Chapter 30
Lyra’s POV
The bruises on Elias’s back hadn’t even begun to fade when he found me again.
I heard his voice first, low through the crack in my door. “Lyra.”
It was just my name, but it carried everything..pain, urgency, defiance. My stomach twisted. I should’ve told him to leave, that the risk was too great, but instead I opened the door.
He slipped inside quickly, shutting it behind him. The torchlight made the sheen of sweat on his skin glisten, and when my eyes caught the blood seeping faintly through his shirt, my breath caught.
“Elias,” I whispered. “You shouldn’t be here. If Draven finds out—”
“I don’t care what Draven thinks.” His jaw tightened. “I care about the truth. And about keeping you alive.”
The sharpness in his voice startled me. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, dark circles carving shadows beneath his eyes.
I swallowed. “You nearly died because of me once already. Why would you risk it again?”
His gaze softened. “Because I’d rather die searching for the truth than live as a coward who watched them break you.”
My chest ached at the fierceness in his words. Against all reason, I stepped aside and let him stay.
We slipped out under cover of darkness, moving through the packhouse halls like ghosts. Elias knew which guards would be half-asleep and which corridors creaked the loudest; being invisible was his survival. Tonight, it was our salvation.
The woods swallowed us whole. Crickets hummed, owls called, and pine needles crunched softly beneath our boots. Elias led with steady confidence, while I followed with my heart hammering in my ears.
“Where are we going?” I asked, keeping my voice low.
“You’ll see,” he muttered.
I hated that answer—but I trusted him.
Finally, he stopped at an old oak. Its bark looked scarred, as if claws or blades had raked across it long ago. Elias crouched, brushing moss away with careful fingers.
“Look.”
At first it seemed like scratches, meaningless marks. But as he traced the grooves, I saw it: deliberate carvings forming words.
The Flame Returns.
The letters stood out like open wounds in the wood. My breath left me in a shiver.
“What does it mean?” I asked.
Elias glanced up, his eyes glinting with fear. “It means you’re not imagining things. Someone’s leaving signs, and they’re tied to you.”
I shook my head, backing away. “No. That’s impossible. Why would rogues—or anyone—leave a message for me?”
“Because you’re at the center of this.” His voice was steady, unshakable. “Lyra, whether you believe it or not, you’re more than just some outsider who stumbled into this pack. The rogues know it. Maybe the council knows it too. And they’re playing games with us.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, the night suddenly too cold. “I didn’t ask for this. I never wanted to be anyone’s prophecy.”
He stood, closing the space between us, his hand hovering near mine. “I know. But pretending it isn’t real won’t make it go away. You saw Seraphina’s name. You saw the shrine. This message isn’t random—it’s about you.”
His words echoed in my bones, heavy and unshakable. Before I could reply, a new scent drifted into the clearing—iron and storm.
My heart stopped.
Draven.
He stepped from the shadows with the quiet menace of a predator, the moonlight cutting across his sharp features. His presence filled the clearing, suffocating and electric.
His gaze locked first on Elias, narrowing with lethal promise. Then his eyes found me. Fury, yes..but beneath it, something rawer, harder to name.
“What in the hell are you doing out here?” His voice was a growl, low and dangerous.
Elias straightened, though his shoulders trembled. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Draven’s lips twisted into a snarl. “It looks like betrayal. Again.”
“Don’t.” I moved in front of Elias, pressing a hand to Draven’s chest. His heat burned through me like fire. “If you punish him, you’ll have to punish me too. I asked him to come.”
A lie. But one I would carry.
Draven’s eyes flicked to my hand, then back to mine. The storm in them darkened.
“You defy me at every turn,” he said, voice rough, jagged like broken glass. “Do you know what that makes you?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Someone who refuses to bow.”
His chest rose and fell sharply under my palm. “You think I enjoy punishing loyalty? You think I wanted to see Elias whipped? Every time you run off, every time you challenge me, you force my hand. And every time… it costs you allies.”
I felt my throat tighten. “Then stop treating me like the enemy. I didn’t ask for this curse, Draven. I didn’t ask to carry a dead woman’s shadow. But I won’t stand by while you destroy the only friend I have left.”
Draven’s jaw clenched. His eyes burned, not just with anger but something deeper, something dangerous.
“You’ll get yourself killed,” he said.
“Maybe. But at least it’ll be on my terms.”
⸻
Before either of us could say more, crashing footsteps tore through the night. The scent of blood hit us—thick, sharp, metallic.
A scout stumbled into the clearing, clutching his side. His tunic was soaked crimson. He dropped to one knee before Draven, gasping for breath.
“Alpha,” he rasped. “The rogues—” He coughed, blood spattering the dirt. “They’re not hiding anymore. They’re… coming.”
His eyes lifted to me, wide with horror. “For her.”
The words slammed into me like claws to the chest. For me.
The clearing spun. My knees weakened.
The Flame Returns.
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.
Draven caught the scout before he collapsed completely, shouting orders to unseen guards as his voice thundered with command. Elias gripped my wrist, his hand trembling, his eyes full of dread.
And I stood frozen, the message carved into my skin, my soul.
They weren’t hiding anymore.
They were coming.
And I was the reason.