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?

Eira’s POV

“I never wanted you to find out this way, Lyra…”

The words stayed in my throat, unspoken and burning, while the world fell apart around me.

The clearing was no longer a trial ground, but it was a battlefield. The Hollow Wolf tore through the circle like a storm made of teeth and fire. Warriors screamed as claws shredded flesh and even Alphas staggered back in fear.

The Blood Moon burned overhead, crimson light dripping down like poison and Lyra... my Lyra... lay crumpled in Kael’s arms, pale and shaking, her eyes flickering between human amber and that terrible white glow. Her gaze locked on me and I swear I felt her trust snap like glass under a hammer.

Her eyes said it all: You knew. So gods help me. She was right and I had known for years.

The weight of secrets in my past. When I was twelve, the coven marked me. I remember the smell of herbs burning in the Sanctum, the cold stone floor beneath my knees, and the sharp sting of a blade slicing my palm as I swore the blood oath.

“You will serve the witches,” they told me. “You will serve balance and when the Crimson Seer calls, you will obey.”

I thought it was just words and I equally thought it was an honor, but then, months ago, the Seer herself came to me.

I still remember the first time I saw her, robes the color of blood, eyes white and blind yet sharper than any blade. Her voice was both whisper and scream as she said, “The Hollow Wolf will rise and you will be the hand that keeps it chained.”

At first, I thought she meant protecting Lyra, but then she gave me the charms, the runes and the spells. Binding spells and chains disguised as shields and I obeyed because the Coven said if I didn’t, Lyra would die before her eighteenth year.

So yes, I had lied to her. Every “protection” I gave her was really a leash. Every smile I offered was laced with guilt and now she knew.

The Hollow Wolf snapped its jaws, white fire spilling from its maw. The pack scattered and howled, mixing with screams. The elders tried to raise their staffs, chanting, but the beast’s shadow lashed out, knocking them to the ground.

“Hold the line!” Rowan screamed, though his voice cracked as fear trembled in his throat. He shifted fully, his wolf form darting forward, only to be swatted aside like a rag doll.

Kael crouched low, dragging Lyra behind him, as his black eyes were locked on the beast. He was bleeding, his shoulder clawed open, but his stance never faltered.

“Get her out of here!” someone shouted.

“No,” Kael snapped, his voice sharp as steel. “If it wants her, then she stays with me.”

My stomach twisted because he was right. The Hollow Wolf wasn’t attacking them; it was circling back again and again, its white eyes fixed only on Lyra.

She wasn’t the monster. She was in the cage and the cage was breaking.

Here is to the memory of betrayal. Her eyes met mine across the chaos, wide and wet, filled with betrayal that cut deeper than claws.

“You knew,” she whispered, voice raw.

The words weren’t loud, but they struck me harder than any blow. I felt my chest cave, shame clawing through my ribs.

“I… I only wanted to protect you,” I stammered, even though I knew it was a lie. I hadn’t protected her; I had obeyed.

Kael’s snarl cut through the clearing. “Protect her?” He spat the words like venom. “You bound her. You’ve been working for the witches all along.”

The pack erupted in more whispers of witches, betrayal and cursed blood. Their stares turned sharper, suspicion spreading like wildfire.

I wanted to scream at him, at them, that it wasn’t like that. That I never wanted to hurt her and that I thought... stupidly, that I was saving her life by chaining her, but the words stuck in my throat, ashes and guilt. I see Lyra’s eyes never softened. A chill swept the clearing. Not from the Hollow Wolf. From the trees.

Shadows moved at the edge of the circle, slipping between the trunks. One by one, figures emerged, robes black as midnight, hoods drawn low. There come the witches and my coven. The pack howled in rage and fear, some shifting fully to charge, others stumbling back.

But the witches didn’t raise weapons. They raised their hands. Runes flared in the dirt, circling the Hollow Wolf. Instead of fighting it, their chants fed it, shadows thickening and fire burning hotter. The beast threw back its head and howled, its voice twined with their magic. My heart stopped.

“No…” I whispered.

The lead figure lowered her hood, with crimson robes and blind white eyes. The Crimson Seer smiled, lips thin, voice slicing through the night. “The cage has cracked. The beast will serve us now.”

Gasps rippled through the pack. Warriors faltered, and elders staggered. Even Kael froze, his jaw clenching as the Seer’s words hung heavy in the air and me? I felt the ground vanish beneath me.

All this time, I thought the Coven wanted to keep the Hollow Wolf suppressed, controlled and bound, but no. They had never planned to stop it. They wanted to own it.

The seer’s gaze, blind yet piercing, landed on me. “Child,” she whispered, her voice both gentle and cruel. “You have done well. You delivered her to us. Now step forward and finish what you began.”

The pack turned on me as one. Growls rose and teeth bared. My legs shook, while my breath was shallow. And Lyra… Lyra just stared, broken and betrayed, her face pale as bone.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “This isn’t what I wanted.”

The Seer tilted her head, her blind eyes glowing faintly white. “You swore to the Coven, and you swore to me. Do not falter now. The beast will rise, and through it, our people will reign.”

I looked at Lyra. At my best friend. My sister in everything but blood. She was trembling, her claws digging into Kael’s arm as he held her upright. Her lips were cracked, her voice hoarse, but I still heard her whisper, “Why, Eira?”

Why? Because I was weak, because I thought obedience was safety and because I had been a coward, too afraid to defy the witches who raised me.

Tears blurred my vision, hot and heavy. I raised my hands, power gathering and runes glowing along my skin.

Gasps erupted from the pack. Kael snarled, shielding Lyra.

“No!” he barked. “If you touch her again, I’ll tear you apart!”

My power surged, blue fire wrapping around my fingers as my heart hammered against my ribs and my body was torn in two.

The Seer’s voice pressed into my skull. “Choose, child. Us, or her.”

The Hollow Wolf reared back, its jaws snapping, while its fire spilled across the ground. Lyra screamed, clutching her chest as though the beast was tearing her from the inside and I knew I couldn’t stand still anymore.

I threw my hands forward and the spell burst from me, white-blue fire tearing across the clearing and striking toward the Hollow Wolf.

But the beast twisted and the light veered, arching straight toward Lyra instead. Immediately, her eyes widened and Kael lunged. The pack screamed and my soul shattered as the fire hit.

Did I just save her… or destroy her?