Page 26

PROLOGUE

L yra

Love makes you stupid. Not the sweet, tender kind they sing about in temple hymns—I mean the raw, reckless kind that burns through your veins and turns your brain to fucking ash. The kind that has me stalking through Moonhaven at midnight, risking everything for a man who’s my family’s enemy.

The ancient stones of our settlement seem to judge me like accusing eyes as I slip between them, already hearing my father’s angry words as if he’s caught me…

Foolish girl. Priestess in training. Alpha’s daughter. Only eighteen years old. Sneaking out for an Umbra wolf—our enemy!

I press my back against the cool temple wall, breath caught in my throat as a guard passes so close, I could reach out and touch him. My heart hammers wildly—not from the fear of being caught, but from the excitement that still burns inside me to see him again.

The guard doesn’t see me as he does his rounds.

When he rounds the corner, I dart across the central clearing, my white-blonde hair tucked in my hood. I keep to the shadows cast by the massive fire pit that burns day and night. The flames dance high tonight, almost as if they’re trying to reach Elios, the veiled moon that hangs half-shrouded in wispy clouds. Her sister, Umbra, is nowhere to be seen—hiding behind the mountains as she often does this time of year.

Tonight marks three months since I first started seeing him. Of stealing away on moonless nights to rendezvous at our meeting spot.

Of course, if my father finds out, he might very well murder me… and yet, I go against him to see Theron another night. My stomach flutters, the anticipation driving me to move quicker.

I reach the edge of our territory, slipping through the gap in the lofty pines that mark our boundary. The river comes next—Silverthread, we call it—running between our territories. Eclipsia, my home, where the Elios wolves live, and the enemy’s pack, Tenebris, where the Umbra wolves reside.

I pause at the bank, staring at the rippling water, my wolf vision cutting through the dark to reveal my reflection. The girl who looks back at me is almost a stranger—blonde-white hair falling loose from within my hood, framing a face marked with delicate silver lines across my brow, the ceremonial tattoos of a moon priestess in training. Pale lavender eyes remind me of my mother’s. My gut twists at the thought of what my parents would do if they discovered what I’m about to do. What I have been doing.

But I won’t panic now. He’ll be waiting like he always does.

Ahead is a natural stone alcove where the water has carved away the bank over centuries, covered in shadows. The place where we kissed the second time we met.

I hurry over there, hopping over the stones to cross the shallow river, but he isn’t there.

I pause, confused. In three months of secret catchups, Theron has never failed to be here first, waiting with that crooked smile that makes my heart skip. I sink down onto a smooth river stone, worry threading through my chest.

The day we met, his hunting arrow had whistled past my ear, embedding itself in the oak behind me as I’d been foraging for moonberries. He’d rushed to me, horrified at almost harming me, his golden irises wide with concern. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen. Despite everything I’d been taught about the Umbra wolves, I’d found myself drowning in those eyes. And with that, our first kiss comes to mind…

My heart threatens to burst from my chest as I slip through the forest, each twig snap making me freeze at the thought of being caught. I’ve never done anything like this—sneaking out of my house past curfew. The punishment for disobedience would be severe, but something stronger than fear pulls me forward.

I reach the alcove by the shallow river. The small cave-like space is shrouded in shadows, private and hidden from prying eyes. Perfect for a meeting that should never happen.

Will he even come? The thought makes my stomach lurch. Perhaps I misunderstood him when we parted ways after our chance meeting when he almost speared me with his arrow. Perhaps this is all a cruel joke, and he never intended to meet me again.

Then I hear it—the soft, deliberate crunch of leaves. A tall figure emerges from the darkness, and my breath catches. Theron. Moonlight glints against his sharp features, the angles of his face softened by the gentle curve of his lips as they spread into a smile.

“You came,” he says, his deep voice sending a shiver down my arms.

“I shouldn’t have,” I answer, but I take a step toward him, anyway.

Something electric passes between us. One moment, I’m standing three feet away, the next, I’m in his arms, drawn to him like a tide to shore. His scent envelops me—pine, amber, and wildness.

His hand reaches up to cup my brow, thumb tracing the silver lines of my tattoo. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he confesses, his golden gaze searching mine. “Not for a single moment.”

“This is madness,” I whisper, even as I lean into his touch. “An Elios and an Umbra...”

“Do you feel it, too?” he asks, his voice rough with emotion. “The energy between us?”

Before I can answer, his lips find mine. The world tilts on its axis. His kiss is gentle at first, questioning, but when I respond—rising on my toes to press closer—it transforms into something hungry, desperate. My fingers tangle in his dark hair, anchoring myself as my knees go weak. Heat blooms everywhere on my body, spreading like an inferno through my veins.

When he finally pulls back, his breath comes in quick gasps that match my own.

“I’ve been counting the hours until I can see you again,” he murmurs against my lips.

My heart hammers wildly. “You know this is wrong,” I say, though I make no move to step away.

A dangerous smile curves his mouth, sending another thrill through me. “I know,” he admits, his hand sliding to the nape of my neck. “But it’s not going to stop me. Not when you taste like everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“My family would disown me if they knew I was here with you,” I whisper, even as my fingers trace the strong line of his jaw.

“And mine would challenge me to combat for dishonoring our bloodline,” he counters, pressing a kiss to my palm. “Yet here I stand, unable to stay away.”

“What are we doing, Theron?” I ask, vulnerability threading through my voice.

He pulls me even closer, his forehead resting against mine. “Something brave,” he whispers. “Something true.” Then his lips find mine again, and I’m lost in the perfect rightness of his embrace, knowing that after tonight, nothing will ever be the same.

“Five minutes,” I tell myself, trying to calm the rapid beating of my heart. I’ll give him five minutes, then I’ll go looking.

Five minutes stretch into ten. Ten into thirty. Thirty into an hour. My worry deepens with each passing moment.

I pick up a stone and roll it between my palms, feeling its smooth contours.

Where are you, Theron?

His words from our last meeting echo in my mind.

Lyra, if I’m ever not here waiting for you, there’s only one reason—something’s happened to me. I would crawl through fire before I’d miss a chance to see you.

Something coils tight in my chest—not doubt, but fear. A cold certainty that something is wrong. Not with us, but with him.

The Umbra wolves know only possession, not love. They take. They consume. They destroy. My mother’s warnings ring in my ears.

But Theron is different. The way he looks at me when we’re alone, as though I’m something precious. The gentleness in his touch. The stories he tells me about his family, his dreams of uniting our packs.

Gods, I know this is wrong. He’s my enemy by birth, the son of our pack’s greatest adversary, yet I’m utterly captivated by him. Every logical part of me knows I should walk away, return to my pack, and forget these forbidden meetings, but my heart knows better.

Worry gnaws at me as I rise to my feet. What if he’s been hurt? What if his father discovered our meetings?

“I have to find him,” I mutter, straightening my shoulders with determination. Something’s happened, and he needs me. I know it.

I strip quickly, folding my hood and clothes, then tucking them beneath a hollow log. The night air raises goosebumps along my bare skin. I’ve got just enough stupidity left in me for one more reckless act.

I close my eyes, surrendering to the change that always lurks beneath my skin, waiting. The shift crashes through me like lightning striking a tree. Bones crack and reform, muscles stretch and reshape, skin prickles as fur erupts across my body. The pain burns and lasts only seconds.

When I open my eyes again, the world has transformed. Colors are sharp, and scents explode into vivid detail. The mineral tang of river water, the sweet decay of fallen leaves, the lingering musk of a deer—all of it painting a picture more detailed than sight ever could.

My wolf form is smaller than most—lithe and quick rather than powerful. Fur, the color of the silvery moonlight with subtle blue undertones, covers my body.

Then I run, staying low to the ground, paws barely making a sound on the carpet of fallen needles. I know the way to Theron’s village. He showed me once, though we never ventured close enough to risk detection. It’s a long journey, at least five miles through treacherous territory, but my wolf form eats the distance hungrily.

The forest grows darker the deeper I penetrate into Tenebris territory. The trees press closer, their twisted trunks forming grotesque shapes in the dim light. Strange sounds echo through the darkness—the scrape of claws on bark, the rustle of wings too large to belong to any normal bird, the occasional distant howl that makes my fur stand on end.

My heart thunders into my ribcage.

In these woods dwell creatures that my pack speaks of only in whispers—shadow beasts, spirits bound to ancient trees—but I don’t fear them tonight. Something worse consumes me—the gnawing certainty that Theron is hurt, and I’m too late.

A twig snaps somewhere to my right, and I freeze, ears swiveling toward the sound.

I sniff the air, not picking up new scents.

Nothing emerges from the shadows. After a tense moment, I continue, moving faster now. The need to see him, to know he’s safe, has become an obsession that drowns out my better judgment.

After an hour of running, I catch the first scent of woodsmoke, roasted meat, and the mingled scents of many wolves living in close proximity. I slow my pace, careful now to stay downwind as I approach the outskirts of the village.

Their village is nothing like our scattered stone dwellings. The Umbra wolves build upward—multi-level structures of dark wood and stone that rise from the forest floor. Torches line the main paths, casting flickering shadows against walls decorated with trophies and symbols of the pack’s victories. Skulls hang from posts at regular intervals. A warning to enemies. A warning to me.

The Umbra pack’s idea of home looks like my pack’s idea of a nightmare.

I creep closer, staying within the tree line, my white fur a liability in this darkness. Wolves gathered in clusters, the sound of laughter and conversation carrying to where I hide.

And then I see him.

Theron stands near the largest structure—his father’s home. He’s dressed formally in black leather armor accented with silver, his hair tied back to reveal the sharp angles of his face. Even from a distance, he steals my breath. The moonlight illuminates the strong curve of his jaw, the powerful breadth of his shoulders, and the scar on his collarbone.

My heart lurches painfully in my chest. He’s alive. He’s unharmed. He’s... not alone.

A woman stands beside him, tall and sleek, with hair the color of midnight that falls in a glossy curtain to her waist. Her dress—blood red and clinging to every perfect curve—marks her as high-ranking. One delicate hand rests on Theron’s arm. When she laughs at something he says, her entire face transforms, revealing stunning beauty.

My insides knot into a sickening twist. I want to look away, but I can’t. It’s like watching my own heart being carved from my chest.

The Pack Alpha of the Umbre Wolves, Theron’s father, Magnus Shadowmane, is an imposing figure and impossible to mistake. Even from here, I spot the crimson gleam of his gaze as he watches his son with the woman. He says something that makes the woman smile wider, her hand tightening possessively on Theron’s arm.

And Theron—my Theron, who whispered promises against my skin and swore that nothing would keep us apart—doesn’t pull away. His expression remains neutral, unreadable at this distance, but he makes no move to reject her touch or her closeness.

The ground lurches beneath me. I’ve been a fool. A complete, utter fool.

As I watch, frozen in place, the woman leans closer, pressing her lips to Theron’s cheek. She lingers there, whispering something in his ear that makes his jaw tighten. Magnus places a heavy hand on his son’s shoulder, his smile a predatory slash across his face.

A betrothal. It has to be. The formal clothes, his father’s presence, the public display—Theron is to be mated to this woman. Has it already happened? Has he already made her his while I waited by the river like a lovesick idiot?

Everything inside me shatters. Not just cracks but implodes, leaving a jagged hole where my heart should be. I can almost hear the pieces hitting the ground.

This is why he didn’t come. This is why he broke his promise. He’s being mated to another.

Bile rises in my throat, bitter and burning.

I was never going to be enough. An Elios wolf, daughter of his father’s enemy—what future could we have had? But oh, how I believed him when he whispered that we could change things, that together we could heal the rift between our packs.

What a fucking joke.

A soft whimper escapes me before I can stop it. Too quiet for the celebrating wolves to hear but enough to release the first crack in the dam of my control. The pain is right behind my ribs, taking my breath and blurring my vision.

I loved him. Goddess help me, I still love him, even as I watch him with her.

A gust of wind shifts direction, carrying my scent to the village. Theron stiffens suddenly, his head turning toward the trees where I hide. For one terrible moment, our gazes meet across the distance—his widening with recognition and shock.

I don’t wait to see more. I turn and run, pushing my body harder than I ever have before. Branches whip against my face, stones cut into my paws, but I barely feel the pain. It’s nothing compared to the agony tearing through my chest, the knowledge that every sweet word, every tender touch, every promise was a lie.

Or worse—that they were true, and still not enough to make him choose me.

Behind me, I hear a commotion. Shouts. The crashing of someone large moving through the underbrush. I push harder, fear mixing with my heartbreak that sets my blood on fire.

I dart between trees, changing direction frequently, using every trick I learned growing up in forests just like these. Glancing back, I spot a shadow rushing amid the woods like a demon, coming after me.

Heart thumping against my ribcage, I sprint faster.

The river appears ahead, its silver surface now a barrier I desperately need to cross. Just a few more yards...

Something heavy crashes into me from behind, sending me tumbling across the forest floor. Pain explodes in my side as I slam into a tree trunk, the impact forcing a yelp past my lips.

My attacker looms over me—a massive black wolf. Not Theron, but one of his pack. A guard, by the look of him, his muzzle scarred from numerous fights.

I try to scramble away, snapping my teeth at him, but he pins me with a massive paw, claws digging into my shoulder. Blood wells, hot and sticky, matting my fur. I snap at him, teeth catching only air as he jerks back.

His jaws open wide, revealing teeth designed to rend flesh from bone. At that moment, I know I’m going to die. Here, in enemy territory, with no one knowing where I am or why I came. They’ll find my body in the river, if they find it at all, and never know that I died for love. Then a war between the packs will ensue.

A blur of black crashes into my attacker, tearing him away from me with force. The guard yelps in surprise as he’s thrown against a tree, his massive body crumpling to the ground.

Theron stands between us, his wolf form even more impressive than I remembered. He’s all sleek muscle and deadly grace, his midnight fur shimmering with subtle silver highlights in the moonlight.

In seconds, he transforms, standing tall, nude, and he’s frowning, fury burning in his eyes.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Varus?” he snarls at the guard still in wolf form.

Varus struggles to his feet, blood trickling from a cut above his eye.

“I’ll handle this enemy.” Theron moves closer, teeth bared in a snarl that raises the hair on the back of my neck. “You’ll say it was nothing but a deer, or I’ll finish you. Understood?”

Enemy . The word cuts deeper than any physical wound. That’s all I am to him now. Perhaps all I ever was.

Varus glances between us, then gives a nod.

“Go back to the village. That’s an order.”

For a moment, I think Varus will refuse. His muscles bunch as if preparing to attack. Then, with a final glare in my direction, he turns and limps away, disappearing into the darkness of the forest.

The moment he’s gone, Theron turns to me, his expression shifting from rage to something more complex. “Lyra, what the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed.”

I scramble onto all four paws, ignoring the pain that lances through my shoulder. Blood drips from the wounds, but they’re not deep enough to be life-threatening. Physical pain is the least of my concerns right now.

Without responding, I dash toward the river, where my clothes still lie hidden beneath the hollow log. I need to shift back, needing to get home and fast, and not leave my clothes behind as evidence. I grit my teeth against the agony as bones reshape and fur recedes. My hands shake as I drag my clothes and robe on, pulling them on with desperate, jerky movements.

Behind me, the sounds of Theron’s footsteps approach. I don’t turn around. I can’t bear to see him, to look into the face that’s haunted my dreams for months.

“Lyra,” he says softly. “Look at me. Please.”

“Why?” I ask, the word scraping my throat raw. “So, you can lie to my face?”

I turn slowly, the movement sending fresh pain through my injured shoulder. Blood seeps through the fabric of my robe. Theron stands a few feet away, shadows concealing most of him, except his face… and those hypnotic, pale gray eyes, almost silver.

“Why did you cross the river?” he asks, sounding strained. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

A bitter laugh escapes me. “We were supposed to meet here. Did you forget?” My voice cracks on the last word. “But you never came.”

“I couldn’t?—”

“I saw you,” I cut him off, the words like acid on my tongue. “With her. With your father. Some kind of betrothal celebration, wasn’t it?”

His face pales, the scar on his collarbone standing out stark against his skin. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”

“You think?” I spit, tears burning behind my eyes. “Because I’m your enemy, right? You just said it yourself.”

He reaches out for me, but I step back.

“Lyra, it’s not what you think. I’m not?—”

“Fuck you.” The tears spill over now, hot tracks down my cold cheeks. I hate that he sees them, hate that I can’t stop them. “What am I to you, Theron? Just some fun on the side? A novelty? The forbidden Elios bitch you could play with until it was time to settle down with a proper Umbra wolf?”

He flinches as if struck. “It was never like that. You know it wasn’t.”

“I don’t know anything anymore.” My response breaks, betraying the depth of my pain. “Except that I was stupid enough to believe you when you said you loved me.”

“I do love you.” Theron steps forward, one hand reaching for mine again. “Everything I said was true.”

“Don’t.” I jerk away from his touch as if it burns, my back hitting a tree. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t be with her.”

“It’s complicated, Lyra. My father?—”

“I don’t care!” Anger tears past my lips in a near-scream. “I don’t care about your father or your pack politics or whatever excuses you’ve crafted. You made a choice, Theron… and it wasn’t me.”

I’m trembling now, my entire body shaking with the force of my emotions. My chest feels like it’s caving in, tight and suffocating, as if my ribs might crack beneath the pressure. My breath comes in shallow gasps, each one sharp and ragged, as though I’m fighting to keep myself from falling apart completely.

It’s not alright. None of this is alright.

A hot tear slips down my cheek, and I swipe it away roughly, as if denying it will somehow keep the rest from falling. My throat tightens, a painful knot forming as I try to choke back the sob threatening to break free. My breath stutters, a sharp, shaky inhale that catches in my chest.

I sniff hard, forcing it down. Don’t cry. Not now. Not in front of him.

But the tears keep coming, blurring my vision until I can barely make out his face. My fingers curl into fists, nails biting into my palms, but it does nothing to stop the ache clawing inside me—this unbearable hollow feeling that won’t leave. My heart twists, hammering so hard it feels like it might tear itself apart.

I can’t take this.

“I wish I’d never crossed paths with you,” I whisper, voice breaking on a sob I can’t swallow down this time. “Never believed a single word you said.”

The words barely scratch the surface of the storm inside me. Because the truth is, I had believed him—every promise, every look, every touch—and now those memories felt like knives carving me hollow.

Another sob slips out, and I press my hand to my mouth, trying to smother the sound. My shoulders shake, and I wrap my arms around myself, as if holding my own pieces together might stop me from shattering completely.

“Lyra, please.” Theron’s face contorts with anguish, his eyes glistening in the moonlight. “Let me explain. There are things happening that you don’t understand. She means nothing. It’s only an agreement I have no say in.”

“I understand enough.” I push away from the tree, swaying as dizziness washes over me. “This is over. Whatever was between us… it’s done. We never should have thought we could be anything.”

He moves toward me again as I stumble.

“You’re hurt. Let me help you.”

“Don’t touch me!” I snap and take a shuddering breath, trying to steady myself. “Just... don’t. There was nothing real between us, was there? It was all just pretty lies that meant nothing in the light of day.”

“That’s not true,” he insists. “What we had—what we have—it’s the only real thing in my life.”

For a moment, just a heartbeat, I almost believe him. The pain on his face mirrors my own, his hands trembling at his sides as if physically restraining himself from reaching for me again.

Then I remember the woman in red, her hand on his arm, her lips against his cheek. I remember his father’s approving smile. I remember the years of stories about Umbra wolves and their cruelty, their manipulation, their lies.

“Go back to your mate,” I say, the words like ashes in my mouth. “Return to your father and your pack and your perfect Umbra life. Forget about the Elios wolf who was foolish enough to love you.”

I turn away, unable to look at him any longer. Each step toward the river feels like walking through quicksand.

“Lyra,” he calls after me, desperation edging his voice. “This isn’t over. I’ll find a way?—”

“It is over,” I interrupt, not turning back.

I move across the river over the stones. Behind me, there’s nothing but silence. When I reach the middle of the current and finally look back, the bank is empty. Theron is gone, melted back into the shadows of Tenebris like he was never there at all.

Something inside me calcifies then—my heart turning from broken glass to stone. A sob tears in my chest. Another follows, and another, until I can barely stay upright against the current and the crushing weight of my grief.

Somehow, I make it across. Somehow, I drag myself back through the forest to my village. My legs ache, my body is sluggish and cold, but I keep moving—one foot in front of the other—barely aware of the tears still streaking down my face. The wind stings my damp cheeks, but I don’t bother wiping them away. I just need to get home.

The village’s outer torches flicker through the trees, and relief rushes through me, but before I can step into the clearing, a shadow moves.

“Lyra?”

The voice is familiar—one of my father’s guards, Kian. He steps out from behind a tree, his hand already resting on the hilt of his hip. His face hardens when he sees me stumbling forward.

“What are you doing out here?” His tone is sharp, but then his eyes narrow, and he steps closer. His gaze drops to my blood-smeared clothes, the scrapes on my hands, the way my breath keeps hitching.

“Shit… are you hurt? What happened?”

I shake my head, but my throat’s too tight to answer.

“I’ll get you home,” he says quickly, his voice softer now. He shrugs off his cloak and drapes it over my shoulders before guiding me forward. His pace is steady but firm, as though he knows I might collapse if he lets go.

“You know your father’s gonna have questions,” he mutters, half to himself. “Questions and a hell of a temper.”

I barely hear him. My head hangs low, tears still falling silently as I stumble beside him. Each step feels heavier, the weight of everything pressing down until I’m not sure I’ll be able to breathe when I walk.

Kian doesn’t say anything else. He just keeps his hand on my arm, steady and sure, walking me home through the dark.

I keep silent, knowing no wolves in my pack will ever understand what I’ve done or why.

When I finally reach my room, I bar the door and collapse onto my bed. The pain in my shoulder has dulled to a persistent throb, already beginning to heal with my wolf metabolism. The wounds in my heart will take longer—perhaps a lifetime.

But I make myself a promise. No more tears. No more dreams of a future that can never exist.

The next time I see Theron Shadowmane, it won’t be as a lover.

It will be as an enemy.

And I will make him regret the day he ever spoke my name.