Eryon stood at the edge of the clearing, his body tense as conflicting emotions roiled within him. On one side was Lyra, her face streaked with tears, clutching her bleeding side where the artifact’s remnants had left jagged marks. Her silver eyes, so much like his, locked onto his with raw desperation. “Eryon,” she sobbed, her voice cracking. “Please, don’t do this. You’re my brother—we can fight her together. Whatever darkness she’s put in your head, we’ll undo it. We’ll fix this. Together.”
On the other side was Seraphine, her presence commanding and chilling. The silver-haired sorceress radiated power, her voice calm yet sharp. “Look at her,” Seraphine said, nodding toward Lyra. “Clinging to the past, to weakness. She’s blind to what you are, Eryon. They always have been. But I see you—I see the strength they fear.”
Her hand hovered in the air, an open invitation. Her silver eyes pierced into his, whispering promises that only he could hear.
Eryon’s claws flexed at his sides, his amber eyes shifting between Lyra and Seraphine. The wolf inside him growled low, sensing danger, but his heart ached at Lyra’s words. “I don’t know if I can come back from this,” he whispered, barely audible over the rustling leaves.
“You don’t need to come back,” Lyra said fiercely, stepping toward him despite her injuries. “You’re already here, Eryon. You’re still my brother. You’re still a part of us, of the pack. We can get through this, but only if you walk away from her now.”
Seraphine’s laughter was soft, mocking. “Do you hear her? Empty promises from someone who doesn’t understand what you’re becoming. You’ve felt it, haven’t you? The power surging in your veins, the strength they’ll never accept. Let me help you control it, Eryon. With me, you’ll never have to fear anything again.”
Eryon’s breathing grew labored, his claws digging into the dirt. His gaze darted between Lyra’s tear-streaked face and Seraphine’s calculating calm. “I just… I don’t know,” he murmured, his voice trembling.
Lyra reached out, gripping his wrist with all the strength she could muster. “Don’t let her take you, Eryon,” she said, her voice breaking. “You’re better than this. You’re my brother, and I love you. That hasn’t changed, and it never will.”
Seraphine stepped closer, her tone softening into something almost motherly. “And what has that love gotten you? Pain. Sacrifice. Look at her now—broken, bleeding. Is this what you want for the rest of your life? To keep protecting those who will never understand you?”
Eryon flinched at her words, the truth in them cutting deeper than any blade. His lips parted as if to respond, but before he could speak, a fierce roar shattered the tension.
Adrian stormed into the clearing, his blade gleaming faintly in the fading sunlight. His crimson eyes blazed with fury as he stepped between Eryon and Seraphine. “Get away from her!” he snarled, his voice echoing through the forest.
Seraphine’s smirk returned, her gaze flicking to Adrian with disdain. “Ah, the noble knight arrives. How predictable.”
With a casual wave of her hand, the ground beneath them erupted in chaos. Dark tendrils of magic curled and twisted, lashing out at Adrian as he leapt toward her.