Chapter 44

Chapter 44
Lyra’s POV

The courtyard smelled of smoke long before I stepped into it.

Draven stood in the center, sleeves rolled to his elbows, the torchlight catching the scar that ran down the length of his forearm. He looked carved from shadow and fire both..impossible to ignore, impossible to approach without feeling like I was about to burn myself.

“I told Dorian to handle my training,” I said, stopping at the edge of the stone ring. “Or Kaelia. Or literally anyone who isn’t you.”

Draven’s eyes lifted to mine. Gold flickered there, restrained but restless. “And I told you I’ll be the one to teach you. The fire answers to you, Lyra—but when it lashes out, I’m the only one who can withstand it.”

A spark leapt down my spine at his words. I hated that it did.

“Or maybe,” I shot back, folding my arms, “you just don’t trust anyone else to keep me on a leash.”

Something in his jaw tightened. Not anger..something rougher.

“This isn’t about leashes,” he said quietly. “It’s about keeping you alive.”

The way he said it made the fire in my chest stutter. My throat went tight. I wanted to throw his words back at him, but they rooted under my skin instead.

“Fine,” I muttered. “Show me, Alpha.”

His lips curved, not quite a smile, more like satisfaction that I’d yielded, even if only a little. He stepped closer, filling the air with the scent of pine smoke and the earthy undertone of his wolf.

“Again,” he said, nodding toward the unlit brazier at the edge of the courtyard.

I exhaled slowly, lifting my hand. Heat coiled in my veins, a familiar burn building in my chest. I focused on the metal bowl, willed the fire to flow outward..controlled, steady, harmless.

The flames leapt too high. They roared from my palm, a torrent instead of a whisper, slamming into the brazier with enough force to rattle the stone base. Sparks showered the courtyard.

“Damn it,” I hissed, clutching my wrist as if I could throttle the fire back down.

Draven was behind me in an instant. His hand closed over mine, steady, unyielding. His chest brushed my shoulder blades as he leaned close, his voice low in my ear.

“Don’t fight it,” he murmured. “You can’t choke fire into obedience. You have to let it breathe.”

His breath ghosted across my cheek, hot as the flame itself. My pulse stuttered. “Easy for you to say,” I snapped, though my voice was thinner than I wanted. “It’s not clawing through your veins.”

“Then let me carry it with you.”

The words weren’t a command. They were a vow.

My hand trembled under his, fire flickering at my fingertips. “You can’t carry this. No one can.”

His grip tightened—not painful, just grounding. “Try me.”

For a moment, I almost did. I almost let go and let the fire wash through us both. But the intimacy of his closeness..the solid press of his body, the low rumble of his voice, made the flames inside me twist into something else entirely.

I wrenched away, breathless. “Stop it.”

Draven’s brow furrowed. “Stop what?”

“Acting like this is just training,” I said, my words sharper than I meant. “Like you’re not—like you don’t want to own me.”

The silence that followed was heavier than any flame.

Then, softly but raw, he said, “I don’t want to own you.” His eyes locked on mine, unflinching, as though he wanted to etch the truth into me. “I just want you alive.”

The fire in me surged at his words, wild and hungry. Not destructive this time..something else. Something that ached.

“Draven…” My voice caught, the name strange and tender on my tongue.

The space between us collapsed in a breath. His hand rose, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face, lingering just long enough to make my skin hum.

“I shouldn’t want this,” he said, his voice breaking like gravel. “Not with everything falling apart. Not with Mira’s betrayal, the rogues at our borders, the prophecy—”

“But you do.” The words slipped out, bare and reckless.

His chest rose sharply. For one suspended heartbeat, the bond between us crackled like a live wire. His wolf pressed close, bleeding into the edges of his eyes. Mine..whatever slept inside me..stirred in response, the flames rising in tandem.

And then..he kissed me.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t sweet. It was fire meeting fire, a collision that stole the air from my lungs and set my blood alight. His hand cupped the back of my neck, his mouth claiming mine like he’d been holding back for far too long.

I burned for him. With him.

But as quickly as it ignited, restraint snapped back between us. Draven tore himself away with a guttural sound, eyes blazing, chest heaving.

“This is a mistake,” he rasped, as if trying to convince himself.

“Then why did it feel…” My voice faltered, my lips still tingling. “…right?”

His gaze darkened, but before he could answer, footsteps pounded into the courtyard.

A scout skidded to a stop at the edge of the ring, eyes wide, chest heaving. “Alpha—Lyra—” He swallowed hard. “The rogues. They’re gathering near the old temple ruins.”

The words sliced through the night.

My stomach dropped. The temple. The same place Seraphina’s whispers had painted in my dreams.

Draven’s expression hardened instantly, the Alpha reasserting itself over the man. “How many?”

“Dozens,” the scout said, voice shaking. “Maybe more. And they’re preparing something—rituals, maybe. It feels wrong, Alpha.”

Draven’s jaw tightened. “Summon Dorian and the hunters. No one approaches until I give the order.”

The scout nodded sharply and vanished.

The courtyard was quiet again, but not like before. The fire inside me still hummed, raw from what almost happened. From what did happen.

Draven turned to me, his face caught between war and something else entirely. “The prophecy said the Flameborn would awaken at the temple,” he said. “If the rogues are there, they’re trying to force it.”

A shiver rippled through me. “Then we can’t let them succeed.”

“No,” he said, eyes burning into mine. “We can’t.”

For a moment, his hand almost reached for mine again. Almost.

But he let it fall.

And the fire inside me ached for what we both refused to take.