Chapter 11 TEN
\[NYRA'S POV\]
The voice booms through my skull, vibrating down my spine like a sacred bell struck by lightning.
I can’t think.
I can’t breathe.
I seriously can’t stop it.
Why now? Why me?
I’ve been through nightmares, dangerous packs, even almost dying before…And yet nothing, nothing, has felt like this.
My spine arches with a violent crack, and a coil of molten heat snaps through my ribs, forcing my wolf forward with a ferocity that terrifies me.
Lyric isn’t just trying to take control…She’s rising.
And I can feel something else rising with her.
Something ancient, something that’s been sleeping inside me my entire life.
Something that has finally opened its eyes.
“The awakening of the Lunar Heir…”
The voice echoes again—no gender, no direction, just pure celestial command.
Lunar Heir…?
I’m just Nyra. I’m not supposed to be anything more than a rogue orphaned wolf trying to survive. I don’t even know what I’m capable of. Melyn and I had planned to escape our pack and go rogue but this wasn't in our agenda. I didn't think I'd be fighting for my life in an artic one day.
“Stay strong, baby. I believe in you," the all too familiar voice rings in my head. I don't need to be told twice who has it. Only Riven speaks to me with such calmness.
I try to be calm, to let the shifting happen smoothly, but that alone is proving to be an uphill task.
My fur-covered hands slam against the wooden floor as they morph completely; white fur bursting from skin, claws forming where my nails were seconds ago. I gasp, half-shifting, half-drowning in the power that threatens to tear me apart.
“Nyra!” Lucien’s voice is distant, muffled, like he’s shouting through water. “Fight it…don’t give in! You’re not ready!”
Ready?
I doubt anyone alive—or dead—is ready for this.
I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for this.
Another BANG rattles the attic door, harder than before. The hinges bend, and the wood splinters.
The creature is seconds away from breaking through, and I’m seconds away from losing control.
“No, Nyra!” Lucien screams, trying to get close to me. But the power radiating from me keeps him away. “If you shift, if your powers awaken, he'll sense you.”
He’ll sense me?
I can barely hold onto myself, let alone worry about him. The thought makes my stomach twist. But it’s not about me, is it?
It’s never just about me.
Lyric’s voice booms through me:
“LET. ME. OUT.”
I try to speak but only a guttural growl rips from my throat. I’m halfway shifted—fur and skin, wolf and girl—caught in a limbo that feels like hell.
A glowing sigil ignites on the floor beneath me. Silver lines, swirling in a pattern I’ve never seen before, flashing brighter with every pulse of my heart.
What the hell is happening?
I don’t understand. I can’t understand.
Why is this power inside me, screaming to get out, like it’s been waiting for this exact moment for centuries?
Why does it feel like every part of me wants to die and be reborn at the same time?
Lucien scrambles up from the shattered shelf, glass crunching under his boots.
His eyes widen—not in fear, but recognition.
“No…not now. Not here.” His voice trembles. Lucien’s voice actually trembles. “The Lunar Sigil, Nyra, you’re activating it!”
Lunar Sigil?
I’ve been trying to process one prophecy, and now there’s a sigil, too? What else am I supposed to survive?
Can someone just give me a break?
My body convulses, my wolf snarling inside me like a tempest. Pain beyond understanding twists my insides.
Cracks split along the attic door.
The creature screeches again…this time with excitement.
It can feel it now.
My power, my awakening. And It wants me.
A final blow sends the door flying off its hinges. Dust and shards of wood explode inward.
And the creature…its hollow eyes, its skeletal face stretched too tight over death…crawls into the room on elongated limbs.
Lucien reacts instantly.
A blast of icy magic fires from his palms, striking the creature’s chest and slamming it against the far wall. Frost spreads across its skin, but the creature only hisses, unfazed.
It’s stronger than it looks.
Much stronger.
“Stay away from her!” Lucien barks, throwing another surge of elemental force—but his magic flickers, weakened by the shockwave I blasted moments ago.
I’m running out of time. I can’t hold it anymore. If I don’t do something, we’re all dead.
The sigil beneath me pulses faster—silver to white, white to blinding gold.
Lyric roars inside me, pushing, clawing, tearing through the last threads of my restraint.
“I can’t…” I rasp, voice mangled by the shift. “I can’t hold…”
Lucien turns to me, desperation flashing across his face. “Nyra, listen to me. If you shift now, you’ll awaken the full Heir power. You won’t be able to stop it from controlling you. Not without guidance. Not without fully accepting the bond.”
The bond?
All four of them. But three of them are downstairs. Fighting for their lives.
And I’m here, losing mine.
Besides, they don’t even look like they want to be mated with me. Especially the man in the room with me. I can’t just give in.
“Come on, Nyra!” Lyric urges, but I refuse. I refuse to give in to a power that will likely destroy me if not managed properly.
Another pulse of power bursts from my core, crackling through the air like white lightning. The creature shudders, sensing the rising force—and starts crawling toward me instead of Lucien.
Its mouth splits open, stretching too far, revealing rows of jagged, blackened teeth.
It’s coming for me.
“Lucien!” I choke out. Lyric pushes further, but for some reason, I can’t shift completely.
I have to survive. I have to control this. I won’t let it kill anyone. I won’t…
Lucien summons a dagger from thin air, crystalline and glowing. He launches himself forward, aiming for the creature’s throat—but he’s too slow.
The creature pounces at me.
I don’t think, Lyric doesn’t think either.
We act.
My body snaps the rest of the way into the shift, bones rearranging with brutal speed, fur exploding across my skin in a torrent of silver-white flame. Whatever restraint I had snapped like dried fig.
The last thing I hear before darkness swallows me whole is Lucien shouting:
“NYRA…DON’T LET IT TAKE YOU!”