survive, we need to stick together."
I look at my baby brother—not so much a baby anymore—and feel something shift inside me. Not hope, exactly. But something close.
"Okay," I breathe. "Together."
We stand there in the darkness, two siblings who've already lost too much, knowing that tomorrow might take everything else.
Outside, the wind picks up. In the distance, thunder rolls across the mountains.
And somewhere in the enemy lands of fire and ash, I swear I feel something watching. Waiting.
Hunting.