Chapter 163 The Day Before THE DAY
As Lyra, Ryker, and Darcy stepped across the shallow creek, the air changed almost instantly.
The cabin sat in the center of the basin, built of heavy, dark timbers that had moss growing in the cracks. All vegetation here was silver. All of it.
It looked ancient, like it had been waiting for them for a hundred years.
"This is it," Darcy said, lowering her rifle and wiping sweat from her scarred forehead. She looked around the shimmering perimeter. "The air here... it smells really clean. My wolf feels quiet for the first time since I was taken."
Ryker stepped toward the porch, his hand gripping Lyra’s carefully.
For a brief second, he didn't let go and he didn't flinch. He looked down at their joined hands, his thumb tracing the back of her knuckles.
"Rex was right. The silver in the soil is eating the frequency. We’re safe here."
"We need to set up," Darcy said, snapping back into scout mode. "I’ll handle the perimeter tent. You two take the cabin. We need to be ready. If my calculations from the town's lunar charts are right, the Blood Moon is tomorrow night. We have less than twenty-four hours to prepare the ritual site."
"What?” Lyra said, "I don't want you out there alone. You must have gone through a lot in that town. You need rest.”
Darcy sighed deeply. "You both need time alone for the mating. Unless you're planning on a threesome.”
"Darcy!” Lyra’s eyes widened but Darcy just shrugged.
Ryker nodded. "Go. If you see anything, anything at all, howl. Don't try to be a hero alone."
Darcy gave a grim nod and disappeared into the silver tall grass to set up her scout tent.
Ryker led Lyra inside the cabin.
It was small and smelled of cedar and dried lavender. A stone fireplace dominated one wall, and a large, fur-covered bed sat in the corner but it was dusty and as old as the building itself.
“Who lived here?" She asked, coughing.
Ryker shrugged, “anyone who needed to perform a moon ritual. I'm guessing that hasn't happened in a long time."
Lyra nodded. “Apparently."
Ryker immediately went to the hearth, kneeling to pile old logs and kindling. His movements were stiff, his back still webbed with the cuts from the Chief’s lash.
Lyra watched him, her heart aching.
The adrenaline of the escape was fading, replaced by a raw, overwhelming need to be near him.
She walked up behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders.
Ryker stiffened for a second, then leaned back into her touch, letting out a long, shaky breath. "Lyra... don't. I'm covered in soot and blood. I probably smell like that warehouse."
"I don't care," Lyra whispered. She leaned down, pressing her face against the back of his neck, breathing him in. "I don't care about the warehouse. I just want to touch you without feeling like I'm killing someone."
She moved her hands down his chest, trying to turn him around.
She wanted to feel his skin against hers, to make up for every second of the forced distance. She started to pull at the hem of his torn shirt, her eyes dark with emotion. "Ryker..."
Ryker caught her wrists. He didn't push her away, but his grip was firm.
He looked up at her, his eyes soft but full of a deep, protective exhaustion. "Lyra, stop. Look at you. You’re limping, your head is bruised, and you’re shaking from the cold. You’ve been running for two days straight."
"I'm fine," she argued, her voice cracking. "I just need you."
"I need you too," Ryker said, standing up and pulling her into a gentle hug. He tucked her head under his chin, his large hands stroking her hair. "But you’re exhausted. Your body needs to heal before the ritual tomorrow. The Blood Moon ritual takes everything out of a hybrid. If you’re weak, the transition could hurt you."
"I'm not weak when I'm with you," she muttered into his chest.
"I know," Ryker said, kissing the top of her head. "But tonight, we rest. I’m going to make a fire, and you’re going to sleep. That’s an order from your Alpha."
Lyra sighed, leaning her full weight against him.
The "order" was a joke, but she knew he was right. Her leg was throbbing, and her head felt like it was filled with cotton. "You’re a brooding, stubborn man, Ryker."
"And you're a stubborn, beautiful woman," he countered.
He led her to the bed, pulling back the heavy dusty furs and spreading his shirt over it as best as he could.
He helped her sit down and began to gently unlace her boots.
His movements were so tender it made Lyra want to cry. He treated her like something fragile, something precious that he had almost lost twice in one week.
"What if it doesn't work?" Lyra asked quietly as he wrapped his arms around her. "What if the Blood Moon isn't enough to break what the King did?"
Ryker stopped, his hand resting on her breasts. "Then we stay here. We live in this valley forever. I’ll build you a house, and I’ll hunt in these mountains, and we’ll never look back at the IronFangs again. I won't lose you to him, Lyra. Not again."
A knock came at the door, and Darcy stepped in.
She had finished the tent and looked like she had washed the soot from her face. "Perimeter is secure. The valley is empty, Alpha Ryker. No tracks, no scents. It’s like the world stopped at the creek."
"Good," Ryker said. "Get some sleep, Darcy. Tomorrow is going to be the longest day of our lives."
"I’ve lived through eight years of hell," Darcy said, looking at the two of them with a small, knowing smile. "I can handle one long day. The moon is already shifting color. It’ll be red by tomorrow night. Just like Rex said.”
"Well, let's hope it works.”
"If hope is all we have, then it's enough,” Darcy said, "trust me.”
Then she closed the door, leaving them in the quiet warmth of the fire.
Lyra watched the flames dancing on the ceiling.
She felt Ryker’s thumb tracing circles on her palm. It was the simplest thing, just holding hands, but it felt like a miracle.
"Ryker?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you for finding me in the woods," she whispered. "And for staying in that warehouse."
Ryker squeezed her hand. "There is nowhere else I would have been. Now sleep, Lyra."
Lyra closed her eyes, the sound of the crackling fire and Ryker's steady breathing finally lulling her into a deep, dreamless sleep.
For the first time in weeks, she dreamed of silver grass and a red moon.