Lyra jolted awake, her heart pounding as her eyes darted toward the window. Outside, shadows twisted beneath the moonlight. Confusion clouded her mind—but before she could make sense of anything, the sudden appearance of Darius made her flinch back.
"My lady, please—do not leave the carriage," he said, his voice low, tense.
Lyra blinked at him, nodding slowly as if in agreement. But beneath the Beta's composed exterior, she sensed something else—uncertainty. Fear. A rare crack in his otherwise controlled demeanor.
And that was all she needed.
An idea sparked, and without another glance, she quietly reached for the small bag she'd been given earlier. Her hands trembled, heart slamming against her ribcage as she inched toward the door. Outside, the guards stood rigid, eyes fixed on the shadows of the dense forest ahead.
Something was out there. Something that had them on edge.
She didn't care.
This was her chance.
With one last breath, Lyra slipped out of the carriage and bolted.
The cold night air stung her cheeks as branches whipped against her skin. The world blurred around her, trees rushing past as she ran deeper and deeper into the forest. She didn't know where she was going—only that she had to get away.
I'll find the humans. They'll take me in. I can blend in. Start over. Just—keep going.
But she never got far.
A sudden force slammed into her from the side, sending her crashing into a tree trunk with a brutal thud.
Pain exploded across her side.
"Ah—!"
She gasped, but no sound came. Her body crumpled to the forest floor, lungs straining for air. And then she saw him.
A rogue.
His snarl twisted into something inhuman as he lunged, fingers wrapping tightly around her throat.
Terror surged through her.
She clawed at his arms, her silent mouth open in a scream that never came. No one would hear her. Her voice—gone. Always gone.
Desperate, she raised her hands, trembling, pleading.
But the rogue only sneered and slammed her head into the ground.
Agony split her skull. Her vision blurred.
Why? Why me?
She had only just begun to hope. To dream. Was this punishment for daring to believe she deserved more?
Tears slid down her cheeks as she mouthed a helpless prayer to the stars above.
Please… someone… help me.
She didn't want to die like this.
Not when she'd finally dared to want something for herself. A quiet life. Freedom. A chance to exist.
But dreams—dreams were dangerous things.
A single tear slipped down her cheek as her body gave out, surrendering to the pull of darkness.
And then—
A thunderous roar shattered the stillness of the forest.
The ground trembled. The rogue snarled and twisted to face the sound, but it was already too late. Chaos erupted—shouts, growls, the clash of claws and steel.
But Lyra was already slipping, her thoughts scattering into darkness.
The last thing she heard was the sound of something—someone—tearing through the night.
And then, silence.
Everything was still.
Lyra floated between dreams and nothingness, warmth and pain. For a fleeting moment, she thought maybe she had died—until a voice drifted into her mind.
"My lady is awake!"
The sound jolted her. She stirred, pain spiking through her back and neck. A sharp gasp escaped her lips as her body recoiled instinctively.
She was alive.
Barely.
Why?
She remembered the rogue. The forest. The roar. Everything else was a blur.
Her gaze shifted as a young woman appeared beside her bed—bright-eyed, flushed with relief.
"Please don't move, my lady," the girl whispered, gently tucking the blankets around her. "You're safe now. I'll get the physician."
Before Lyra could react, the girl vanished from the room.
Alone again, Lyra stared up at the wooden beams above her, heart thundering. Her body ached all over, but nothing compared to the confusion unraveling inside her.
How had she survived?
The door opened moments later. An elderly man entered, followed closely by Darius and the same girl—Penny.
The physician wasted no time. He studied Lyra with sharp eyes, his aura calm but authoritative. After a brief check, he turned to Darius.
"She'll live," he said simply. "But she needs time. And rest."
Darius nodded, tension bleeding from his shoulders. Without another word, he turned and left with the healer in tow, leaving only Penny behind.
Lyra's eyes followed them until the door clicked shut.
"My lady?" Penny stepped closer. "Did you hear what the healer said? You must rest. Your body is still recovering."
There was a gentleness in her voice. Concern, too.
Lyra pressed her lips together, frustrated. The weight of her failed escape crushed down on her. But she couldn't afford to dwell. Not now.
She pushed herself up, only to wince at the sharp jolt of pain lancing through her.
"Wait—let me help." Penny rushed forward and carefully adjusted the pillows, supporting her until she was sitting upright.
Lyra's gaze swept the room, landing on the bag across the room.
Penny noticed. "Do you need something, my lady?"
Lyra pointed toward the chair.
"Oh! Your bag?"
Lyra nodded quickly.
Penny fetched it without question, handing it over. Lyra rummaged inside, pulling out a notebook and pen, and immediately began to scribble.
Once finished, she turned the page toward Penny.
It's nice to meet you, Penny. Can you tell me how I got here?
Penny froze.
And in that moment, realization dawned.
The gestures. The silence. The urgency in her eyes.
Her lady was mute.
Emotion flickered across Penny's face. "You… you can't speak," she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
She stared for a long moment, then forced a smile, her voice soft and steady.
"Don't worry, my lady. I'll help you. Whatever you need."
Elsewhere, within the depths of the manor, Casian stood by the window, his posture rigid, arms folded behind his back. His gaze pierced through the glass, toward the horizon cloaked in night.
Behind him, Darius lingered like a shadow.
"She's stable," he said. "Still weak. But alive."
Casian didn't reply.
Darius shifted. "Are you sure she's the one?"
Casian's jaw tightened.
"Do you think I would lie to you?" he said coolly, his voice low with warning. "I swore I would live a barren life."
Darius looked away, shame flickering in his eyes.
Even Casian didn't understand it—not entirely. He'd gone to that auction for politics, not sentiment. But the moment he saw her… the way she looked at him with those wide, defiant eyes… something in him shifted.
His wolf, silent for years, had stirred.
And when she tried to run—when she nearly died—it had taken everything in him not to burn the forest down to get her back.
"Have you found Rowan?" he asked suddenly, pushing down the gnawing tension in his chest.
Darius sighed. "Not yet. But if I had to guess, he's somewhere being a reckless ass again. Probably still trailing the rogues."
Casian's expression darkened.
"He wasn't alone," he said quietly. "We both caught the scent. There were more of them."
"Yeah," Darius muttered. "Too many."
Before either of them could say more, a knock broke the silence. The door opened without permission.
Penny stood there, hands clasped tightly, anxiety written across her face.
Casian's brows furrowed. "Yes, Penny?"
"Is there a problem?"
Her lips parted, then hesitated—as if unsure how much to say.
But the look in her eyes told him all he needed to know.
Something had changed.
And it had everything to do with her.