The return to Ravenguard territory was anything but quiet. Lyra rode ahead of the small group that had managed to extract her from Ronan's clutches, her thoughts a tangled storm of fear, regret, and something dangerously close to rage. Every muscle in her body screamed with exhaustion, and yet she sat tall, jaw clenched, eyes unflinching. Behind her, Cassian kept a vigilant watch while two warriors trailed behind, their silence a reminder that this was no triumphant homecoming.
Alaric was waiting at the gates.
The pack grounds were eerily still when they arrived. A thick tension hung in the air, choking the usual hum of evening activity. Warriors lined the main courtyard, standing rigid with anticipation. Alaric stood at the center, arms crossed over his chest, his face a storm of fury barely contained.
As Lyra dismounted, his eyes met hers. There was no warmth. No relief. Only fire.
"Inside. Now," he ordered.
She didn't flinch, nor did she obey. "You could say 'welcome back' first."
"Don't test me."
Cassian stepped forward. "She came willingly. We planned it. I"
"Not now," Alaric snapped. "This is between me and her."
He turned and walked toward the packhouse, expecting her to follow. And despite everything in her screaming to rebel, she did.
The doors slammed shut behind them.
"You went with him," Alaric growled, voice low and dangerous. "You let him *touch* you."
"He didn't touch me," Lyra snapped. "And I didn't go with him. I was taken. Then I escaped."
"You disappeared in the middle of the night, with no warning. You *lied.*"
She marched up to him, chest heaving. "I lied because I knew you'd stop me. You were too focused on posturing for the Council to see what needed to be done."
"I told you to stay inside our borders."
"And I told you I'm not your prisoner!"
Alaric's hand slammed into the wall beside her head. Not touching her, never touching her without permission but close enough to feel the tension crackle between them.
"You could've died," he said through clenched teeth. "Do you have any idea what that would've done to me?"
She stared up at him, defiant but shaking. "I didn't die. I came back. Isn't that what matters?"
His eyes searched hers, raw emotion swimming just beneath the surface. But it wasn't enough to soften his rage. Not yet.
"You disobeyed a direct order," he said. "There will be consequences."
"I did what had to be done. And if you punish me for it, then you're no better than Ronan."
That hit like a slap.
Alaric stepped back, as if her words burned.
"You think I'm like him?" he said quietly.
Lyra swallowed hard. "I think... you're scared of what you feel. And instead of facing it, you hide behind control."
His hands balled into fists. "You're wrong."
"Am I?"
Silence.
The kind of silence that hurts.
Later that night, the Luna Court convened in an emergency session, led by Elders and senior warriors. Lyra stood in the center, facing a semicircle of judges. Alaric sat behind them, silent as they questioned her.
"Did you leave of your own free will?"
"No."
"Did you make a deal with Alpha Ronan?"
"No."
"Then why didn't you come back immediately?"
"I had to wait for the right moment. I needed to get information first about his forces, his plans. I risked everything to bring it back to you."
The court murmured among themselves.
Cassian stood. "She saved us. We didn't even know there was an ambush planned for the east ridge. Her intel stopped a massacre."
The oldest elder leaned forward. "Your methods were reckless. But your intentions were loyal."
The room turned to Alaric.
"Well?" the elder asked. "What do you say, Alpha?"
Alaric rose, his expression unreadable. His gaze locked with Lyra's.
"She acted without orders. But she acted with courage."
He paused.
"I won't punish her."
Relief flickered across the room. But Lyra didn't relax.
Because he hadn't looked at her with anything other than distance. Whatever fire had burned between them had cooled into something far more dangerous ice.
That night, Lyra sat alone on the balcony outside her room, staring at the stars. Her wrists still bore faint bruises from the ropes Ronan's guards had used. Her heart still bore the bruises Alaric had left.
He hadn't come to see her.
Hadn't spoken to her since the court's decision.
She closed her eyes, letting the cold air kiss her skin. She didn't know if she could keep doing this. Fighting to be part of a pack that questioned her every move. Loving a man who refused to love her back openly.
Suddenly, the door opened behind her.
Alaric.
He said nothing as he stepped beside her. Just stood there, watching the sky.
"I should've trusted you," he said finally.
Lyra didn't reply.
"I was angry. Not because you left. But because I realized how easily I could lose you."
She turned to face him. "Then stop pushing me away."
He moved closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You deserve more than fury and silence. You deserve to be chosen. Every day. Without fear."
Her breath hitched. "Then choose me."
He leaned in, voice barely a whisper. "I already did."
Their lips met this time without hesitation. Without heat fueled by anger or need. This kiss was slower, deeper. A promise.
But promises were fragile things.
And just beyond the borders of Ravenguard, a new storm was brewing.
Ronan would not accept defeat.
And neither would those still loyal to him hidden in plain sight.