Lyra’s POV

“Do it, Father. Strike me down… if you’re brave enough.”

The words left my mouth before I could think, before I could stop them, and once they were out, there was no pulling them back. My voice shook, not with fear, but with fury that burned hotter than the fire still roaring in the clearing behind us.

My father’s hand tightened around the hilt of the silver blade. The firelight made it gleam and for the first time, I saw it clearly, not just a blade and equally not just steel. The markings along the edge shimmered with runes, old and cruel. My stomach twisted. This wasn’t an ordinary weapon; it was made for one purpose. Probably, to kill me.

“You think I won’t?” His voice was low, dangerous and cold enough to make even Rowan flinch behind him. My father’s eyes locked on me, the same pale gray that had once seemed like stone walls keeping me safe, but now they looked like tombstones.

The circle of wolves pressed closer, breaths heavy, growls rumbling in their throats. I felt their hunger for my blood and their fear of what I’d become. My claws dug into the earth. My chest heaved.

Then Kael stepped between us.

Immediately, the world stilled. One heartbeat, two. The crowd rippled with shock as Kael’s broad frame blocked my father’s advance. His coat swayed in the wind, silver embroidery glinting under the blood-red moon, and his scent, earth and steel, cut through the haze of fear choking me.

“If she dies,” Kael said, his voice was steady and commanding, “you’ll start a war you cannot win.”

Gasps spread through the pack like wildfire. Even Rowan’s smug face faltered, confusion breaking his sneer. My father’s jaw tightened. “This is Vale territory. You have no say here.”

Kael’s lips curved, sharp as a blade. “I have every say. She is mine.”

The word hit me like lightning. Just then, I felt my heart stumble, my breath caught and a hundred voices whispered at once... Mate.

The mate bond seared through my chest, undeniable and violent, pulling me toward him like a rope bound in fire. But Kael’s eyes weren’t soft. They weren’t tender. They burned with warning, not devotion.

“You dare claim her?” My father snarled, his grip tightening on the blade.

Kael didn’t flinch. He leaned closer, his voice low but loud enough for all to hear. “She belongs to me now and if you kill her, Vale… then you’ll answer to the Blackthorn pack.”

Chaos erupted. Wolves shouted and growled, some backing away in fear, while others bristled in rage.

But my eyes weren’t on them. They were locked on the blade my father held. The runes gleamed like blood under moonlight. Recognition prickled down my spine.

“The Oathblade,” I whispered.

The air around us shifted. My father froze for the briefest moment and that pause told me everything. He knew I recognized it. He hadn’t expected me to.

The Oathblade is a weapon forged by Elders long before I was born. A blade made not to harm just any wolf, but to kill the Hollow Wolf... that's me.

“You had it ready,” I said, my voice breaking and shaking at the same time. “All this time, you’ve been waiting… waiting for me to fail.”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. His silence was the loudest confession.

The ground tilted beneath me, my chest caving in. My father, the man I had spent my whole life trying to please, hadn’t been protecting me. He had been preparing to kill me.

“Lyra!”

I turned at the sound of my name, my hope clawing for someone, anyone, to be real. Eira stood near the edge of the circle, her braid messy, her hands raised like she wanted to run to me while her lips trembled. Her eyes were too wide and too wet.

“Don’t,” I said, the word ripping from my throat.

“Please...”

But then I heard it. A whisper, too soft for anyone else but my ears, sharpened by the monstrous shift still simmering in my blood, caught it. The words weren’t pleasing and they weren’t comforting. They were spells. A chant, low and sharp, slipping from her lips. My heart cracked.

“You,” I gasped. My claws curled into fists. “You were chanting that night, too. You hexed me.”

Her face crumpled, guilt spilling out of her like blood. “I... I only wanted to protect you...”

“Protect me?” My laugh was broken, sharp and raw. “You lied to me, Eira. You knew.”

The pack murmured, whispers darting like knives. Betrayal burned through me hotter than fire. First, it was my father and now it's my best friend. Who else? Who else would show me their teeth before the night was over?

“Enough!” Rowan’s voice cut through the chaos, dripping with triumph. His smug grin widened as he stepped forward. “Why waste time? She’s cursed. The Seer said it herself. We all saw what she became. Kill her now before she destroys us all!”

The crowd roared in agreement. Wolves snarled, some shifting halfway, their teeth bared and eyes wild.

“The Elders will decide!” My father snapped, though his voice was strained, fraying at the edges.

The oldest Elder stepped forward, her white hair gleaming under the moonlight. Her eyes were sharp as glass. She lifted her hand and immediately, silence fell.

“The Blood Oath,” she said. Her voice carried like thunder, no matter how soft. “By the law of the packs, the cursed one must prove her worth. A trial, by combat or by execution, before the Blood Moon sets.”

My breath caught and at the same time, my blood froze. They wanted me to fight for my life.

“Who will face her?” the Elder asked.

Before anyone else could speak, Kael’s voice broke through the night.

“I will.”

The clearing erupted again, louder, wilder. My heart slammed against my ribs. “What?”

He turned to me, his face carved from stone. “If you are the Hollow Wolf, I will kill you. If you are not, then I will be bound to you forever.”

His words rang with finality, with prophecy and with something older than either of us. The bond between us pulsed, searing my veins, while reminding me that he wasn’t just a rival. He was fate.

I staggered back, my breath catching on my sob. Bound to me… or my executioner.

The pack stared, breathless and hungry for blood. My father’s hand trembled around the Oathblade. Eira’s tears streaked her face, guilt dripping from every look, while Rowan’s grin stretched wider, already tasting my death and then, the world broke.

My shadow stretched across the ground, darker than night and longer than it should have been. I froze. My breath stilled. It moved, without me.

The Hollow Wolf. Its shape rippled on the earth, its white eyes gleaming, its jaws snapping with hunger. It wasn’t just inside me anymore. It was peeling free, a beast made of nothing but darkness and rage.

The pack stumbled back, horror twisting their faces. Even Kael’s breath hitched, though his stance never faltered.

My knees buckled as I stared at it... ooh! At me... At what I was becoming. The Hollow Wolf turned its head, its glowing gaze locking on mine and it smiled.

The ground split with growls and the night was thick with terror. My heart screamed one thought louder than the chaos: If the Hollow Wolf no longer needs me to exist, then what am I? And if killing me won’t stop it… what will?

Lyra’s POV

“Don’t move, Lyra… It’s watching you.”

Kael’s voice was low, almost drowned out by the storm of growls around us, but I heard it. Felt it. His words crawled under my skin, heavier than the moonlight.

My eyes were locked on the thing that had peeled itself from me, my shadow come alive. The Hollow Wolf. It circled slowly, its body made of smoke and hunger, each step leaving the earth blackened beneath its paws. Its white eyes cut through the clearing like knives. It looked at me, not at Kael, not at my father, not at the Elders. Only me.

My chest heaved as its lips peeled back into a grin that wasn’t a grin, its jaw stretching too wide, teeth glinting like shards of bone. My blood turned to ice.

The pack backed away, pressing together in a circle that looked more like a cage. Some were half-shifted, their claws scraping the earth. Others whispered prayers under their breath.

The Elder raised her staff, her voice hard as stone. “The prophecy is awake. The Hollow Wolf walks. The Blood Oath must be carried out... tonight.”

“No!” my father barked, his blade flashing as he held it up. “It should be ended now. She should be ended now.”

His voice cracked like a whip through the night, and wolves howled in agreement.

But the Elder’s gaze cut to him, sharp as broken glass. “Silence, Dorian Vale. You dare speak of ending her, when it was you who forged the Oathblade?”

The ground dropped from under me. My father froze. My breath snagged.

The Elder’s words sank into the clearing like poison. “Do not think your secrets are hidden from us. The runes that the blade carries are of your own hand. Years ago, before the girl was even of age, you sought the means to kill her.”

My knees almost gave. The crowd rippled with shock, voices hissing like snakes. I searched my father’s face, desperate for denial, for anything but truth. But he said nothing.

He had made the blade himself. He had made the blade that was meant for my heart.

“You… you planned this,” I whispered, my voice tearing at the edges. “From the very beginning, you planned to kill me.”

His jaw clenched, his silence louder than any words. Something inside me snapped. The little hope I had clung to burned away. I wasn’t his daughter. I was his curse to manage and his mistake to erase.

The Hollow Wolf let out a sound that wasn’t quite a growl and wasn’t quite a laugh. It paced closer and I felt it inside me, tugging at the thread of my soul, as though it was mocking me.

Rowan’s voice split the air, eager and venomous. “You hear it! You see it! She isn’t one of us; she never was. If Kael kills her, maybe the curse dies with her!”

The pack roared, caught in his frenzy. “Kill her! End it!”

The Elder’s staff struck the ground, the noise silencing the madness. “The law has been spoken. The Blood Oath trial will decide her fate.”

Her words dropped like stones. Trial by combat or execution. The same law that had slaughtered cursed bloodlines before me. I stood frozen, my claws biting into my palms, when Kael moved. He stepped forward, his voice a blade slicing through the chaos. “I will face her.”

The clearing erupted. Gasps, shouts and snarls. My chest hollowed out. “What?” I choked. Kael didn’t look at me. His gaze was fixed on the Elder, his face carved from shadow and fire. “If she is the Hollow Wolf, I am sworn to kill her. If she is not, then the bond binds us. Either way, prophecy is fulfilled.”

My breath shattered. Bound to him… or buried by him. The Elder’s eyes narrowed, studying him, then me. “So it is written,” she intoned. “So it shall be done.”

The pack howled, the sound curdling the night air. Kael turned, his black eyes catching mine. For a heartbeat, something flickered there, not cruelty and not mockery. Something darker, something I couldn’t name.

“Prepare yourself,” he murmured, low enough only I could hear.

I couldn’t breathe. My father’s silence strangled me, Rowan’s grin burned into me and Eira’s tears stung like fire. The world was folding in, walls closing, shadows pressing.

The trial would kill me. Either Kael would, or the pack would, or the Hollow Wolf would tear free and finish the job itself.

I stumbled back into the trees, my chest heaving. I needed air, I needed to run, but he followed me.

Kael’s hand caught my wrist, spinning me to face him. His grip was strong and unshakable, but his voice was low and rough. “Listen to me.”

I bared my teeth. “Why? So you can tell me how you’ll slit my throat in front of everyone?” His jaw tightened. “If I wanted to kill you, Vale, you’d already be bleeding at my feet.”

“Then what do you want from me?” I spat.

For the first time, he hesitated. He glanced back toward the clearing, then back to me. His hand loosened on my wrist, but he didn’t let go. “You can’t win this trial. Not the way they want you to. The pack is against you. Your father is against you. Even your friend…” He paused, his lip curling slightly. “Even she has betrayed you.”

The words struck, sharper than any blade. Kael’s eyes locked on mine, hard as iron. “So I’ll give you a choice. Trust me, and I’ll make sure you live.”

My breath caught. “Trust you? You just claimed me like I was some prize to steal. You said you would kill me if I lost control.”

“And I meant it,” he said, voice flat. “But I won’t let them tear you apart like animals. If you let me, I’ll fake your defeat. I’ll claim you fully. Then the trial ends. The pack can’t touch you without declaring war.”

I stared at him, my pulse pounding. My heart twisted between rage and something else, something I didn’t want to feel.

“And if I say no?” I asked.

His dark gaze didn’t waver. “Then you bleed.” My throat tightened. His offer wasn’t mercy. It was chains, but chains were better than a grave.

I hated him... Like, I hated myself more for even considering it.

“Why?” I whispered. “Why help me?”

His jaw clenched, something raw flickering in his eyes. “Because if anyone is going to end you, Lyra Vale, it won’t be them. It’ll be me.”

The words slashed me open, but before I could answer, the Elder’s voice thundered across the clearing. “The trial begins!” Torches blazed, flames climbing higher and shadows stretching long. The pack gathered in a wide circle, their faces masks of hunger and hate. My father stood at the front, with Oathblade glinting in his grip. Eira stood behind him, her hands trembling, her lips pale.

The Hollow Wolf slithered back into my skin, sinking into me like tar. My veins burned and my body shook. It was waiting for blood.

Kael stepped into the circle opposite me; his eyes were unreadable, while his every move was precise. The Elder raised her staff, her voice echoing through the forest. “Let the cursed one be judged!”

The air thickened and the silence was crushing. My claws flexed, my breath was sharp and my heart was a war drum.

Kael lunged, a blur of motion and in the instant his claws slashed near my throat, his mouth brushed my ear.

“Survive this, Lyra,” he whispered, voice fierce, “and I’ll give you the truth your father never will.”

His body crashed against mine, claws meeting claws, sparks flying as the pack roared around us. The trial had begun and my fate had never been more tangled.

Beneath the Blood Moon, power surged through every strike, every desperate breath. The ground shook beneath my feet, claws raking soil, sparks of silver flashing in the shadows. My lungs burned; my pulse was a war drum that would not quiet.

Then the voice came again, not my father’s, but the Elder’s. It thundered through the clearing, older than time, soaked in judgment and finality. My skin prickled, every instinct urging me to run, though there was nowhere left to go.

“Again... let the cursed one be judged!”

The world stilled. Warriors froze; even the forest seemed to hold its breath and then all eyes, every single accusing and piercing gaze, turned to me.

Air ripped into my chest as I staggered back, my heart thrashing against my ribs like it could claw its way free. My hands shook, not with fear alone, but with something darker, something I’d spent my whole life trying to cage.

Why me? Why now? The truth coiled like a serpent in my gut: I had already been marked. No matter how hard I fought, no matter who stood beside me, I was already bound.

And the question that burned sharper than the blade at my throat: Would Kael truly save me… Or had I just stepped into another trap, one I could never escape?

Kael’s POV

"She isn’t fighting me. She’s fighting herself."

That was the first thought that tore through me as Lyra lunged, claws flashing under the crimson moon. Her strikes were wild and untamed, each one fueled by rage and something darker crouching inside her. When my claws met hers, sparks flew through the air, but I wasn’t testing her strength; I was testing her control and gods, she was losing it.

The Hollow Wolf flickered in her every movement, in the way her shadow stretched across the earth and snapped at me even when her body hesitated. It circled her like a second skin, made of smoke and hunger, pulling her deeper with every strike.

The pack howled around us, a cage of voices and every growl demanded her blood. The elders stood like stone pillars, their gazes sharp and unblinking. I could feel her father, Dorian Vale’s eyes burning into my back, the Oathblade in his grip like a second heartbeat.

He wanted me to do his work for him and to equally finish the curse he had been waiting eighteen years to erase.

But I wasn’t his blade and I wasn’t his hand. She was mine. Lyra roared and leaped, her claws catching my shoulder, raking across her skin and muscles. Pain flared, hot and sharp, but I twisted, slamming her into the dirt. My hand pinned her throat, claws digging just enough to remind her I could end it now.

“Control it,” I hissed in her ear. “Fight me, not it.”

Her eyes burned white, hollow and endless and for a heartbeat, I thought she was gone, swallowed by the shadow. Then she snarled, while her body arched, throwing me off with a force that wasn’t hers alone. I rolled across the dirt and came up on my feet with my chest heaving. The Hollow Wolf grinned through her face.

“She can’t hear you,” Rowan shouted from the crowd, his voice slick with triumph. “She’s already lost!”

The pack cheered him, a chorus of hate. Kill her, tear her apart and end it now, but I wasn’t watching them; instead, I was watching her.

Lyra’s breath came ragged, her claws trembling as if she was fighting something inside her own bones. For an instant, her gaze flickered, amber wolf eyes beneath the white glow and I knew she was still there.

“Lyra,” I said, low and sharp. “Listen to me. You’re not its puppet unless you let it be.”

Her lips peeled back, a growl tearing from her chest. Then, a voice cut through the chaos. “Stay back! Let me help her!” The witch Eira stumbled forward from the crowd, with her hands raised and her braid falling loose around her pale face. She clutched something small and silver, a charm etched with runes.

My stomach dropped; it was not a charm of protection nor a spell of healing, but a binding sigil.

“No,” I snarled, but it was too late. The runes flared and Lyra’s body convulsed.

Her scream shredded the night. As the pack gasped, some fell back in awe, while others were laughing at the sight of their “cursed Alpha’s daughter” writhing in the dirt. Lyra’s claws gouged the earth, her body jerking as the charm tightened invisible chains around her.

“Stop it!” I roared, spinning on Eira. My claws were bared, while my voice thundered. “That’s not saving her; that’s binding her!” The crowd erupted as confusion tore through their ranks. Whispers hissed like snakes: Binding? Witches? Betrayal? Eira froze, with guilt slashing across her face and her lips parting in silent denial, but the truth was written in the way her hands shook and in the fear that flashed across her eyes when I named what she had done.

Lyra’s gaze found her and the burning through the agony and the betrayal in her eyes was worse than any wound.

“You knew,” Lyra choked, her voice broken, raw. “You knew what I was.”

Her friend’s tears spilled, but Lyra’s howl drowned them out, a sound thick with rage and heartbreak.

That was when Rowan moved. The Oathblade spun through the air, silver runes gleaming as it landed between us, burying itself in the dirt with a hiss of smoke.

“Use it!” Rowan shouted at me, his grin wide and wild. “Finish it now, Blackthorn! Kill her and save us all!”

The pack roared, voices rising and demanding blood. The silver runes burned as the blade was humming with power, waiting for me to pick it up, but I didn’t.

I stared at it, then back at Rowan, as my lip curled into a snarl. “No.”

The clearing stilled. “No one tells me when to end her,” I said, my voice cutting like steel. “If she dies, it won’t be by your command or your father’s or the pack’s, but it will be by mine alone.”

Gasps echoed as the pack recoiled, some in rage, while others in fear. Dorian Vale’s face twisted in fury, but he said nothing.

Lyra’s chest heaved, her claws digging into the ground, her eyes flickering again between white and amber. I could see her fighting and clawing her way back from the edge.

I stepped closer, lowering my voice so only she could hear. “Fight me, Lyra and not it. Show them you’re still you.”

She bared her teeth, her whole body trembling for a heartbeat. I thought she’d lunge and tear my throat out in front of them all, but then, her claws slashed toward me and stopped a breath from my skin. It was her control, not the shadow’s, but seriously hers.

The elders stirred, as murmurs were rippling through them, proof... But before judgment could fall, the ground split open. The Hollow Wolf erupted out of her, no longer a shadow but a beast of its own. Twice the size of any wolf, its body was smoke and fire, its eyes white voids that burned like suns. Its howl split the night, shaking the earth and rattling bones.

The pack screamed and scattered, some shifting fully into wolves, while others retreated in terror. Immediately, the Elders shouted, their staffs glowing, but even their power trembled under the monster’s presence.

Lyra collapsed, gasping, her human body pale and trembling as though it had been gutted. I grabbed her, dragging her back as the Hollow Wolf lunged, tearing through the circle. Warriors screamed as claws raked across flesh, as fire spilled from its jaws.

It wasn’t looking at them at all, not really. It was looking at her, always at her.

The mate bond seared, pulling me tighter to her even as death tore around us. My blood roared as I shielded her, my claws flashing against shadows that I couldn’t cut and then I knew.

"The prophecy was wrong. She wasn’t the Hollow Wolf."

She was its cage. The beast ripped through the clearing, the pack’s howls drowned by fire and shadow. Lyra’s body trembled in my arms and she voiced a broken whisper against my chest.

“Kael… make it stop…”

But how do you stop a monster that was never hers to control?