The rain had started just before dawn, thin needles of silver slicing through the canopy of trees as Lyra pressed forward. Her boots were soaked, her cloak heavy with water, but she didn't slow down. Her breath misted in front of her as the air turned colder with every step away from the Obsidian Fang compound. The war room confrontation was still burned into her memory—Kade's shock, Celine's venom, and the explosive tension between them that had nearly swallowed her whole.
Now, she needed answers. And space to think.
Ronan had insisted they fall back, blend into the deeper woods until the pack's security relaxed. Lyra agreed, but her mind was a storm. Her fingers still tingled with the echo of her magic. Kade had looked at her like she was a stranger. A threat. She didn't know what that did to her more—the betrayal or the part of her that still ached when she saw him.
"Keep moving," Ronan said quietly beside her, his voice low but firm. "We need to be at the riverbend before sunrise."
Lyra nodded, brushing wet hair from her face. Her wolf prowled just beneath her skin, agitated and on edge. Not because of Celine, not because of the danger. Because of him.
Kade.
The forest opened into a hollow where the river carved a jagged path through ancient stones. Mist clung to the water, rising like breath from a sleeping beast. Here, it was quiet—too quiet. Ronan paused, scenting the air.
"We're not alone," he murmured.
Lyra felt it, too. A presence. Faint but watching.
Before they could react, a figure emerged from the trees—hooded, wrapped in the grey and violet of the Elder Circles. A woman. She raised her hand slowly in peace.
"We've been expecting you, Lyra Blackthorn."
Lyra stiffened. "Who are you?"
"A Seer of the Forgotten Moon. I carry the answers you seek."
Ronan's hand hovered over his blade. "Why now?"
The Seer's pale eyes fixed on Lyra. "Because your power is awakening. The blood you carry is not just wolf—it is older, bound to prophecy. You are the key to the next era."
Lyra's throat dried. "What prophecy?"
The Seer stepped forward, pulling a scroll from her cloak. The parchment shimmered with runes Lyra had never seen. "The curse of the Forsaken Moon. A lineage sealed in shadow. A mate bond broken by fate and pride. The one who survives the breaking shall either save us... or destroy us."
The words struck like thunder.
Lyra's head spun. "What does that mean?"
The Seer looked at her with something like sadness. "It means you were never meant to be just his Luna. You were meant to decide the future of all wolves."
Ronan cursed softly.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?" Lyra whispered.
"Because your mother died before she could," the Seer replied. "And your father disappeared into madness after the rejection."
Lyra staggered back. "What?"
The Seer looked to the east. "There is more. But not here. Come with me."
Ronan stepped in front of Lyra. "We don't follow strangers into the mist."
"I understand," the Seer said gently. "But you'll need allies. And time is no longer your friend."
She turned and disappeared into the trees.
Lyra exhaled slowly, her hands clenched. "We follow her."
Ronan gave her a long look. "Are you sure?"
"No," Lyra admitted. "But if I'm going to survive this… I need to know who I really am."
They trailed the Seer through the thicket, climbing narrow paths until they reached an ancient ruin half-swallowed by vines. Moonstones glowed faintly along the steps. Inside, a circular chamber pulsed with dormant magic.
"This was once the Hall of Moonkind," the Seer explained. "Where the first wolves learned to walk between realms."
Lyra shivered. "Why bring me here?"
The Seer placed the scroll in the center of the chamber. "Because here, your blood will speak."
The runes on the scroll flared. A circle of light erupted beneath Lyra's feet, threads of silver wrapping around her ankles, her wrists, her throat. She gasped—but it wasn't pain. It was recognition.
Visions flooded her mind—her mother's face, soft and fierce. Her father, broken and weeping. The night of her rejection. The scream of the Moon Goddess. Kade's voice, whispering her name with regret.
And then—fire. Chaos. War.
She dropped to her knees.
Ronan caught her as she collapsed, eyes wide. "What did you see?"
Lyra's voice shook. "A future I have to stop."
The Seer knelt beside her. "Then you must choose your next steps carefully. The prophecy has many paths. Not all end in peace."
Lyra stood slowly. "Then tell me what I have to do."
The Seer smiled faintly. "You must return to the Obsidian Fang Pack. But not as their lost Luna. As something new. Something stronger."
Lyra stared down at her hands, the silver light fading but the magic still thrumming.
"I will," she said. "I'm done running."
Ronan placed a hand on her shoulder. "Then let's show them who you really are."