The clash between Eryon and the King was unlike anything Lyra had ever seen. Every strike, every surge of magic, sent shockwaves rippling across the battlefield.
The ground beneath them cracked and splintered, the air thick with the scent of blood and charred earth. The pack’s warriors kept their distance, their own battles paling in comparison to the ferocious duel unfolding at the heart of the chaos.
Lyra stood frozen, her silver eyes locked on her brother. Eryon’s movements were fierce and unrelenting, his claws raking against the King’s dark armor with devastating force.
But the King matched him at every turn, his sword a blur of shimmering dark energy that lashed out with brutal precision. Eryon’s blood stained the ground, vivid against the darkened soil, and Lyra’s heart clenched with each fresh wound he endured.
“No,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “He’s hurt.”
Beside her, Cassian fought off a vampire that lunged toward them, his movements swift and brutal. With a sharp growl, he dispatched the attacker and turned to Lyra, his golden eyes blazing with frustration.
“Lyra, stay back!” he barked, his tone firm. “You can’t get involved in this.”
Lyra’s gaze darted to Cassian, her expression wild with desperation.
“He’s my brother, Cassian!” she cried, her voice breaking. “I can’t just stand here and do nothing!”
Cassian’s hand shot out, gripping her arm tightly as he pulled her closer. His eyes softened, but his tone remained steady.
“You can’t help him like this. You’ll only make it worse. Stay safe. That’s what he’d want.”
Lyra tried to pull away, but Cassian held firm.
“He’s holding his own,” he said, though his voice lacked conviction. “He needs you alive, Lyra. Don’t make his sacrifice meaningless.”
Tears burned in her eyes as she looked back at the fight. Eryon was relentless, but the King was unyielding, each strike of his sword pushing Eryon closer to the edge.
Blood dripped from a gash on Eryon’s side, his movements slowing with each passing second. Lyra’s chest tightened as the reality of the moment crashed over her.
“I can’t lose him,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Cassian’s grip softened, but he didn’t let go.
“We won’t lose him,” he said, his voice low. “But you need to trust him. He’s stronger than you think.”
Lyra’s heart ached as she watched her brother fight, bloodied but unyielding. His amber eyes burned with fury and determination, a stark contrast to the pale exhaustion etched into his features. She swallowed hard, her throat tight as she whispered, “Come back to me, Eryon. Please.”