As the group regrouped after the revelation, the tension between them was mounting.
Cassian paced near the edge of the clearing, his bare feet crunching on the frost-covered leaves. His movements were sharp, his frustration evident in every step.
“So now we’re not just saving him,” he growled, pointing at Eryon. “We’re protecting his family?”
Lyra clenched her fists at her sides, her voice sharp as she retorted, “He’s risking everything to fix this. He didn’t ask for what happened to him, Cassian. And he didn’t ask for Misery or the baby to be dragged into this.”
Cassian spun to face her, his amber eyes flaring.
“And yet here we are. Every decision he’s made has brought more danger to us, to you. You want to protect him so badly, but what happens when that child becomes the next target? When the Vampire King decides he’s not done with them?”
Lyra stepped closer, refusing to back down.
“Eryon is my brother. Misery is the mother of his child. And they are not a threat—they are family. We don’t turn our backs on family.”
Eryon stood a few paces behind them, his gaze unreadable as he watched the argument unfold. He could feel the weight of Cassian’s words, but it was Lyra’s unflinching defense that stirred something deep within him.
Cassian’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he reined in his temper.
“This doesn’t change the fact that we need that stone,” he said finally, his voice colder now. He turned to Eryon, his expression hard.
“You still need to fix this. You’re dangerous, Eryon. The corruption in you isn’t gone—it’s just dormant. If it flares again, it’s not just the pack you’ll destroy. It’s her.” He jerked his chin toward Lyra.
Eryon met his gaze head-on, his tone grim. “I know what’s at stake. You don’t have to remind me.”
Lyra stepped between them, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
“Enough. This isn’t about blame or grudges anymore. This is about survival—for all of us. We’ll get to the Moon Goddess Stone. We’ll fix this. And then we’ll figure out the rest.”
Cassian’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded curtly. “Then let’s finish this.”
Eryon’s resolve solidified as he turned toward the path ahead. His mind flickered to Misery, to the child she carried, and to the sister who refused to give up on him. For the first time in what felt like forever, a glimmer of hope pierced the darkness inside him.
***
The journey toward the Moon Goddess Stone became more harrowing with each passing day. The terrain, once manageable, shifted into jagged rock formations and slippery paths. Ominous storms brewed overhead, lightning illuminating the rugged landscape in stark flashes. Every crack of thunder reverberated through the group, their nerves already worn thin. Shadows crept at the edges of their vision, moving unnaturally, as if the darkness itself had become a living entity.
Lyra stumbled on the uneven ground, exhaustion weighing her down. Her body ached from days of walking, and hunger gnawed at her. Still, she pressed on, determined to reach the stone and save her brother.
Beside her, Eryon walked in silence, his face stoic, though his crimson eyes flickered with a mix of emotions. Lyra glanced at him, their steps falling into rhythm. “When this is over,” she said softly, “we’ll figure out how to make things right.”
Eryon’s jaw tightened, and he stared straight ahead. “If there’s anything left to make right,” he muttered.
She stopped and placed a hand on his arm, forcing him to look at her. “There’s always something left, Eryon. You taught me that.”
Eryon hesitated, his expression unreadable. After a moment, he nodded, and they continued their trek, the unspoken bond between them growing stronger with every step.
Behind them, Cassian kept his distance, his sharp gaze fixed on Eryon. His frustration simmered beneath the surface, barely contained. He didn’t trust the vampire-wolf hybrid, and every time Lyra leaned closer to her brother, the Alpha felt the sting of inadequacy. Still, even he couldn’t deny the necessity of their mission. If the Moon Goddess Stone held the key to Eryon’s salvation, then Cassian would see it through—no matter the cost.
As the storm intensified, the group found a small alcove to rest. Rain pounded against the rocks, creating a steady rhythm that mingled with the howling wind. Lyra shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around her. She caught Cassian’s gaze from across the fire, his expression softening for a brief moment.
“We’re close,” he said, his voice gruff but steady. “We’ll make it.”
Lyra nodded, her resolve renewed. The Moon Goddess Stone was near, and with it, the hope they all desperately needed.