The rabbit's heart stopped beating beneath Lyra's bloody fingers. She crouched in the shadowy forest, dirt caked under her nails, counting the seconds until her eighteenth birthday came. Three more hours. Three more hours until she became a full adult wolf, and maybe—just maybe—the guilt would finally leave her alone. "Happy birthday to me," she whispered to the dead rabbit. Thunder rumbled overhead. Rain began to fall, washing the blood from her hands. Lyra stuffed the rabbit into her old leather pouch and stood, bones creaking from sleeping on hard ground for ten years. Ten years since she'd run from her pack. Ten years since Elara drowned. Ten years since her father screamed those terrible words: "Why did she die but not you?" Lyra's chest suddenly burned like fire. She gasped, stumbling against a tree trunk. Her heart hammered against her ribs, each beat sending lightning through her veins. Something was happening. Something big. "What the—" Pain exploded in her chest. Not physical pain. Something deeper. Something that reached into her soul and squeezed tight. Her wolf stirred inside her, whimpering and fighting to get out. Mate bond.
The words crashed into her mind like a fallen tree. Lyra had heard stories from other rogues. When wolves turned eighteen, their hearts called out to their chosen partner. But she was alone. She'd been alone for ten years. Who could possibly— Another wave of fire shot through her chest. This time, it pulled. North. Toward the territories she'd left as a child. "No," she snarled, pushing her back against the tree. "I'm not going back. Never." But the pull grew stronger. Like an unseen rope tied around her heart, yanking her toward something she couldn't see. Someone she'd never met. Her wolf paced inside her mind, excited and desperate. Find him, her wolf urged. Find our mate. "I don't want a mate," Lyra snapped aloud. "I don't want anyone." Lightning cracked across the sky. In that short flash of light, Lyra saw something that made her blood freeze. A child stood twenty feet away. Small. Pale. Water dripping from her long dark hair. "Elara?" Lyra's voice broke. The child tilted her head. When she smiled, her teeth were sharp as knives. "Hello, sister." Lyra blinked. The forest was empty again. Just trees and rain and her own thundering beating. But the smell stayed. River water. Sweet and rotten, like flowers left too long in the sun. "I'm losing my mind," Lyra whispered, wiping rain from her eyes. "Ten years of guilt and now I'm seeing ghosts." The mate bond pulsed again, stronger this time. So strong it brought her to her knees. Images flashed through her mind—not her own memories, but someone else's. A huge stone castle. Wolves with red eyes.
A man with black hair and a face cut from ice. Alpha, her wolf whispered. Strong. Dangerous. Ours. Lyra fought against the pull, but it was like beating the tide. Her body moved without permission, feet bringing her north through the forest. Toward the Bloodmoon Pack area. Toward the banned river where Elara had died. "Stop," she ordered her own legs. They didn't listen. Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. Time felt broken. The mate bond pulled her forward like a fish on a hook, and all she could do was stumble along behind it. Dawn broke gray and cold. Lyra found herself standing at the edge of a clearing she recognized. Her stomach dropped. The river. Black water moved slowly between the trees, reflecting nothing. Not the sky. Not the trees. Just darkness. The same river that had eaten her sister whole. "Why here?" Lyra whispered. Her mate bond pulsed, pointing across the water. On the other side stood dogs. Dozens of them. Their eyes glowed red in the morning light, and their hair was midnight black. Bloodmoon Pack dogs. One wolf stepped forward. Larger than the others. When he changed into human form, Lyra's breath caught. He was beautiful and terrible. Tall as a tree, with shoulders big enough to carry the world. His black hair fell across sharp cheekbones, and his eyes were the color of winter storms. Everything about him screamed danger. Everything about him called to her selfish heart. "Lyra Blackthorn," he said. His voice was deep and cold as the river itself. "I am Kael Nightshade, Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack." "I didn't ask," Lyra shot back, though her wolf was practically humming. Kael's mouth twitched. Maybe a smile. Maybe a snarl. "You're coming with me." "Like hell I am." "Your mate bond disagrees." He pointed to her chest, where the burning had become a steady ache. "You felt it too. Last night. The pull." Lyra's hands clenched into fists. "That doesn't mean anything."
"It means everything." Kael stepped to the water's edge. "Cross the river, little rogue. Come home." "This isn't my home. It never was." "Your sister would disagree." The words hit Lyra like a physical blow. Her vision went white at the edges. "What did you just say?" Kael's storm-gray eyes fixed on hers. "Elara. Sweet little Elara with her silver laugh and her flower hats. She lived with us for three years before she died." "You're lying." But even as Lyra said it, she knew he wasn't. There was something in his voice. Something broken. "She spoke of you often," Kael continued, his voice softer now. "Her brave big sister who taught her to climb trees. Who promised to keep her safe." Tears burned Lyra's eyes. "I failed her." "Yes," Kael said simply. "You did." The honesty was a knife to the heart. But somehow, it hurt less than the lies she'd been telling herself for ten years. "Cross the river," Kael said again. "There are things you need to know. About Elara. About the curse. About why your mate bond led you here." "What curse?" Kael's smile was sharp as broken glass. "The one that killed your sister. The one that's been waiting for you to come home." Behind him, the other dogs began to howl. The sound sent shivers down Lyra's spine. "Tick tock, little rogue," Kael called over the screaming. "The river doesn't like to wait." As if called by his words, the black water began to bubble. Steam rose from its surface, bringing the smell of death and old magic. Lyra looked at the water. At Kael. At the wolves with their bright red eyes. Her mate bond pulsed once more, so strong it nearly dropped her. Choose, her wolf whispered. Stay and think forever. Or cross and learn the truth. "What truth?" Lyra called out. Kael's eyes glittered with lies. "That your sister's death was no accident. That someone in my pack wanted her dead.
And that same someone is coming for you next." The river bubbled harder. In its dark depths, Lyra could swear she saw a small hand reaching up toward the surface. Reaching for her. She took a step toward the water. Then another. "Good girl," Kael whispered, but his voice sounded wrong. Too happy. Too hungry. Lyra's foot touched the river's edge. The water turned red as blood. And somewhere in the distance, a child began to laugh.