Chapter 11
Lyra's POV
By the time the motorcycle rolled out of Crimson Fang territory, it was already deep into the night.
I decided to check into a hotel, booking the most ordinary room available and paying in cash to avoid leaving any traceable records.
The room was small, its window overlooking Chicago's neon lights that never seemed to sleep.
I sat on the edge of the bed and opened my laptop, preparing to organize and archive all the evidence I'd collected over the past few days before setting out for Silver Moon territory first thing in the morning.
As I pulled up the surveillance footage from the apartment, I'd originally intended only to save the recording of Kael and Mira's intimate encounter, but while fast-forwarding through the footage, I caught a segment that made my fingertips freeze on the mouse.
Kael was standing alone in the living room, taking a phone call.
There would have been nothing noteworthy about it, until I heard his voice coming through the speakers.
"The Silver Moon bloodline lead is still being pursued."
Silver Moon bloodline.
My hand tightened on the mouse as I dragged the progress bar back and turned the volume to maximum.
"The Silver Moon bloodline lead is still being pursued." Kael's voice came through clearly, his tone carrying a kind of deferential respect I'd never witnessed in him before, something close to a subordinate's report. "No definitive results yet. The screening is still ongoing."
The voice on the other end was muffled and indistinct—I couldn't make out what the person was saying, only inferring from Kael's subtle nods that the other party might be issuing instructions.
The call lasted less than two minutes, and before hanging up, Kael spoke one final sentence.
"Understood. I'll brief Blood Moon on my end."
My fingers stopped on the keyboard.
Blood Moon.
I'd seen that name before, in the deepest archives of Silver Moon's library—those ancient records marked as "Eliminated Threats."
The Blood Moon Cult. A forbidden sect that had been jointly eradicated by all northern werewolf packs seven years ago. They worshipped an insane doctrine: by sacrificing those with Silver Moon bloodlines, they could steal the Moon Goddess's power and gain strength and longevity far beyond ordinary werewolves.
They hunted werewolves with Silver Moon blood, using their blood to perform sacrificial rituals on full moon nights.
Seven years ago, when I was sixteen, my mother was attacked during a solo outing. By the time we reached the scene, she was barely clinging to life. A blood-red crescent mark had been carved into her arm—the symbol of the Blood Moon Cult.
My father had mobilized all of Silver Moon's resources to track down the killers, ultimately capturing only a few executors while the mastermind behind it all remained a mystery. Shortly after, the Northern Werewolf Council announced that the Blood Moon Cult had been eradicated, and the case was sealed away, left unresolved.
But now, Kael had mentioned Blood Moon again.
I replayed that segment of surveillance five times, confirming I hadn't misheard a single word.
Kael was screening for Silver Moon bloodlines.
The man who had been sleeping beside me for three years might very well be working for the forbidden cult that murdered my mother.
An even more terrifying thought followed: those roses from when he first pursued me, those midnight runs, that tenderness that made me fall—was any of it genuine, or was it all part of Blood Moon's conspiracy?
My phone suddenly vibrated, interrupting my thoughts.
It was my father calling.
"Lyra, the northern borders have been unsettled lately." My father's voice sounded exhausted. "Several members of Silver Moon's branch families have gone missing, with their last known locations all around the Chicago area. The Council has already sent people to investigate, but you're out there alone—you need to be extra careful."
My fingers tightened around the phone, knuckles whitening from the pressure.
Chicago area, Silver Moon bloodlines, disappearances.
These clues assembled themselves in my mind like puzzle pieces forming a terrifying picture—the Blood Moon Cult hadn't been eradicated at all, but was continuing their sacrificial rituals.
"I understand, Father. I'll be careful." I worked to keep my voice calm. "You stay safe as well."
After hanging up, I stood by the window for a long time, watching the traffic flowing through the streets below, contemplating what to do next.
Reason told me I should leave Chicago immediately, return to Silver Moon territory, and turn this intelligence over to my father so he could contact the Northern Werewolf Council to handle it. But another voice rose from deep within me—the responsibility of being Silver Moon's heir, the obsession of a daughter who had lost her mother.
Those missing pack members were all branch bloodlines of Silver Moon, all people I should be protecting.
If I left now, if the Blood Moon Cult captured more people after I was gone, if they completed some terrible ritual that I could have prevented—I would never be able to forgive myself.
More importantly, Kael was here. He was Blood Moon's contact in Chicago.
Through him, I might be able to trace the entire organization, avenge my mother, and rescue those missing pack members.
I had to stay in Chicago.
The next morning, I went down to the hotel's buffet restaurant for breakfast, and the moment the elevator doors opened, I saw a familiar figure—Dane, a mid-level member of Crimson Fang who usually handled territorial patrols and was on good terms with Kael.
When he spotted me, his expression shifted into one of exaggerated surprise.
"Lyra? What a coincidence running into you here." He approached, his gaze sweeping over me. "Why are you staying at a hotel alone?"
I maintained a calm expression while rapidly assessing in my mind whether this encounter was coincidence or Kael's deliberate arrangement.
"Just getting away to clear my head, changing environments for a few days. You know how it is—Kael's so busy with work, I didn't want to disturb him."
Dane nodded, but I could see the suspicion lurking in his eyes. "I see. Well, you should be careful out here alone. Want to grab breakfast together? We could catch up on recent events?"
"No need, I still have some shopping to do." I politely declined, walking past him while feeling his gaze following me until I exited through the hotel's front doors.
Once I was certain I'd left his line of sight, I immediately called my father.
"Father, I might need a few more days before I can return." I tried to keep my voice light. "There are some personal matters I need to handle here."
"What personal matters?" My father's tone immediately became guarded. "Lyra, are you in some kind of trouble?"
I hesitated for a long moment, but ultimately decided not to tell him about the Blood Moon Cult.
Seven years had passed, and my father had only just managed to emerge from the shadow of my mother's murder.
If I told him now, without concrete evidence, that the Blood Moon Cult hadn't truly been eradicated, I would only be giving him a hope that might prove false again—or worse: he would rush to Chicago regardless of everything, investigating personally and putting himself in danger.
I couldn't let him become entangled in this vortex while knowing nothing.
"Just some relationship issues. I need time to think things through." I lied. "Don't worry, Father. I'm safe."
"Alright, but remember your meeting with Orion tomorrow." My father didn't press further, only offering that final reminder.
"Of course. I'll prepare well for it." I promised.
After hanging up, I reached into my pocket, my fingers brushing against the fragments of my mother's bracelet—they gave me the courage to face whatever lay ahead.
Tomorrow, I would meet with Orion to formally finalize the details of our wedding.
Then I would have to return to Crimson Fang territory and use Kael to trace the Blood Moon Cult's leads.
It was dangerous—I knew that clearly.
But my mother's vengeance remained unavenged, the missing pack members' fates remained unknown, and the Blood Moon Cult was still operating in the shadows.
As the sole heir of Silver Moon, I had no right to retreat.