The walk back to the stronghold was filled with silence, tension simmering between the group. Adrian carried Lyra carefully, her fragile state making every step feel like a countdown.
Finally, Draven broke the silence, his voice heavy. “We don’t have much time.”
Isla rounded on him, her silver eyes blazing. “You’re not seriously thinking about going through with this.”
Draven set his jaw. “What choice do we have?”
Adrian looked between them, his patience fraying. “What exactly are you talking about?”
Draven hesitated, his voice grim. “Cassian. He’s the Alpha who took over Malrik’s pack after his death. He’s strong, ruthless—and capable of forming the bond Lyra needs.”
Adrian’s grip on Lyra tightened. “You can’t be serious. You’re just going to hand her over to him?”
“It’s not about handing her over,” Draven shot back. “It’s about saving her life. Cassian has the strength to stabilize her.”
Isla shook her head, her voice trembling with frustration. “He’s a brute, Draven. A savage who fought his way to the top through blood and fear. You think he’s going to care about Lyra?”
“He doesn’t have to care,” Draven said. “He just has to bond with her.”
Adrian stepped in front of Draven, his anger barely contained. “And if he hurts her? If he uses her?”
Draven met his glare without flinching. “Then we stop him. But without him, she doesn’t have a chance.”
Adrian’s jaw clenched as he looked down at Lyra’s pale face. The idea of someone like Cassian being near her made his blood boil, but he couldn’t ignore the witch’s words.
Isla’s voice softened, filled with anguish. “She deserves more than this. She deserves someone who loves her.”
Draven’s shoulders sagged. “She deserves to live.”
The stronghold loomed ahead, its gates a reminder of the harsh reality waiting for them. Adrian’s mind raced with doubts, but one thought crystallized in his resolve: If Cassian lays a hand on her, I’ll make him regret it.
***
The heavy doors of the stronghold creaked open, and a hush fell over the hall. All eyes turned to the figure stepping inside—a towering man with amber eyes that seemed to cut through the dim light.
Cassian “Scar” Drayden had arrived, his reputation preceding him as a ruthless warrior who had clawed his way to the top of Malrik’s pack. His jagged scars, carved into his muscular frame, were like a roadmap of his violent ascent to power.
Isla stood near the back of the room, her hand tightening into a fist. She leaned toward Draven, her voice low and urgent. “This is the man you think will save our daughter? He’s barely more than a brute.”
Draven kept his expression calm but spoke firmly. “Cassian is more than that. He has strength, cunning, and the loyalty of his pack. Lyra needs someone like him to anchor her powers and survive.”
Cassian’s sharp gaze swept across the room before landing on the bed where Lyra lay unconscious. His lips curled slightly in something that might have been disdain—or disapproval. He took a slow step forward, his boots echoing against the stone floor, and crossed his arms over his chest.
“So, this is her?” he said, his deep voice carrying easily through the hall. “The White Wolf’s daughter. Doesn’t look like much to me.”
Adrian took a step forward from the shadows, his crimson eyes narrowing with fury, but Isla stopped him with a sharp gesture. She moved forward herself, standing squarely in Cassian’s path. “You will not speak about my daughter like that,” she said, her voice like steel. “You may have been brought here to help her, but you are not irreplaceable.”
Cassian tilted his head, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Let’s not pretend you have better options. You wouldn’t have called me otherwise.”
Draven interjected, stepping between them to diffuse the rising hostility. “Cassian,” he said, his tone firm, “Lyra is not just any wolf. Her survival is key to our fight against the Vampire King. If she dies, we all lose. She’s more than your ambitions—she’s the future of our kind.”
Cassian held Draven’s gaze for a long moment, then shrugged. “Fine,” he muttered, striding toward Lyra’s bed. He leaned down slightly, his sharp features studying her pale face. “But I don’t bond with weakness. If she can’t survive, that’s not my fault.”
Adrian clenched his fists, every fiber of his being screaming to intervene, but Isla shot him a warning look. Cassian’s smirk deepened as he glanced at Adrian, as if daring him to make a move.
“This is going to be interesting,” Cassian muttered, standing straight again. “Let’s get started.”