Chapter 5 Trial 1
~Lyra's POV~
Having been confined to Dorhaven all my life, I had never imagined that Ironfang pack would be as vast and imposing as it was. Its territory stretched endlessly, guarded by towering walls and warriors whose mere presence commanded fear. Yet my mind was in no state to admire its size or its beauty.
I had stopped crying long before we arrived because I knew that my tears would mean nothing to these beasts. I knew our history, the centuries of bloodshed and resentment between werewolves and witches.
Once, both species had lived in a fragile alliance until a misunderstanding turned to hatred. Since then, witches and seers had been hunted, slaughtered, or forced to live in hiding. Even now, most of my kind spent their lives in shadows, whispering spells behind closed doors, terrified of being found.
I was a hybrid, but that truth changed nothing. My witch blood was dominant, and my wolf side was nothing more than a faint whisper, a fragment I could barely feel. It meant I was as good as a witch in their eyes, a threat, an abomination. These hate-filled beasts did not deserve my tears, so I forced them to stop falling even as my heart clenched in despair.
But something else tormented me more than fear. Alpha Kael Thorne, the devil everyone whispered about only in safe spaces.
He did not look like the devil I had imagined, and his touch certainly did not feel like one’s. When his skin met mine, something inexplicable and highly unsettling stirred within me. I could still feel the ghost of his grip, searing and warm, as though it had branded me.
When he told me that magic was useless on him, a small, reckless part of me wanted to prove him wrong. I whispered a simple spell under my breath, one that should have made the car rattle slightly, just enough to annoy him. But nothing happened. The air around him felt impenetrable, resistant to my power. He was immune. The realization made my stomach twist. Perhaps he truly was as powerful as they said.
After untying my hands, he shoved me into a cell and walked away without another word. My knees gave out, and I collapsed onto the cold stone floor. The dungeon was vast and eerily quiet, made up of two long, rectangular halls facing each other. Each cell was separated by thick metal bars, so that even in isolation you could still see into the next cell, or the far end of the structure.
For a brief moment, I thought I was alone. I thought I could finally release the storm inside me without eyes watching. But I was wrong.
Just as the first sob tore from my throat, the heavy gates at the entrance screeched open. Warriors entered, dragging a group of prisoners behind them. My breath caught in my chest. They were unlike anything I had ever seen.
The prisoners snarled and growled like feral beasts, their eyes glowing deep red, black veins crawling beneath their skin. The stench of dark magic clung to them like decay. Only two among them looked remotely normal, though their expressions were hollow and lifeless.
My heart raced. I tried to make myself invisible, curling into the corner of my cell, praying they would not notice me.
When the warriors left, the silence that followed was short-lived.
“Moon girl,” the creature in the very cell opposite mine rasped, his voice grating like sandpaper on stone. “It’s the moon girl.”
Every head turned toward me. I could feel their eyes piercing through the bars, and I could hear their ragged breathing.
“Moon girl,” they chanted together, their voices rising and falling in grotesque harmony. “We found the moon girl.”
One amongst the two normal men raised his hands high, his voice booming with conviction. “Our search has come to an end. Hail the Void Wolf!”
“Hail the Void Wolf! Hail the Void Wolf!” the others repeated, their screams echoing through the dungeon like the chants of the damned.
The noise grew so loud that guards stormed in, shouting for silence. The creatures quieted, but I could still hear their whispers, their prayers offered to the void wolf. They thanked him for guiding them to me.
What exactly did they mean by the moon girl, and who is the void wolf?
Hours passed in uneasy silence. My heart refused to calm, beating wildly against my ribs. Eventually, the warriors returned. They opened the cells one by one, dragging the prisoners out. None resisted. They followed like obedient slaves, their red eyes hollow. When the last of them was gone, I thought I might finally breathe again. But my relief was short-lived.
A warrior appeared before my cell, keys jingling in his hand. He unlocked the door and stepped inside.
“It’s time for trial. Come with me,” he said flatly.
“What trial?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“You will find out soon enough.”
I followed him through a series of cold, winding hallways. The sound of my bare feet against the stone echoed hauntingly. We were nearing an open courtyard when I heard a voice ring out, commanding and clear.
“We have nine rogues, two Shadow Pack leaders, and one witch.”
My stomach clenched.
The voice continued after a brief pause. “Having been stripped of reason, all rogues are automatically sentenced to death. May their ends be swift. Pass them on to Valemont.”
My throat went dry. I stumbled, barely catching myself before falling. My pulse roared in my ears.
When we stepped into the courtyard, the sight that met me stole the air from my lungs.
The rogues I had shared the dungeon with earlier were on their knees in a row, their heads bowed. A monstrous man stood before them, his hand covered in fur, his nails long and curved like blades. With one clean sweep, he sliced through each neck, sending heads rolling across the floor. Blood splattered everywhere, pooling in dark rivers that soaked the earth.
I froze. My entire body trembled as bile rose in my throat. The air stank of iron and death. Around us, pack members watched the executions as if they were watching a spectacle. No one flinched. No one looked away.
My eyes darted frantically, searching for something, anything to ground me. Then I saw him.
Kael Thorne sat on a raised platform, surrounded by other high-ranking wolves. Even from this distance, his presence demanded attention. When his eyes met mine, the world seemed to still. His face betrayed no emotion, but something in his gaze pierced straight through me.
“Bring the Shadow Pack leaders forward,” the coordinator’s voice boomed, pulling my attention back. I forced myself not to look at the blood pooling near my feet as the two normal looking men were dragged forward.
“For abducting the members of Iron Fang Pack,” the coordinator declared, “you deserve no hearing and no mercy. You are hereby sentenced to death by beheading. Let this be a warning to any who would follow your path. Hand them to Valemont.”
I could not look away this time. As the blade-like claws fell again and again, nausea overtook me. My stomach clenched violently, and I vomited what little I had eaten that morning. My body shook uncontrollably, and I collapsed to my knees.
“Bring the witch forward,” the coordinator announced.
My blood turned to ice. My eyes blurred with tears I refused to shed. Two warriors seized me, one on each side, and dragged me toward the open space where the condemned stood moments ago. My feet dragged against the stone, my heart pounding in my ears.
Was this how I was going to die? Would this be my end as well?