ALPHA’S RUIN

Chapter One – The Caged Wolf

Lyra sat in the cold darkness of her cell, her back resting against the damp stone wall. The chains on her wrists and ankles were heavy, their metal biting into her skin. She had long stopped feeling the pain.

The fortress was quiet at this hour. The guards outside her cell had likely fallen asleep, their confidence making them careless.

They thought she was harmless.

They thought she was broken.

Lyra had spent years in this prison, watching, listening, learning. She had memorized the shifts of the guards, the way their boots echoed through the halls. She knew which ones were lazy, which ones were cruel, and which ones could be broken.

Jaren was one of them.

She had seen the hesitation in his eyes earlier when he dropped off her meal. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. A small crack in the armor of her captors.

She didn’t need strength to escape.

She needed patience.

The chains rattled slightly as she shifted. Above her, a small square window let in a sliver of moonlight, barely enough to see by. But Lyra didn’t need to see. She knew every inch of this cell, every crack in the walls.

She had been here for too long.

Too long waiting.

Too long pretending.

But soon… soon the moment to strike would come.

She just had to be ready.

The sound of boots marching down the corridor made Lyra open her eyes.

It was time.

She didn’t react when the heavy iron door swung open, revealing two guards.

"Get up," one of them barked. "The Alpha wants to see you."

Lyra moved slowly, keeping her expression blank. She let them pull her to her feet, her chains clinking as she walked.

They led her through the stone corridors of the fortress, past flickering torches and the faint scent of burning wood. The halls were just as she remembered—cold, lifeless, and reeking of fear.

And then, they reached the great hall.

The doors opened, revealing a massive chamber lit by golden chandeliers. A long wooden table stretched across the center, empty for now. At the far end, seated on a throne of black iron, was him.

Alpha Darius.

He looked exactly as she remembered. Broad shoulders, dark piercing eyes, and a cruel smirk that made her stomach twist. His presence filled the room, his sheer power making the air feel heavier.

"Well, well," Darius mused, his deep voice carrying across the hall. "My little prisoner still breathes."

Lyra kept her head down, letting her hair fall over her face. She had learned long ago that meeting his gaze directly would only earn her pain.

"You’ve been rotting in that cell for years," he continued, tapping his fingers against the armrest. "Do you still remember how to speak?"

Lyra swallowed. Stay small. Stay weak. Stay unnoticed.

"Yes, Alpha," she whispered.

Darius chuckled. "Good. You’ve learned." He leaned forward, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "I have a task for you."

She remained silent, waiting.

"There is a gathering in two nights," he said. "Alphas from across the region will be here, and I require… entertainment."

A sick feeling coiled in her stomach, but she kept her expression blank.

"You will serve at the gathering," Darius continued. "Pour wine, keep your head down, and do exactly as you are told." His smirk widened. "It will be nice for you to be useful for once."

Lyra bit the inside of her cheek. This was a test. He wanted to see if she was still obedient, still afraid.

She forced herself to nod. "Yes, Alpha."

His smirk faded. "Look at me."

For the first time, Lyra lifted her eyes.

It took everything in her not to flinch under his piercing gaze.

"You are alive because I allow it," he murmured, his voice dropping to something far more dangerous. "Do not forget that."

"I won’t," she whispered.

He studied her for a long moment before leaning back in his chair.

"Take her back," he ordered. "Make sure she is… presentable for the gathering."

The guards grabbed her arms and pulled her away. As they dragged her back to her cell, Lyra allowed herself one small, hidden thought.

He thinks I am nothing. He has no idea what I am planning.

This was her chance.

At the gathering, there would be powerful Alphas. Enemies. Men who hated Darius.

And Lyra needed to find them.

The night of the gathering came quickly.

Lyra was given a bath, a fresh dress—nothing luxurious, just a simple black gown that made her look almost human again. Her hair was brushed out, and the guards even removed the shackles from her wrists.

It was strange to feel so light without them.

The great hall was alive with noise, filled with warriors and Alphas from different packs. The scent of roasted meat, wine, and burning wood filled the air. The fire in the massive stone hearth crackled loudly, casting long shadows across the walls.

Lyra moved silently through the room, carrying a tray of goblets filled with dark red wine.

No one paid her any attention.

They never did.

As she poured wine into goblets, her ears picked up bits and pieces of conversation. Talks of territory disputes, rogue attacks, shifting alliances.

Then—something that made her freeze.

Two men were speaking in hushed voices near the corner of the room, their backs turned to the crowd. She recognized them—Alpha Varen and Alpha Gideon. Both had once been allies of Darius.

Both had suffered under his rule.

Lyra kept her head down, moving closer, pretending to pour wine.

“… He’s slipping,” one of them muttered. “The fear he once held over us is fading.”

“He’s desperate,” the other agreed. “You saw how he looked tonight. He knows we’re watching.”

A pause.

Then, lower—almost too quiet to hear.

“If we strike soon, he won’t survive it.”

Lyra’s fingers tightened around the tray.

This was it.

Proof that Darius’ allies wanted him dead.

Now, she had to find a way to speak to them. To make them see that she could help.

Without raising suspicion.

Without making a mistake.

Her heart pounded as she moved away, her mind racing.

This was no longer about revenge.

This was about bringing Darius to his knees.

And Lyra was finally close enough to do it.

CHAPTER TWO

Chapter Two – The First Move

Lyra moved carefully through the grand hall, balancing the tray in her hands as she wove between the warriors and Alphas. Her heart pounded in her chest, but her face remained calm. She couldn’t afford mistakes. Not now.

She had just overheard exactly what she needed—Alpha Varen and Alpha Gideon wanted Darius dead.

But knowing wasn’t enough.

She had to act.

She had to get close to them.

Darius still thought she was nothing—a caged wolf too broken to bite. That belief was her greatest weapon.

Now, she had to use it.

Varen and Gideon stood near the edge of the hall, their voices lower now, more cautious. They weren’t fools. They knew a place like this was filled with ears waiting to catch whispers of betrayal.

Lyra couldn’t just walk up to them. That would be suicide.

Instead, she needed to be subtle.

She took a deep breath and adjusted the tray in her hands, making her way toward them. Not too fast. Not too eager. Just another servant doing her job.

She reached them just as Gideon turned slightly, his goblet nearly empty.

"More wine, Alpha?" she murmured, keeping her voice low and respectful.

He barely glanced at her, just gave a short nod.

Perfect.

She poured the dark liquid into his goblet, her hands steady despite the storm inside her. As she did, she let her fingers barely brush against his. Just for a second. Just enough for him to notice her.

And then, as she pulled away, she whispered—so softly it was almost lost in the noise of the hall.

"Not all of Darius’ prisoners are loyal."

Then she was gone.

She turned quickly, moving away before either of them could react. She could feel their eyes on her back. Shocked. Suspicious. Thinking.

She didn’t look back.

But she had planted the seed.

Now, she had to wait and see if it would grow

Lyra forced herself to keep serving, to keep her movements smooth and natural. But her entire body was tense. She had just taken the biggest risk of her life.

If Varen and Gideon ignored her? If they told Darius what she had said?

She would be dead by morning.

She stole a glance across the hall, her eyes scanning the crowd.

Darius sat at the head of the room, laughing loudly as he spoke with another Alpha. But Lyra knew him too well. Even while drinking and boasting, he was always watching.

He ruled through fear. And fear made men paranoid.

If he so much as suspected she was up to something…

No. She pushed the thought away. She had to focus.

After what felt like forever, she finally caught sight of Gideon’s eyes.

He was looking at her.

Expression unreadable.

Watching.

And then, he nodded.

Barely a movement.

But it was enough.

A Secret Meeting

Lyra didn’t sleep that night.

She sat awake in her cell, her body still, her mind racing.

Gideon had noticed her. That meant she had a chance.

But she couldn’t rush this. Trust wasn’t given easily in a world like theirs.

She needed to be smart.

The next night, when she was summoned again to serve, she kept her movements careful. Subtle. Waiting for something.

And finally, it came.

As she carried a tray of empty goblets toward the kitchen, a low voice reached her ear.

"Outside. Midnight. The east tower."

Then the man was gone.

Lyra kept walking, heart hammering against her ribs.

This was it.

She was finally getting close.

And once she had their trust…

Darius would fall.

Lyra kept her face neutral as she walked back toward the kitchen. The moment she had been waiting for had come—Gideon had given her a meeting place. Midnight. The east tower.

She should have felt relieved. Excited. But instead, her skin prickled with unease.

Something felt off.

She glanced toward the grand table where Darius sat. He was still drinking, laughing with the other Alphas, but… his posture was different now. Tighter.

And his eyes—

His dark, cold eyes were on her.

Watching.

Did he notice?

No. She had been careful. She had said only a few words. A whisper. A brush of fingers. Darius couldn’t have heard. He couldn’t know.

But he was still staring.

Lyra forced herself to keep moving.

She placed the empty tray down and picked up another, this one filled with more wine. She focused on her breathing, staying calm, staying invisible.

You’re nothing to him. Just a ghost in his fortress.

Then—

"Come here."

Her stomach twisted.

The words were low, sharp, and meant for her.

Slowly, she turned.

Darius sat at the table, his fingers lazily tracing the rim of his goblet. His dark eyes locked onto hers, unreadable, calculating.

The hall was still filled with noise, warriors drinking, Alphas speaking in hushed voices. But suddenly, it felt like there was no one else in the room.

Just her.

And the monster who had ruined her life.

Lyra stepped forward, keeping her head slightly bowed. "Alpha?"

Darius tilted his head. "I find it interesting," he mused, swirling the wine in his cup, "how after all these years, you still know your place."

She stayed silent. She knew this game.

Darius studied her. Then, in one sharp movement, he grabbed her wrist.

Lyra froze.

The touch wasn’t painful, but it was firm. Testing.

He’s watching for a reaction.

"You’ve been quiet tonight," he murmured, his grip tightening just slightly. "Is something on your mind?"

Her heart pounded, but she forced herself to remain still.

"Nothing, Alpha," she said softly.

A slow smirk spread across his lips. He let go of her wrist, leaning back in his chair.

"Good."

Then he lifted his goblet toward her.

"Pour me another drink."

Lyra obeyed without hesitation, filling the cup with smooth, practiced movements.

But inside, her mind was screaming.

Darius was suspicious.

Maybe he hadn’t heard anything. Maybe he hadn’t seen anything.

But he was Darius.

He ruled with fear. Paranoia was his nature.

And that meant he was already watching her.

Too closely.

Lyra needed to be even more careful now.

One wrong step…

And she wouldn’t make it to midnight.

She shove her head in fear as she sat there in deep thoughts

CHAPTER THREE

Chapter Three – A Dangerous Gamble

Lyra lay still on the cold stone floor of her cell, listening.

The fortress was never completely silent. Even at night, there were footsteps in the corridors, warriors patrolling, the distant howls of wolves in the forest beyond the walls. But now, close to midnight, the sounds were fewer. Softer.

It was time.

She slowly sat up, careful not to make any sudden movements. Her pulse was steady, but her mind was sharp. She had one chance to do this. If she was caught sneaking out, there would be no second attempt.

She exhaled and moved toward the farthest corner of her cell. The heavy door was locked, as always. But Lyra had spent years studying every inch of this place. She knew its weaknesses.

And she knew its secrets.

She reached into a crack in the stone wall, fingers searching until she found what she needed—a small, thin metal pin. Stolen months ago from one of the fortress maids. It wasn’t much, but in the right hands, it was enough.

Lyra knelt by the door and inserted the pin into the lock.

Her hands worked quickly but carefully. She had no formal training, but desperation had made her resourceful. After a few tense moments, she heard it—a faint click.

She eased the door open just enough to slip through, then pressed it shut behind her.

The hallway was dimly lit by torches mounted on the walls. The air smelled of stone, damp earth, and the lingering scent of blood—a reminder of the fortress’s brutal history.

She kept close to the walls, her bare feet silent against the cold floor. She had mapped out this route in her mind over and over again. She knew which guards were the least alert, which corridors had the deepest shadows.

And she knew how to become invisible.

Every step was calculated. Every movement deliberate.

She moved through the fortress like a ghost.

When she reached the central hallway, she stopped. This was the most dangerous part. The main entrance was always guarded, and slipping past them would be impossible.

But Lyra had another way.

She turned left, heading toward the eastern side of the fortress. Here, the walls weren’t as thick, and the defenses weren’t as strong—because no one had ever escaped from this place.

No one but her.

She reached a narrow window, just big enough for her to squeeze through. It overlooked the rocky side of the fortress, a dangerous drop into the trees below.

Lyra climbed onto the ledge, gripping the cold stone tightly. The wind hit her immediately, chilling her to the bone. She took a deep breath and swung herself over the edge.

Her fingers found the cracks in the stone. She climbed.

Slowly, carefully, she lowered herself down the side of the fortress, using the uneven surface to find her footing.

She had done this before.

She knew which stones were loose. She knew where to place her weight.

She moved fast, her heart pounding as she reached the bottom and dropped quietly into the shadows.

She didn’t stop.

She ran.

The Meeting with the Enemy

The forest was dark, the towering trees blocking out what little moonlight there was. Lyra moved swiftly, weaving between the trunks, stepping over roots and fallen branches.

She had to reach the east tower.

She had to prove she was serious.

By the time she arrived, she could already sense them. She wasn’t the only one skilled in silence. Varen and Gideon were already waiting in the clearing, their sharp eyes scanning the darkness.

Lyra slowed her steps, making sure they saw her approach. No sudden movements. She needed them to listen, not to see her as a threat.

Varen was the first to speak. "You’re bold to come alone."

Lyra kept her expression unreadable. "If I weren’t bold, I wouldn’t have survived this long."

Gideon crossed his arms. He was larger than Varen, his presence more intimidating, but she wasn’t afraid of him. She had lived with monsters worse than him.

"You said not all of Darius’ prisoners are loyal," Gideon said. His voice was skeptical. Testing. "Why should we believe you?"

Lyra didn’t hesitate. "Because I want the same thing you do."

Varen let out a short laugh. "Do you? And what exactly do you think we want?"

"To destroy him."

The words hung in the air. Heavy. Dangerous.

Gideon’s expression didn’t change, but Lyra saw the flicker of interest in his eyes.

"You don’t just want him dead," she continued. "You want his empire to crumble. You want his warriors to turn against him. You want him ruined."

Varen stepped closer, studying her. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

Lyra met his gaze. "By breaking him from within."

Gideon exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "It’s a nice idea. But talk means nothing. We need proof."

Lyra had expected this.

"I can give you proof," she said. "But I need time."

Varen narrowed his eyes. "Time for what?"

"To make his own warriors doubt him."

She saw the way that caught their attention. Doubt was a slow poison. One that spread before anyone noticed it was there.

"Darius rules with fear," she continued. "But fear isn’t loyalty. If I can plant the right doubts, his warriors will start questioning him. And when the time is right, they will turn."

Gideon exchanged a glance with Varen.

"If you can do that," Gideon said, "then maybe we’ll talk again."

Lyra nodded. It was enough. For now.

But she wasn’t finished.

The First Spark

She couldn’t just rely on Gideon and Varen. She needed to spread the cracks herself.

By the time she returned to the fortress, slipping back inside undetected, she already had a plan.

And it started with Darius’ own men.

The next day, as she moved through the halls, she kept an ear open for conversations. She listened. She watched.

And then she found her target.

Marcus.

A warrior. A strong one. But not one of Darius’ favorites.

She had seen the way Darius treated him. Like he was useful—but not important. Not trusted.

She approached carefully, pretending to carry out her usual duties. And when she passed him, she let her words slip out—just loud enough for him to hear.

"It’s strange, isn’t it?" she murmured, mostly to herself. "All these years of loyalty, and yet some are still treated like nothing."

Marcus stiffened. He turned, his expression guarded. "What did you say?"

Lyra shook her head, lowering her gaze. "Nothing. Just a thought."

Then she walked away.

She didn’t need to say more.

She had planted the doubt.

And doubts had a way of growing.

The Hidden Message

Lyra wasn’t done.

She needed to set the next step in motion—contacting one of Darius’ rival Alphas.

That night, she slipped out of her cell again. This time, she carried a small piece of parchment, a single message written in careful, anonymous words:

There are cracks in Darius’ fortress. His warriors are not as loyal as they seem. If you seek to weaken him, look within.

She made sure it was vague. If it was intercepted, it wouldn’t point directly to her.

Then, she placed it exactly where she knew it would be found—inside a merchant’s supply bag.

By morning, it would be on its way.

And the first spark of rebellion would be spreading.

CHAPTER FOUR

Chapter Four – The First Cracks

Marcus sat in the training yard, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword. The morning drills were over, but he remained, replaying Lyra’s words in his mind.

"All these years of loyalty, and yet some are still treated like nothing."

He hadn’t wanted to think about it. Hadn’t wanted to believe it.

But the more he tried to push it aside, the more it clawed at him.

Because it was true.

He had bled for this pack. Fought in Darius’ wars. Obeyed every order, no matter how brutal.

And yet, where was his reward?

Nowhere.

Darius never looked at him the way he looked at his favorites. Never gave him the same trust.

Marcus had seen warriors die for Darius, expecting loyalty in return. They got nothing.

And suddenly, Marcus felt sick.

He had never questioned Darius before. But now, a single doubt had taken root.

And it was growing.

Darius sat in his chambers, fingers tapping against the wooden table.

Something was wrong.

The fortress had a pulse—a rhythm. He could always sense when things were in order, when his warriors were settled.

Now, that pulse felt offbeat.

He had seen it in their eyes. A shift. A hesitation that hadn’t been there before.

Someone was stirring trouble.

His eyes narrowed. He had ruled with fear for years. No one had dared to cross him.

And yet, something was changing.

Someone was trying to poison his pack from within.

He would find them. And when he did, there would be blood.

Lyra moved through the fortress with purpose.

Darius was growing suspicious—she could feel it. He had always been paranoid, but now it was worse.

Which meant she had to move faster.

She needed something solid. Something that would make even his most loyal warriors question him.

So she went searching.

And then, one night, she found it.

A hidden ledger.

She had snuck into his private study before, careful never to touch anything that would leave a trace. But tonight, she risked more.

She opened a locked drawer and pulled out the old, worn book. The moment she flipped through the pages, her breath caught.

Darius had made a deal.

Not just any deal—a secret alliance with an enemy pack.

One that would put his own warriors at risk.

If his pack ever saw this—if they knew—

He would be finished.

Lyra smiled.

Darius’ Beta, Rowan, was one of the few men he actually trusted. A loyal soldier. A brutal enforcer.

Which meant he was the perfect pawn.

Lyra was careful. Subtle. She planted whispers in the right ears, nudging warriors to question Rowan’s recent actions.

"He’s been meeting privately with outsiders."

"Darius keeps secrets, but maybe Rowan keeps more."

"If anyone knew Darius’ weaknesses, it would be his Beta."

The words spread.

Then, Lyra did the final push.

She carefully placed a forged letter in Darius’ study—one that made it look like Rowan was planning to betray him.

By the time Darius found it, his paranoia had already reached dangerous levels.

And when he confronted Rowan—there was no mercy.

The entire pack gathered. They were used to Darius’ punishments, but this—this was different.

Rowan knelt before them, his hands bound, his face twisted with confusion and rage.

"Darius, I would never—"

"Silence." Darius’ voice was cold. Final.

He lifted his sword. "I do not tolerate betrayal."

There was no trial. No chance to explain.

Darius brought the blade down.

Blood stained the ground.

And his warriors watched.

Many looked away. Some whispered.

Because if Rowan could be killed so easily…

None of them were safe.

Darius’ Paranoia Grows

After Rowan’s execution, Darius changed.

He stopped trusting anyone.

He watched his warriors more closely, spoke less, and isolated himself in his chambers for hours at a time.

He changed the patrol schedules without warning. He ordered warriors to spy on each other.

He started seeing enemies everywhere.

And the more he pushed his warriors away…

The more they started to resent him.

The Final Stage Begins

Lyra was close now.

Everything was falling apart—just as she planned.

But she wasn’t done.

She forged one last letter—this time, one that made it look like Darius was planning to betray his own pack.

She placed it where it would be found.

And then—

She let the lie spread.

Darius’ warriors started whispering among themselves.

"Does he really see us as nothing more than tools?"

"Would he throw us away for power?"

"Maybe he already has."

And then—

The first warrior refused to kneel.

Then another.

Then another.

The rebellion had begun.

And Darius felt it.

The fortress was no longer silent.

Darius could feel the shift in the air.

Whispers. Uncertainty. Fear.

He had seen it in their eyes at Rowan’s execution. The way some of them looked away. The way others hesitated before kneeling.

And now, it had gotten worse.

The whispers had turned into defiance.

Someone was spreading poison through his pack. Someone wanted to see him fall.

He would not allow it

The first warrior to defy him was a young soldier named Eren.

Darius had ordered him to patrol the northern border, but Eren hesitated.

Just for a moment.

But Darius saw it.

And hesitation was the same as betrayal.

"You have doubts?" Darius asked, his voice calm.

Eren swallowed hard, his hands clenching into fists. "I—No, Alpha. I only meant—"

Darius didn’t let him finish.

With one swift motion, he grabbed Eren by the throat and slammed him against the stone wall. The force cracked something—maybe bone, maybe not. It didn’t matter.

"What did I say about obedience?" Darius growled.

Eren’s face turned red, his feet barely touching the ground. The warriors standing nearby did nothing.

Darius leaned in. "You think you can hesitate?" His grip tightened. "You think you can doubt me?"

Eren gasped, fingers clawing at Darius’ hand. His eyes pleaded for mercy.

Darius had none to give.

He drew his dagger and plunged it into Eren’s gut.

A sharp gasp. A shudder.

Darius twisted the blade.

Then he let Eren fall, his body crumpling to the ground in a pool of his own blood.

The warriors around them stood frozen.

Darius turned, his gaze sweeping over them. "Does anyone else doubt me?"

Silence.

Good.

CHAPTER FIVE

Chapter Five – The Fall of an Alpha

The fortress felt different.

Darius could sense it the moment he stepped into the training yard. The warriors moved in stiff, nervous patterns. Their eyes darted to the shadows, and their voices barely rose above whispers.

They were afraid.

Not just of him—of something unseen, something creeping beneath the surface.

Someone was poisoning them.

Someone was turning them against him.

And he knew exactly who to start with.

Darius Confronts Lyra

The cold stone walls of Lyra’s chamber seemed smaller than usual, the air heavier. She had seen Darius angry before, but tonight was different.

Tonight, he was desperate.

The door slammed open, the sound echoing through the room. Lyra didn’t flinch. She had been expecting him.

Darius stepped inside, his movements sharp, controlled—dangerous. His dark eyes locked onto her, searching for something beneath her calm expression.

"Who is it?" His voice was low, edged with fury.

Lyra tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Who is what?"

Darius moved fast. One second, he was across the room. The next, he had his hand wrapped around her throat, pinning her against the cold stone wall.

"Don’t play games with me, Lyra." His voice was a growl, his breath hot against her skin. "Someone is feeding my warriors lies. Someone is turning them against me."

She forced herself to meet his gaze, refusing to show fear. "And you think it’s me?"

His grip tightened. "I know it’s you."

Lyra coughed but didn’t struggle. She let her body go limp, forcing him to see the frail, beaten prisoner he had shaped her into.

She watched his face, looking for that flicker of doubt, the hesitation that would make him question himself.

It worked.

Darius’ grip loosened—just slightly.

"You think I have that kind of power?" she whispered, her voice hoarse. "After everything you did to me?"

For a moment, uncertainty flickered in his eyes.

Then he shoved her away.

She hit the ground hard, coughing, but inside—she smiled.

She had planted the seed.

Now, all she had to do was wait.

The fortress was dying.

Flames devoured the eastern walls, turning stone into molten rubble. The scent of blood and burning wood filled the air, thick and suffocating. Screams echoed through the night—warriors, servants, the wounded, the dying.

Lyra stood in the shadows, watching the empire that had once enslaved her fall apart.

Darius had lost control.

The pack was crumbling beneath his rule. The warriors he once commanded with an iron fist hesitated before obeying. Some had already abandoned him. Others had turned their blades against their own brothers.

This was what she had been waiting for.

This was the moment she had spent years creating.

The great Alpha stood at the center of the battlefield, his breath ragged, his body slick with blood—some his, most not.

His pack was fighting. Dying. And yet, the whispers of betrayal still clung to them.

Darius could feel it.

Even now, even as he fought to protect them, they no longer believed in him.

He saw it in their eyes.

Doubt.

His fury was a wildfire, burning through him as he cut down another enemy soldier. This was his pack. His land.

He would not let them take it from him.

But it wasn’t them, was it?

No.

It was her.

Lyra knew the moment he spotted her.

Darius turned slowly, his dark, furious eyes locking onto hers through the chaos. The battlefield around them blurred.

For a moment, there was only them.

Her heart hammered, but she didn’t move.

She had spent years waiting for this moment.

He took a step forward.

Then another.

And then he was running.

Lyra stood her ground.

Darius was faster, stronger. A beast fueled by fury and betrayal. But he was also wounded. Weakened. Desperate.

She could use that.

Darius lunged, his hands reaching for her, his expression twisted with rage.

Lyra’s breath hitched.

A knife—