The wind howled through the scorched trees as Ravenguard's warriors rode back victorious but not unscarred.
Lyra sat in front of Alaric on his steed, wrapped in a thick cloak, her body pressed to his chest. Her wrists were bruised. Her skin bore scrapes and dried blood. But she was alive. And she was free.
Alaric hadn't said a word since they left the Ironvale stronghold. His silence wasn't cold this time it was volatile. Dangerous. As if the only thing holding back his rage was the woman in his arms.
Cassian rode beside them, keeping a wary eye on the path, while Neris rode with one of the warriors behind. The former Luna hadn't stopped shaking since the escape, but Lyra admired her resilience. The horrors she'd endured in that dungeon… Lyra couldn't imagine.
When Ravenguard's gates finally came into view, cheers erupted from the sentries. But Alaric didn't stop. He carried her straight into the heart of the fortress and up to his chambers, where the doors slammed shut behind them.
He turned her gently toward him, his hands cupping her face.
"Did he hurt you?"
"No."
"Did he touch you?"
"No, Alaric. He tried, but I didn't let him."
His jaw tightened. "He will pay. I swear it."
Lyra placed her hands over his. "I don't want revenge right now. I want a moment to breathe."
He didn't answer with words. Instead, he leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers. The kiss was soft at first reverent but quickly deepened, fueled by rage, relief, and something neither of them could put into words.
She melted into him, gripping his shirt as if afraid he'd vanish.
When they finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against hers.
"You're mine," he whispered, "and I will burn down every pack in the realm to protect you."
The next morning, Lyra stood on the balcony wrapped in a fresh cloak, the rising sun washing the world in gold. Below, the Ravenguard warriors trained harder than usual, likely fueled by the sting of the infiltration.
Cassian approached with a grim look. "There's a message."
She turned sharply. "From Ronan?"
He nodded. "Delivered at dawn. No blood. No threats. Just… this."
He handed her a sealed envelope.
Lyra broke the wax and unfolded the parchment.
"Lyra,
Our dance was cut short. But I'm not done. I never am.
You know I see you the real you. Not just the bloodbonded prize Alaric wants to guard, but the warrior beneath the skin.
When you're ready to stop being claimed and start being chosen, meet me at the border ruins. Three nights from now. Come alone.
She exhaled sharply.
Cassian watched her face. "What do you want to do?"
"I want to tear the letter into pieces."
"But?"
"But part of me… wants to hear what he has to say."
Cassian crossed his arms. "He'll never stop, Lyra. You know that."
"I do. Which is why I need to finish this on my terms."
Alaric was livid.
"You are not going," he said, pacing across the war room floor. "Not alone. Not ever again."
Lyra stood tall. "He asked for me, not an escort. If I bring warriors, he'll vanish again. This could be our only chance to confront him."
Alaric slammed a fist onto the table. "He doesn't want to parley, he wants to steal you from me."
"I'm not a possession to steal," she snapped. "And if you trust me truly you'll let me do this."
His shoulders heaved. He was silent for a long moment.
Then, finally, he growled, "One night. One chance. If you're not back by sunrise, I come for him and I don't stop until he's ash."
Three nights later, Lyra stood alone at the border ruins.
The moon hung low and full. Mist curled around broken stones and skeletal trees. It was a place soaked in ancient magic, a former battleground where wolves once warred for territory long forgotten.
And then he appeared.
Ronan stepped from the shadows, dressed in black from head to toe. No weapons. No guards.
Just a smile that never reached his eyes.
"You came," he said.
"You left me little choice."
"I left you options. There's a difference."
Lyra folded her arms. "You kidnapped me."
"I rescued you from stagnation."
"You tortured others. Including Neris. Do you call that leadership?"
Ronan's expression darkened. "I lead a world that doesn't reward mercy."
She shook her head. "Then you're not the kind of Alpha this realm needs."
His voice lowered, seductive. "Then what are you doing here?"
"Because I want this to end. You and me. This chase. The threats. The obsession."
He took a slow step forward. "You think this is an obsession?"
He reached into his coat and pulled out a small crystal vial filled with shimmering silver liquid.
"What's that?" she asked, on guard.
"An ancient serum," he said, voice calm. "Mixed with wolfsbane and elixir of clarity. If you take it, it suppresses the Bloodbond for a time. Clears your heart and mind of all influences."
She blinked. "You want me to take it?"
"No. I want us both to take it."
He held out a second vial.
"That way," he continued, "when I ask you to choose there'll be no bond whispering in your blood. No guilt. No confusion. Just the truth."
Lyra stared at the vials. Her heart thundered.
"If you're so confident I'll choose you… why suppress the bond?" she asked.
"Because I don't want to win by default. I want you to see me and want me."
Lyra's breath hitched.
Part of her small, dangerous part was tempted.
What if the bond was clouding her feelings?
What if what she felt for Alaric was just instinct and biology?
What if Ronan was right?
But she didn't move.
"I'm not drinking that."
Ronan's smile faltered. "You're afraid of what you'll feel when it's gone."
"No. I'm not afraid." She stepped forward and looked him dead in the eye. "I know exactly how I feel. I love Alaric not because of the bond, but because he's earned it."
"You love a man who can't even say the words?"
She smiled. "He doesn't need to say them. He shows me. Every single day."
Ronan stared at her for a long moment.
Then he crushed the vial in his palm.
Silver spilled between his fingers.
"This isn't over," he said.
"No," Lyra agreed. "It's just beginning."
Back at Ravenguard, dawn was breaking.
Alaric waited at the gates, muscles tense, sword strapped to his back. Warriors lined the walls, ready to ride at a moment's notice.
When he saw her silhouette emerging through the fog, he exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
Lyra walked straight to him.
"I'm here," she said.
He didn't ask questions.
He just pulled her into his arms and held her like a lifeline.
She whispered into his chest, "He gave me a choice. And I still choose you."
Alaric kissed her temple. "Then I swear to the gods, Lyra I'll spend every day proving you made the right one."