Chapter 51 Blood Calls to Blood

Chapter 51 Blood Calls to Blood
Lyra

The mind-link hums, and I cling to it like a lifeline.

“We’ve already started watching the gates,” Jorin says. “They rotate every four hours. Six guards per watch. I’ll track their weaknesses. Are they holding you in the tower or the dungeon?” 

“Fortunately neither,” I begin. “They want us to rule here and are giving us the freedom to walk around the castle. However, if we try to step out without permission, I highly doubt it will be a welcome endeavor.” 

“It’s perfect that they don’t have you locked up. That means all we have to do is bust you out, rather than breaking down their door,” Jorin replies. “Make sure you say that through the Song mind-link, so they’ll know.” 

Once I tell the three Song pack members about our liberty to move freely among the castle, Rain cuts in. “I’m covering the north wall from the outer tree line.  It’s higher, up on a foggy ridge, but the patrols are sloppy up here. They talk too much and don’t look down enough. If there’s a way to escape through here, I’ll find it.”

A bit of pride stirs in me despite the circumstances. They came all this way, risking their lives for us, and now I have complete faith that we will make it out of here alive. 

Fenric’s voice follows, low and even. “Just before dawn, I’ll sweep wider. I’ll check for supply  wagons, scouts, anything moving between here and the outer villages. If they’re feeding this army, I’ll know how and when. Maybe there’s an escape through there.” 

“And I’ll keep to the shadows leading out of the fortress and into the village,” Mack adds. “I’ll follow nobles and castle attendees out and mark which gates stay open late. Anything useful, I’ll bring back.”

Their voices overlap and braid together through the mind-link, each one a piece of the net they’re weaving around the Blood Moon stronghold. It’s not a plan for tonight, just quiet, patient, groundwork. 

I swallow hard. “You’re putting yourselves at risk just by being this close. Thank you. All of you.” 

“We’ve done worse,” Rain says with a laugh. “This is nothing compared to what you’re up against in there. That place is creepy, even from a mile away.” 

“You’re not alone,” Jorin reminds me. “Not ever. The moment you give the word, Lyra, we’ll move. Until then, we wait.”

The words slam into me, and I close my eyes, and forgive him for crossing a boundary the other night. Jorin has always been a great friend, and mistakes happen. 

Bram and I lie side by side on the soft, luxurious bed, the velvet sheets warm beneath us, the chamber lavish in every detail, but the grandeur does nothing to lift our spirits. 

We haven’t seen each other for what feels like an eternity, and the thought that one of us might have died claws at my chest. I ache to hold him, to let the relief and longing consume us, but not here. Not in this wretched place. Instead, we press a desperate, lingering kiss to each other’s lips, a silent promise and a whispered “good night.” We curl close, seeking comfort in proximity, but neither of us sleeps. The unease and adrenaline from yesterday, paired with the knowledge that everything could be taken from us again, keeps us tense. 

Hours pass in restless silence, and when morning finally begins to seep through the curtains, we have barely rested at all. 

The crimson gown I wore last night lies pooled on the floor, heavy and wrinkled, like a shed skin I never wanted. Kaelen is dead, Maelis is my aunt, and I am trapped in the castle at Blood Moon.

Bram stirs beside me, his arm draped across my waist.  “Did you sleep?” I ask.

He huffs a humorless laugh. “How could I?”

I turn toward him, resting my forehead against his. For a second, I try to forget Maelis and Kiayara, but the  knock on the chamber door drags me back to reality. 

I rise quickly, pulling on the gown. 

The door swings open before I can even answer, and a pair of guards bow stiffly. “The Luna summons you both.”

Bram and I exchange a look and then instantly mask our expressions with the calm indifference of seasoned warriors. We follow the guards through winding stone corridors until the throne room sprawls open before us.

Maelis sits high on her throne, radiant in black, red and silver. Kiayara sits at her right side, her apparently permanent pompous smirk more annoying than intimidating.

“Ah, my victors,” Maelis purrs. “Come forward.”

We obey, though every step feels like walking into a snare.

“You fought with grace and determination, Lyra. I was certainly impressed.” Her eyes narrow slightly, and I know she’s searching for something in me. I show her nothing. 

“Your offer was clear,” I say even toned. “I accepted.”

“Good,” she says. “Then you’ll prove it tonight.”

The words prickle up my spine. “How?”

Her gaze slides to Bram. “Your mate will train my warriors today.  Blood Moon must remain sharp, and there is no sharper blade than a wolf who’s tasted both loyalty and betrayal.”

I want to protest, to snarl that Bram is not hers to command, but Bram beats me to it. He inclines his head, calm and cool. “As you wish, my Luna.”

I catch his voice through the mind-link. “We’ll play along. Don’t give her reason to doubt us.”

Maelis’s eyes return to me. “And you, niece, will swear loyalty, tonight, before the entire pack.”

“You want me to swear an oath?”

“Not just an oath, but a public creed. The pack must see you as mine. It’s not enough to wear our colors, you must bleed them.”

She gestures, and a servant brings forward a small silver blade, resting on a velvet cushion. “A cut across your palm. A cut across my palm. A cut across your sister's palm. A vow written in blood.”

Bram’s fury pulses through the mind-link, hot and fast. “Don’t you dare.”

But I force my voice to stay steady. “If that’s what you require, Luna.”

Her smile sharpens. “You learn quickly.”

Kiayara steps forward, her eyes glittering. “I’ll prepare her for the ceremony.” Her gaze rakes over me. Sister or not, she looks at me like prey.

Maelis dismisses us with a flick of her hand, and the guards escort Bram away in one direction while Kiayara leads me down another.

As soon as we’re alone, her audacity deepens. “You don’t belong here. Everyone can see it.”

“I didn’t ask to be here,” I mutter.

“I’ve always wondered about you. I knew you’d be weak.”

Anger surges through me. “I just killed Kaelen. Does that seem weak to you?”

Unbelievably, for just a beat, her smirk falters, then hardens again. “One fight doesn’t make you strong. When you kneel tonight and swear to Maelis, then maybe I’ll believe you deserve the blood we share.”

I grit my teeth, “There’s one thing I must know. Why did you have to kill Arica? What did she do to you?” 

“Arica?” For a moment, Kiayara has to genuinely force herself to remember whom I’m speaking of. “Oh, the Running River she-wolf. I remember her. That was all just a ploy to get you kicked out of your home, Lyra. Kaelen has never wanted you in Running River. He knew our bloodline was far too powerful and that you’d eventually find a way to become Luna.” 

“And you couldn’t have that?” I ask incredulously. 

“Maelis couldn’t. If you were Luna of Running River, she couldn’t rule over you here.”

I want to ask her why she allows Maelis to rule over her, why I should allow Maelis to rule over me, but that will draw suspicio,n so I bite my tongue. 

The moment the door to the bedchamber shuts, Bram’s voice floods through the mind-link. “Lyra. Are you okay?”

I sink onto the edge of the bed, my hands trembling despite myself. “You heard her. They want me to swear blood loyalty tonight in  front of everyone.”

“You can’t. Once your blood mixes with theirs, the bond will tighten. It’ll make leaving impossible.”

“What choice do I have?” I whisper. “If I refuse, Maelis will kill us both. If I agree, we buy time.”

“You’re right. Time is all we need.”

I open my eyes, staring at the scarlet armor Kiayara has laid across the chair for tonight’s ceremony. The fabric gleams like spilled blood.

We’re running out of time.



Evening falls like a hammer.

The throne room is transformed again, this time not for celebration, but for ritual. Torches blaze hauntingly, stretching tall shadows across the walls, and hundreds of Blood Moon warriors and nobles fill the hall.

I stand before them in their armor as Maelis rises from her throne.

“Tonight,” she announces, “our pack will be made stronger. Tonight, blood calls to blood.”

She gestures to me. “Lyra stands ready to take her rightful place at my side.”

The blade hovers above my palm, and Maelis’s gaze pins me in place. The hall buzzes with the rhythmic chanting of the oath: words of blood, loyalty, honor and power.

I inhale, ready to press the tip to my skin, when a sudden movement grabs my attention. The Blood Moon warriors, hoods covering their face in ceremonial black and crimson, yank their cloaks free revealing flashes of sapphire and silver underneath. Blue Raven colors.

The chanting is shattered with roars and snarls as the disguised pack members shift into wolf form, lunging at Maelis and her elite guards. Chaos explodes around us.

Bram grabs my hand, pulling me low to the floor as claws flash and bodies crash in a storm of fur and fang. Maelis howls in pain, her guards shifting to defend her, forming a wall of snarling, clawing wolves. 

“This way!” Bram hisses, dragging me toward the side door. My heart slams against my ribs, every nerve alight with adrenaline and fear. The ceremonial hall that minutes ago felt like a cage is now a battlefield, a twisted blur of shifting forms and shattered loyalties.

As we run, I glance over my shoulder, and  Kiayara’s eyes meet mine. I can tell she orchestrated this attack, not to help me, but to kill her own Luna, our own aunt. 

Bram and I shift and slip through the doors, every step carrying the taste of freedom and the sting of risk.