Chapter 165: Liguen

A month had passed since Lya’s speech. Life in Sacred Moon had settled into a peaceful rhythm, calmer than it had been in a long time. And yet, beneath the surface of that apparent tranquility, a subtle tension lingered—a fleeting unease that most chose to ignore.

Except for Lya.

The Luna had fully embraced her role, immersing herself in pack affairs with the same dedication as Caleb. However, her pregnancy required special precautions, and her frequent visits to the hospital for checkups made her a regular patient. It frustrated her at times, but Elora, on the other hand, seemed delighted to stay by her side, supporting her every step of the way. Caleb’s mother had always been a steady, guiding presence within the pack, but now, she practically smothered her daughter-in-law with attention, watching over her with an affection that went far beyond the respect due to a Queen.

Meanwhile, Caleb, Drake, and Malick had resumed their usual dynamic. The Beta, true to himself, filled the days with endless jokes and teasing—most of them at Caleb’s expense. And as always, Caleb never hesitated to put him in his place with amused authority. Malick, ever composed, continued to act as their silent mediator, observing their exchanges with the same unshakable patience that defined him. Alongside them, Darrien remained vigilant, ensuring the pack’s safety while also keeping a close watch over Elara, who was advancing in her magic training at an impressive pace.

As for the royal couple, they looked toward their future with confidence. Loric, at just three years old, took his role as a big brother very seriously. He often mimicked his father’s stance and expressions whenever he talked about the baby, even pressing his tiny hand against Lya’s still-flat stomach and proudly declaring that he would protect his little brother or sister. The entire pack found these moments endearing, strengthening the already deep bond within the royal family.

The pack itself showed unwavering support for its leaders—sometimes even to an excessive degree, particularly when it came to Lya’s safety. Every time she set foot outside the royal estate, she found herself discreetly (or not so discreetly) escorted by overprotective pack members. Nella, in particular, had taken her vigilance to a new level. More than just a subordinate, she was a loyal friend, and she let no one near Lya without ensuring they were no threat. And anyone who dared protest against this tight security quickly regretted it.

Everything finally seemed peaceful—a well-earned reprieve after all they had endured.

But that peace felt… unnatural.

Lya couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling of unease, that persistent sense of something looming just out of sight. Her dragon instincts whispered to her, warning that this tranquility wouldn’t last.

Danger was approaching. She could feel it.

And when a dragon senses danger… it means it has already begun.

Lya was buried in her paperwork, deeply focused on pack affairs, when a sudden chill crawled down her spine. Her breath hitched, and her pupils contracted.

Someone was coming. Not a wolf. Not a human. A dragon.

Her heartbeat quickened as she sharply lifted her head, reaching out with her senses toward the presence she instinctively recognized.

An ancient dragon. A messenger.

Not Liguen. A royal advisor.

But that fact alone sent a shiver of dread through her.

How? She had destroyed the only portal connecting her old world to this one. No dragon should be able to cross over.

And yet, the undeniable truth stood before her—someone had found a way to break the barrier between worlds.

Liguen had never stopped searching for her. And now, he had found a way in.

Lya didn’t hesitate. She shot to her feet, feeling the ghostly tremor of her wings beneath her skin. She needed to warn Caleb. Immediately.

“Caleb,” she called through their mental link, her tone grave. “Drake, Malick. Come to the pack house entrance. A messenger is arriving.”

The moment the words left her, the three wolves appeared almost instantly. They didn’t need to ask questions. If Lya summoned them like this, it was serious.

And just seconds later, the heavy silence of Sacred Moon was shattered by the arrival of an outsider.

Draped in rich black robes embroidered with draconic symbols, the stranger carried himself with an air of authority, his sharp gaze unwavering. He ignored the wary eyes of the sentinels and the pack warriors on high alert. His attention was fixed on one person and one person only.

Lya.

“I am the royal advisor of Liguen.”

Three hearts stopped cold.

Caleb, Drake, and Malick—standing at Lya’s side—froze. For a brief moment, an oppressive silence crushed the air around them. Then, like a storm breaking over a battlefield, the weight of those words exploded outward.

Caleb’s fists clenched, his icy blue gaze sharpening to a deadly edge.

“He dares?” His voice was a low, guttural growl, vibrating with barely restrained fury.

Inside his mind, Handres roared, his rage an echo of his Alpha’s.

“That insect thinks he has the right to lay eyes on her?!” the wolf snarled, his fury crackling like wildfire. “We should rip his throat out before he speaks another word.”

Caleb closed his eyes briefly, battling the storm within.

“Patience, Handres.” His mental voice was taut, controlled. “We need to listen before we act.”

Handres grumbled in discontent but held back—though Caleb could still feel his wolf's thirst for violence simmering beneath the surface.

Beside him, Malick’s hand instinctively went to his weapon, ready to strike at the slightest provocation. Drake’s breathing was faster, his entire body tense with cold fury.

“That bastard never gave up…” he muttered, as if struggling to believe that this moment had finally arrived.

Lya, outwardly composed, placed a firm hand on Caleb’s arm. She could feel his energy boiling beneath his skin, Handres itching to tear apart the emissary who dared taint their territory with his presence.

But they had to listen.

For now.

It didn’t take long for the news to spread like wildfire throughout the pack. Whispers swelled, turning into anxious discussions. Wolves began evacuating the youngest, escorting the pups to a secured building. The Elders, on the other hand, gathered together, exchanging heavy, knowing looks. After having long demanded to be more involved in pack affairs, they now found themselves at the very heart of the concerns.

Ironically, they were now accompanied by the youngest, as the nursery had been relocated near their residence to facilitate the transmission of ancestral knowledge.

The border sentries went on high alert. Every access point was locked down.

Despite it all, panic did not take hold of Sacred Moon.

Fear did not rule here. Here, they reacted. They protected. They fought.

Lya lifted her chin, her eyes gleaming like twin storms.

“Speak.” Her voice cracked like a whip.

The advisor smirked, bowing slightly—his respect more mockery than sincerity.

“Liguen will not ask twice.” His tone was smooth, but his arrogance was suffocating.

His smirk widened, as if savoring the moment. “He comes to claim what belongs to him.”

A low, feral growl rumbled from Caleb, deep and thunderous, promising nothing but carnage.

Lya shook her head, a cold smile on her lips, barely concealing the disdain she felt for the advisor's words.

“I do not belong to Liguen. I never have, and I never will.”

Her eyes burned, a silent promise of destruction.

The pack tensed. Caleb, beside her, barely held himself back, his entire being vibrating with suppressed rage. Drake and Malick were poised to strike, muscles coiled like predators on the hunt. Even Handres, in Caleb’s mind, was snarling, his primal instincts demanding they protect their mate.

But the advisor did not falter. Though his smug exterior cracked just slightly, he had expected this answer. Still, he knew Liguen wouldn’t be pleased.

“Liguen will show no mercy if you continue to resist, Princess Lya.”

The tone was honeyed, falsely diplomatic, but beneath every word pulsed the implicit threat of an ancient dragon—an entity whose pride would not tolerate being defied.

But Lya did not flinch. Her gaze pierced through the advisor with unwavering determination. When she spoke, her voice was as sharp as a blade meticulously honed.

"Liguen took my family from me." Her words rang out, heavy and unyielding, and everyone who heard them felt their weight. "He will not take my new family. Not this time."

A tense silence fell over the square, but Lya continued, her unseen wings trembling beneath her skin, her energy crackling in the air like a brewing storm.

"Tell him this, advisor: I am no longer the young dragoness he once tried to subdue with poison. This time, I am in full command of my power. And this time..."

She took a step forward, her aura surging around her, sending out a wave of heat that made even the strongest wolves shudder.

"I will fight. I will not run."

The advisor remained silent, but a flicker of uncertainty passed through his eyes. He knew he had to deliver these words to his master. And Liguen would not be merciful.

"You won't be able to say I didn’t warn you, Princess Lya."

Lya slowly crossed her arms over her chest, her piercing gaze never leaving the royal advisor. Every second she gained by speaking with him was precious. The longer she talked, the more time she gave the pack to prepare. Because she knew—there was no doubt about it—Liguen was coming. And when he did, he would not come as a negotiator, but as an enraged conqueror, blinded by his obsession.

She could almost feel it, through the invisible threads of the bond connecting her to Caleb and the pack, the rising tension in Sacred Moon. Orders were being given, strategies put into place. The wolves’ protective instincts were awakening like a raging beast, ready to defend its territory and its queen.

But Lya also knew one essential truth: this battle would be hers.

She would have to face Liguen in her true form—the one she had long suppressed. She would fight. And she would win.

Her jaw tightened slightly as she reached out to Caleb through their mental link, her voice resonating with controlled gravity.

"Is the pack preparing to take shelter, Caleb? If I have to fight, there will be damage."

There was no maybe, no uncertainty. She wasn’t trying to avoid the battle. She embraced it.

A few steps away, Caleb was still watching the advisor, his face as hard as stone. But inside, he was boiling with a rage he struggled to contain. When he finally responded, his mental voice was a deep growl.

"Yes, babe. Drake, Malick, and Darrien are making sure the pups and elders are evacuated to the underground shelters. Our warriors are taking position. If that bastard dares set foot here, he won’t leave in one piece."

A silent pause stretched between them, but Lya could feel the lingering worry in her mate. He knew he couldn’t protect her from this fight.

"Caleb," she murmured through their bond, deliberately softening her tone, "I will win. He won’t take this life from me."

She felt the faint shudder of acceptance from Caleb. He trusted her, of course. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to tear Liguen’s throat out with his own hands.

Caleb refocused on the advisor, his jaw clenched so tightly his fangs glinted under the light.

"You have your answer," he snarled, his voice like ice. "Tell your master he is not welcome here. If he comes, he will burn with his delusions."

The advisor raised an eyebrow, an enigmatic smile playing on his lips.

"Then prepare yourselves."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode away, his long cloak billowing behind him.

Lya took a deep breath, feeling the storm closing in.

**Author's Note:** The clash of titans is finally coming. Be ready!

Oh, and I need your help. Could you remind me of the unanswered questions still lingering? I have to admit, for this first book, I’m not very organized, and I don’t want to disappoint you by forgetting anything.