The secret did not come with thunder.
It came with a book.
Lyra found it waiting on her desk when she returned from training—old, leather-bound, its edges darkened with age. No seal. No note. Just her name etched faintly into the cover, as if the book itself had been waiting for her hands.
Her wolf stirred uneasily.
"Kael?" she called softly.
He was across the room, removing his gauntlets. The moment he saw the book, his posture changed—alert, wary.
"That wasn't there this morning," he said.
Lyra swallowed. "It has my name on it."
Kael crossed the room in two strides. "Don't touch it yet."
Too late.
The moment her fingers brushed the cover, the room shifted.
Not violently—quietly. The air thickened. The wards hummed. The book fell open on its own, pages flipping rapidly until they stopped on a symbol Lyra had never seen… and yet somehow recognized.
Her chest tightened.
"It's reacting to you," Kael said, voice low.
Before Lyra could answer, slow applause echoed from the doorway.
Nyx Raventhorn stepped inside without invitation.
"Well," she said smoothly, violet eyes gleaming, "I was beginning to wonder how long it would take."
Kael moved instantly, placing himself between Nyx and Lyra. "Get out."
Nyx lifted her hands placidly. "Relax. If I wanted her harmed, I wouldn't have waited this long." Her gaze slid past him to Lyra. "Hello, heir."
Lyra frowned. "Heir to what?"
Nyx's smile deepened.
"To the bloodline Romance Academy buried."
The words landed like a blade.
Kael turned sharply. "What are you talking about?"
Nyx walked closer, unhurried, her boots echoing softly against the stone floor. The book trembled.
"Lyra Vale is not a coincidence," Nyx said. "She's not a late bloomer. She's not just 'rare.' She is descended from the First Bondbearers."
Lyra's breath hitched. "That's impossible. They're myths."
Nyx laughed quietly. "That's what they wanted you to believe."
She reached out—not touching Lyra, but the air near her—and the symbol on the page flared to life.
Images flooded the room.
Ancient figures standing in circles of light. Wolves and witches bound not by fate, but by choice, weaving bonds strong enough to stabilize magic itself. At the center of them all stood a woman whose silver eyes mirrored Lyra's own.
Lyra staggered back.
"That's—" Her voice broke. "That looks like me."
Kael caught her, his arms firm around her shoulders. "Easy. Breathe."
Nyx watched with open fascination. "She was called Aelira, the First Anchor. Her bloodline existed to do one thing—strengthen bonds simply by existing. When she died, the academy fractured. Power grew unstable. Bonds became scarce."
Lyra shook her head, overwhelmed. "You're lying."
Nyx met her gaze steadily. "Then tell me why the forbidden ritual shattered the moment you entered the circle. Tell me why your bond reacts to broken ones. Tell me why the ancient magic beneath this place knows your name."
Silence roared.
Kael's grip tightened. "If this is true… why hide it?"
"Because anchors are dangerous," Nyx replied coolly. "They don't just strengthen love. They expose weakness. They make imbalance unbearable."
Lyra's chest ached. "So people like Ivy… her bond—"
"Collapsed faster in your presence," Nyx finished softly. "Yes."
Kael's voice was sharp. "You're saying Lyra caused that?"
"No," Nyx said. "I'm saying the truth did."
Lyra pulled free gently and stepped forward, hands trembling. "Why are you telling me this now?"
Nyx's eyes softened—not kindly, but sincerely. "Because the academy will turn on you once they realize what you are. And because Kael's bond with you is already altering power structures."
Kael bristled. "You think this will make me leave her?"
Nyx finally looked at him fully. "No. I think it will make you afraid for her."
Lyra felt it then—the shift in Kael's heartbeat through the bond. Not doubt. Fear.
For her.
"You knew," Lyra whispered to Nyx. "You waited."
"Yes," Nyx admitted. "Because now the choice matters."
"What choice?" Lyra demanded.
Nyx stepped back, her voice echoing softly. "Whether you remain an anchor… or become a weapon."
She turned to leave.
"Nyx!" Lyra called.
Nyx paused at the door. "The council meets tomorrow. They will ask you to submit to testing. To regulation. To control." Her gaze flicked to Kael. "And they will ask him if loving you is worth destabilizing the academy."
The door closed.
The room felt suddenly too small.
Lyra sank onto the bed, shaking. "She's right. They'll be afraid of me."
Kael knelt in front of her, taking her hands. "Listen to me."
Her eyes met his—wet, frightened. "What if staying with me hurts everyone?"
He shook his head fiercely. "What if leaving you destroys me?"
Her breath caught.
"I don't love you because you're powerful," he continued, voice raw. "I love you because you are you. Gentle. Brave. Stubborn when it matters." He pressed his forehead to hers. "If the academy wants to chain you, they'll have to go through me."
Tears spilled freely now. "I never asked for this bloodline."
"I know," he whispered. "But you choose what it becomes."
A knock sounded at the door—urgent.
Selene rushed in, eyes wide. "They're talking already. Professors. Council members. They know something's different about Lyra."
Lyra stood slowly.
Fear gave way to resolve.
"Then they'll hear it from me," she said quietly.
Kael stood beside her, unwavering. "From us."
The bond flared—not explosive, not wild.
Steady. Certain. Unyielding.
Deep beneath Romance Academy, ancient magic stirred again—not curious now, not cautious.
Hopeful.
Because the blood it had been waiting for had finally remembered itself.
And this time… it would not be buried.