Lyra stood in the center of the pack’s main hall, her resolve unwavering. “I’m going to Eryon,” she announced, her voice steady despite the anxiety gnawing at her.
Cassian immediately stepped forward. “You’re not going alone,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Adrian crossed his arms, his crimson eyes locked on Lyra. “Neither of us will let you.”
Lyra looked between them, her heart heavy. “The pack can’t be without an Alpha, Cassian,” she said softly. “You need to stay here.”
Cassian’s jaw tightened, his frustration evident. “And you think I’m just going to let Adrian take you?”
Adrian smirked faintly. “She’s safer with me than with anyone else.”
Cassian’s growl rumbled low in his throat, but Lyra raised a hand, silencing them. “I’ve made my decision. Adrian will come with me. We’ll disguise ourselves and avoid drawing attention. The King’s spies are everywhere.”
Cassian stepped closer, his voice dropping. “If anything happens to you…”
“It won’t,” Lyra said, cutting him off. “You trust me, don’t you?”
Cassian hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. “Come back to me, Luna.”
***
The journey was fraught with tension, the two of them keeping to the shadows and avoiding main roads. Lyra dyed her silver hair a deep chestnut, while Adrian darkened his own, their disguises barely enough to shield them from prying eyes.
At night, Adrian stood watch while Lyra slept. He stayed close, his protective instincts sharpened by the danger surrounding them. When Lyra stirred in her sleep, murmuring Eryon’s name, Adrian’s heart ached.
They finally reached Seraphine’s stronghold, its dark spires looming like a threat on the horizon. Misery met them at the gate, her crimson eyes narrowing as she recognized Lyra. “You shouldn’t have come here,” she said coldly, though a flicker of relief crossed her face.
“I’m here for Eryon,” Lyra said, her voice trembling with urgency.
Misery led them inside, where Seraphine awaited, her silver eyes piercing. “Your brother is in worse shape than you imagine,” Seraphine said, her voice devoid of emotion.
Lyra rushed past her, not caring for her cold demeanor. She found Eryon lying on a stone slab, his body pale and lifeless save for the faint rise and fall of his chest. Tears streamed down her face as she knelt beside him. “Is there a way to save him?” she asked desperately.
Misery exchanged a glance with Seraphine, who merely nodded. Misery stepped forward, her voice heavy. “There might be. But you’re not going to like it.”