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She met his eyes, steady as the earth beneath her magic. "Because I know he will."

Ezra rose with a slow sigh, straightening his immaculate coat. "He'll be too late."

"You sure about that?" she asked, a hint of her usual mischief flickering back to life in her voice.

The faintest crack showed in his mask—a tightening around the eyes, a momentary stillness.

Lyra leaned forward, the chains at her ankles clinking softly. "You kidnapped an alpha's mate. You think you've got time? He's probably tearing through every ward line in this forest right now." The image of Jace—storm-grey eyes blazing, shoulders tense with fury—gave her strength.

Ezra's jaw twitched, the only tell in his otherwise perfect composure.

"Yeah," she said softly, seizing the advantage. "That hit a nerve."

Ezra turned, pacing once across the circular room, his reflection distorted in the enchanted window. Then stopped at the enchanted door, his fingers hovering over the pulsing runes. "You'll see. Soon enough. That mark you think you feel? It's nothing but instinct. Biology. And it fades. Eventually."

"You're wrong." Her voice was quiet but certain, like the whisper of a spell that couldn't be undone.

He smiled again, but it didn't reach his eyes. "We'll see."

And then he was gone, the heavy door closing behind him with a sound like finality, leaving the room colder than before. The torchlight flickered, casting long shadows across the floor.

Lyra slumped back against the wall, her breath catching in her chest. The enchanted cuffs bit into her wrists as she exhaled.

She was shaking, the tremors she'd been holding back finally breaking free.

Furious. Scared. Butnot broken. Her silver-streaked curls fell around her face as she closed her eyes, centering herself the way she'd been taught since childhood.

Not yet.

Because shefeltJace now. Clearer than before. A pulse through the bond like a distant heartbeat. A warmth rising beneath the cuffs that bound her, pushing against Ezra's magic with something older and more primal.

A promise.

She clutched it tight, curling her fingers into her palms until her nails left half-moon imprints.

And waited, gathering her strength for what was to come.

30

JACE

Jace didn’t knock.

He shoved open the war room doors at Moonfang Keep, the heavy oak slamming against the stone wall like a thunderclap. The entire room fell silent. The beta council, his lieutenants, a few elders—every last one of them froze mid-sentence at the look on their alpha’s face.

Fury radiated off him in waves.

“Everyone in this room,” Jace growled, “listen carefully. I’m invoking a full-pack emergency search.”

A stir. Murmurs.

One elder, a hawk-eyed fae with a cane more ornamental than functional—rose to speak. “Alpha Montgomery, we haveprotocolsfor?—”

“Protocols,” Jace snapped, eyes flashing silver, “can go to hell.”

Silence.

“I don’t care what strings the council thinks I’m tangled in. Lyra Ravenshade has been taken by Ezra Wolfe’s people, and I’m not waiting on paperwork while she’s out there bound and bleeding.”