Page 3

LYRA

C ade's first mistake was thinking he could carry an unconscious chaos witch upstairs without consequences.

His second was underestimating how quickly she'd wake up.

Lyra's magic hummed against his skin like a living thing as he navigated the narrow cellar stairs, her weight surprisingly solid in his arms. She smelled like honey and copper pennies and something wild that made his wolf pace restlessly just beneath his skin.

Every instinct he possessed was screaming at him to find somewhere safe and defensible, preferably with only one entrance he could guard.

The inn's kitchen seemed like neutral territory—close enough to the cellar if something went wrong, but far enough from the founder's rune that her magic might settle.

Cade settled her onto one of the mismatched chairs around the old farmhouse table, noting the way her copper curls caught the afternoon light streaming through dust-moted windows.

She was beautiful in a way that hit him like a physical blow. Not the polished, careful beauty he was used to seeing at pack gatherings, but something wilder and more honest. Even unconscious, she radiated power that made his teeth ache.

His wolf was absolutely beside itself with smug satisfaction. Mate, it kept insisting. Finally. Claim her. Keep her.

"Shut up," Cade muttered under his breath, running a hand through his dark hair. The last thing he needed was his wolf deciding to make life decisions for both of them.

Lyra stirred, her amber eyes fluttering open and immediately focusing on his face with startling clarity. For a moment, they simply stared at each other—him frozen in place by the weight of recognition, her blinking in apparent confusion.

Then her gaze sharpened, taking in his unfamiliar face, the fact that she was no longer in the cellar, and the way he was standing way too close to her personal space.

"Okay," she said, her voice surprisingly steady for someone who'd just been magically knocked unconscious.

"So either I'm having the weirdest fever dream of my life, or there's a strange man in my kitchen.

" She paused, tilting her head. "Please tell me you're the fever dream, because the alternative means I need to find a weapon. "

Cade took a careful step back, raising his hands in what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture. "You're not dreaming. I'm Cade Halloway. I felt the magical surge and came to investigate."

"Felt it?" Lyra's eyebrows rose as she pushed herself upright in the chair. "From where, exactly?"

"The forest preserve, about fifteen miles northeast of here." He watched her process that information, saw the moment she realized the implications. "That was a hell of a light show you put on down there."

"I didn't put on anything," Lyra said, though her defensive tone suggested she wasn't entirely convinced. "I just touched the stone and then—" She looked down at her palm, where a faint silvery mark now gleamed against her skin. "Oh. That's new."

Before Cade could respond, Lyra was on her feet and moving toward the kitchen drawers with purpose. She yanked one open, rummaged around for a moment, then turned back to face him with a butter knife clutched in her fist.

"Right," she said, pointing the dull blade in his general direction.

"Here's what's going to happen. You're going to explain who you are, how you got into my inn, and why you were touching me while I was unconscious.

And you're going to do it from over there.

" She gestured with the knife toward the far side of the kitchen.

Cade stared at her for a moment, then felt his mouth twitch despite himself. "You're threatening me with a butter knife."

"It's what was available," Lyra said matter-of-factly. "And I'm very creative with kitchen utensils when properly motivated."

His wolf found her bravado absolutely delightful, which was both inconvenient and completely inappropriate given the circumstances.

Cade forced himself to focus on the practical issues.

"Your front door was open. I could smell magic from the street, and when no one answered.

.." He shrugged. "I followed the trail to the cellar and found you unconscious on the floor. "

"Following mysterious magical trails is just a normal Tuesday for you?"

"In this town? Pretty much." Cade crossed his arms, trying to ignore the way her scent was making it difficult to think clearly. "You're Vera's granddaughter. Lyra."

It wasn't a question, but she nodded anyway. "And you're...?"

"Pack alpha for this territory. Which makes your little light show my responsibility."

Lyra lowered the butter knife slightly. "Pack alpha. As in werewolf pack alpha?"

"Wolf shifter," Cade corrected automatically. "And before you ask, yes, we're integrated with the human community. No, we don't go around biting people. And yes, what you just did downstairs is going to cause problems."

"What kind of problems?"

Cade opened his mouth to explain about founder's runes and ancient seals and the delicate magical balance that kept Mistwhisper Falls hidden from the outside world, then stopped.

How did you explain centuries of supernatural politics to someone who'd clearly been kept in the dark about her own heritage?

"The kind that require a town council meeting and probably several very uncomfortable conversations," he said finally. "That stone you touched—it's been dormant for over a century. Whatever you did to wake it up, it's going to have consequences."

"I didn't do anything," Lyra said, but her voice lacked conviction. "I just touched it. People touch things all the time without causing magical explosions."

"People, yes. Chaos witches with founder bloodlines, apparently not so much."

Lyra set the butter knife down on the counter with a decisive click. "Okay, that's the second time someone's mentioned founder bloodlines to me in two days. What does that even mean?"

Before Cade could answer, the front door chimed and footsteps echoed through the inn. "Lyra? Are you decent? Because I come bearing caffeine and answers to questions you didn't know you had."

"In here," Lyra called, then shot Cade a look that clearly said this conversation wasn't over.

A man appeared in the kitchen doorway carrying a cardboard tray with three coffee cups and wearing the kind of smile that suggested he knew exactly how much chaos he was walking into.

He was tall and lean, with sharp cheekbones and pale eyes that seemed to catch light like water.

His dark hair was perfectly tousled in a way that probably took effort, and he moved with the fluid grace of someone who'd never been clumsy in his life.

"Nico Beaumont," he said, setting the coffee tray on the table and extending a hand to Lyra. "I run The Gossamer Grimoire. And you, my dear, have had quite the exciting afternoon."

Lyra shook his hand, then immediately pulled away with a small frown. "You're cold."

"Fae metabolism," Nico said cheerfully, as if that explained everything. "We run a bit cooler than most. Cade, looking particularly grim today. I take it you felt our new resident's magical debut?"

"Half the supernatural population within twenty miles felt it," Cade said, accepting one of the coffee cups with a nod of thanks. "What do you know about founder's runes?"

"Considerably more than either of you, I'd imagine." Nico settled into one of the kitchen chairs with feline grace. "Though I have to say, Lyra, your timing is impeccable. Most people manage at least a week in Mistwhisper Falls before they accidentally activate ancient magical artifacts."

"I'm an overachiever," Lyra said dryly, wrapping her hands around her coffee cup. The warmth seemed to ground her, and Cade noticed some of the chaotic energy around her settle. "So this founder's rune thing—it's important?"

"Important enough that it's been sleeping peacefully under your grandmother's inn for the better part of two centuries," Nico said.

"The founders of Mistwhisper Falls weren't just ordinary settlers, you see.

They were the three legendary entities of immense power of their time—a witch, a wolf, and a fae. They came here for a reason."

"What reason?" Lyra asked.

Nico's smile turned mysterious. "To bind something that needed binding. To seal something that needed sealing. The runes they left behind are part of that binding—locks on a door that was meant to stay closed."

Cade felt his wolf tense at the implications. "And now one of those locks is cracked."

"Cracked, but not broken," Nico said quickly. "Though I suspect that's more due to Lyra's particular magical signature than any inherent stability in the binding itself."

"My magical signature?"

"Chaos magic with a founder bloodline twist," Nico explained. "Your grandmother Vera was descended from the original witch founder. That's why the rune responded to you—it recognized you as family."

Lyra sat back in her chair, looking stunned. "Vera never told me any of this."

"Vera was protecting you," Cade said, surprising himself by speaking up. "Knowledge like this... it comes with responsibilities. Obligations."

"What kind of obligations?" Lyra's voice had gone carefully neutral, but Cade could smell the wariness radiating off her.

"The kind that tie you to this place," Nico said gently. "The kind that make it very difficult to leave."

Lyra stood up abruptly, pacing to the window that overlooked the overgrown garden. "I just wanted to renovate an inn. Fix up the place, maybe turn it into a successful business. I didn't sign up for ancient magical responsibilities."

"None of us sign up for what we are," Cade said, his voice rougher than he intended. "But that doesn't change the reality."

She turned to face him, and something in her expression made his chest tighten. "And what reality is that?"

"That you're not just Vera's granddaughter anymore. You're a founder descendant who's awakened a rune that's been dormant for centuries. Whether you like it or not, you're part of this town's magical ecosystem now."

"And if I don't want to be?"

The question hung in the air like a challenge.

Cade felt his wolf surge beneath his skin, responding to what it perceived as a threat to their mate's safety.

The idea of her leaving, of walking away from Mistwhisper Falls and never coming back, sent a spike of something dangerously close to panic through his system.

His control, already strained from being in close proximity to her scent, began to slip.

"That's not really an option," he said, his voice dipped to a low rumble that made pack members step carefully around him.

Lyra's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"The rune is bound to you now. Leaving town would be..." Cade paused, trying to find a way to explain without sounding like he was threatening her. "Inadvisable."

"Inadvisable," Lyra repeated flatly. "As in dangerous, or as in you and your pack won't let me?"

Cade's wolf was pacing now, agitated by her obvious distress and his own inability to simply claim her and be done with it. The rational part of his mind knew he was handling this badly, but the scent of her magic and the pull of the mate bond was making it difficult to think clearly.

"As in the magical consequences could be severe," he managed. "For you and for the town."

"How convenient."

Nico cleared his throat delicately. "Perhaps we should table this discussion for now. Lyra's had quite enough revelations for one day, and Cade, you're looking a bit..." He paused, his pale eyes flicking to Cade's face. "Stressed."

Cade caught his reflection in the window and swore silently. His eyes had shifted from their normal forest green to the gold of his wolf, and his hands were clenched into fists to hide the way his nails had begun to extend into claws.

"I should go," he said abruptly, heading for the kitchen door.

"Wait," Lyra called after him. "We're not done talking about this."

Cade paused in the doorway, not trusting himself to turn around. "Yes, we are. For now."

"Like hell we are. You can't just drop a magical destiny bomb on me and then walk away."

"I can and I am." Cade's voice came out as more growl than speech. "Stay away from the seal, Lyra. Whatever you do, don't touch it again until we figure out what we're dealing with."

"Or what?"

Cade turned then, knowing it was a mistake even as he did it.

Lyra was standing with her hands on her hips, copper curls escaping from her ponytail and amber eyes blazing with frustrated defiance.

She looked magnificent and dangerous and utterly unaware of the effect she was having on his rapidly fraying self-control.

"Or I'll have to stop you," he said quietly.

The threat hung between them like a live wire. Lyra's magic sparked visibly around her fingers, flaring in rhythm with her feelings, and Cade felt his wolf respond in kind. The air in the kitchen grew thick with supernatural tension.

"I'd like to see you try," Lyra said, her voice deadly calm.

Cade's control snapped.

For a heartbeat, he let his wolf surface completely—eyes blazing gold, power radiating from him in waves that made the windows rattle. Lyra took an involuntary step back, her magic flaring in response to the perceived threat.

Then Cade got himself back under control, shoving his wolf down with an effort that left him shaking.

"Stay away from it," he repeated, his voice carefully controlled. "I mean it."

He left before either of them could respond, the front door slamming shut behind him with enough force to rattle the entire inn.

In the kitchen, Nico sipped his coffee and watched Lyra stare at the empty doorway.

"Well," he said finally. "That went about as well as expected."

"Is he always that charming?" Lyra asked, her voice slightly breathless.

"Oh, my dear," Nico said with obvious amusement. "You haven't seen anything yet."