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Lyra groaned and slumped back in her chair. “Look, I didn’t come here to get emotionally scolded over tea. I came to ask about shifters. More specifically,wolf shifters. More specifically than that—Moonfang lore.”

Calla leaned forward, resting her chin on her fist. “That’s a lot of specificity for someone who just said she didn’t cause a magical apocalypse.”

“I’ve been reading,” Lyra muttered. “In the Keep’s archives. Old bonding lore. Mate stuff. There’s some weird holes in the records, and a few things didn’t translate well, but?—”

“You think Jace is your mate?” Calla asked bluntly.

Lyra sputtered. “No! Maybe? I don’tknow! That’s the thing. I’m a witch, remember? We don’t get mate bonds. At least not like that. My coven was all about soul alignments and magical compatibility charts and ‘is your aura clashing with his?’ tea readings.”

Calla chuckled. “So no wolf stuff.”

“None,” Lyra said. “And now this… thisthingwith Jace—he’s tense around me. Not the normal grumpy-pants alpha kind of tense. More like if-you-touch-me-I-might-snarl tense.”

“He saved you,” Calla said softly.

Lyra looked away. “Yeah. And then told me to be more careful like I’d run off with a torch and a map to chaos town.”

Calla was quiet for a long beat.

“Do you want the mystical version, or the practical version?”

Lyra leaned in. “Both. Hit me with the full moon-shaped truth.”

Calla nodded. “Okay. So—wolves, especially alphas, imprint through scent and energy. Their bond—when it forms—isundeniable. It’s not subtle. When a shifter meets their true mate, their instincts go into overdrive. It’s like their soulknows, even if the other person doesn’t.”

Lyra's stomach tightened. “Even if the other person is a witch?”

“It’s rare,” Calla admitted. “But not impossible. Especially here, under the Moonlit Veil. The magic here... it likes balance. And itlovesdrama.”

Lyra exhaled sharply. “So if—if—he felt the bond... wouldn’t he have said something?”

“Not necessarily. Especially not Jace.”

“Why?”

Calla tilted her head, eyes sad and fond at the same time. “Because Jace carries his duty like armor. Since his father vanished, he’s held this entire town on his shoulders. He doesn’t let people in because he’s afraid if he slips up, everything will fall apart.”

“And I’m a walking magical oops,” Lyra muttered.

“No,” Calla said, firm. “You’re magic that doesn’t fit in a box. And maybe that terrifies him.”

Lyra sat back, hands curling around her mug. Her chest felt tight. Not painful—just full. Like too many feelings were competing for space.

“I felt something,” she whispered. “When he caught me the other day. It was like... like time hiccuped. And when he looked at me…”

“His wolf saw you,” Calla said softly. “And that’s not something you can unsee.”

“But he pulled away.”

“Because he doesn’t want to feel it,” Calla said. “And maybe because he’s scared you won’t feel it back.”

Lyra looked up sharply.

“I’m just saying,” Calla added with a shrug. “He’s not used to people choosing him. Not forhim. You may be the first person to see past the alpha and the duty.”

Lyra swallowed, throat dry.

“Well that’s deeply inconvenient,” she muttered.