Lyra’s POV
The Bloodmoon Club throbbed with bass and heat—music pounding like a heartbeat gone feral. The air was thick with sweat, perfume, and lust, heavy enough to choke on. I’d drained three glasses of flaming whiskey, but nothing silenced the howl clawing its way up my chest. The room spun in streaks of crimson and silver, but through it all, I only saw them.
Kael. My knight. My ruin.
He stood in the VIP booth, posture rigid, expression unreadable—until she leaned close. Elowen. Her fingers brushed the edge of his jaw as she whispered something in his ear, and I saw it—his ears flushed red. A blush. Genuine.
My glass shattered in my hand.
I swallowed the rest of the burn and stalked toward the dance floor, letting the music devour my fury. My red dress clung to me like armor, a declaration of defiance. Wolves watched. Then they swarmed—young, drunk, entitled. One slid a hand down my hip.
“Back. Off.” My voice dropped to a growl.
They laughed. Another reached for me. I didn’t think—I bared my fangs. But the liquor dulled my reflexes.
“Kael!” I shouted, my voice slicing through the noise.
The response was instant.
The crowd broke apart as Kael approached, his aura flaring—raw, commanding, the kind that made lesser wolves instinctively bow. The boys scattered, terror lacing their drunken bravado.
“Oh, you do remember me,” I sneered, fury overriding any hint of gratitude. “For a moment, I thought you’d forgotten your actual duty. Or were you waiting for your real Luna to summon you first?”
His eyes darkened. “I didn’t see them—”
“No,” I cut him off, stepping close enough that he could feel my breath. “You didn’t want to.” I could smell Elowen’s scent on him, faint but undeniable. “You saw her. That’s all you ever see.”
He looked away, jaw tight. “You’ve had too much to drink.”
“Good,” I laughed bitterly. “It helps me think clearly.”
He said nothing, and I might’ve struck him then—but the air split with a scream.
Chaos detonated.
A shriek tore through the club, followed by panic and bloodlust. Wolves shifted mid-step, bones cracking, claws shredding fabric. Fangs gleamed. The scent of metal filled the air.
Vampires.
I caught a blur of movement—too fast, too deliberate. Kael shifted in an instant, his wolf a towering silver-gray streak cutting through the chaos. But not toward me.
Toward her.
Always her.
I turned, claws sliding free, just as a vampire lunged from the side. I caught his face with a swipe, tearing skin, but he was faster—stronger. His fangs sank deep into my shoulder.
The pain was incandescent. Poison burned through my veins like molten fire. I screamed, slamming my claws into him again and again until he released me, hissing before vanishing into the fray.
My knees hit the floor.
The club was a warzone—wolves clashing with vampires, blood slicking the floor beneath strobing lights. Through the haze, I saw Kael—his wolf tearing through three attackers to shield Elowen, his body between her and every strike.
Of course.
My vision blurred. My wolf surged, eyes glowing—something pulsing strange and wild beneath my skin. Then darkness swallowed me whole.
---
I woke to sterile light. The faint hum of machinery. Antiseptic in the air.
My shoulder throbbed. Bandaged. Mended. Alive.
Alive?
Vampire venom was a curse—it paralyzed, corrupted, dragged wolves into the same endless sleep that had claimed Alpha Thoren Dravenwood. So why wasn’t I fading? Why was I awake?
Before I could move, I heard them.
Through the glass wall, their silhouettes were unmistakable. Elowen—crying softly in his arms. Kael holding her like something fragile and sacred. His hand smoothed her hair, his voice gentle, soothing—the voice I’d never once heard directed at me.
“I shouldn’t have gone,” she whispered. “It’s my fault Lyra got hurt.”
“No,” he murmured. “You didn’t know. I should’ve protected you both.”
Her tearful eyes lifted to him. “Why… why did you protect me? Why not her?”
His voice broke. “Because… I lo—”
The crash was deafening. The vase by my bed shattered against the floor, glass skittering everywhere.
Kael’s head snapped toward me. Elowen gasped and rushed in.
“Lyra!” she cried, voice trembling, tears trembling on her lashes. “You’re awake! Oh, thank the Goddess, I—”
“Save it.” My voice came out a blade. “With you here, cluttering my air, how could I possibly heal?”
Her lip quivered. She ran from the room sobbing. Kael stayed.
“I didn’t have time—” he started.
“You had time for her,” I bit out. “You always do.”
He said nothing. The silence was worse than words.
---
Two days later, I walked into the study. Shoulder bandaged. Anger sharp enough to cut through bone.
He stood at attention.
“Kneel.”
Kael hesitated, then obeyed. Slowly.
“You failed your oath as my knight,” I said quietly. “You know the law—failure is repaid in blood.”
He didn’t flinch. “I know.”
“But I won’t kill you,” I continued. “Death’s too merciful. A punishment fits better, don’t you think?”
He looked up briefly, eyes weary but resolute. “If that’s what it takes.”
A laugh tore from my throat—bitter, hollow. “You’ll endure anything for her, won’t you?”
He didn’t deny it. He didn’t have to.
My claws slid free.
And just as I raised my hand—
“Stop!”
Elowen burst into the room, tears streaming, throwing herself between us. “Punish me! He did nothing wrong!”
“Move, Elowen.”
“No!”
Kael tried to pull her aside, but she clung to him, trembling.
“I said move!” I roared, fury spilling over.
She didn’t. And my wolf snapped.
My claws cut through the air before I could stop them. The scent of blood followed.
Elowen screamed, crumpling, her arms slashed open.
Kael caught her as she fell, his growl shaking the floor. His gaze lifted—cold, sharp, murderous.
He looked at me like I was something unholy.
Then he carried her out, wordless. The door slammed behind them.
And I stood there—claws dripping red, the pain in my hand nothing compared to the wound blooming in my chest.
