The silence of the small room weighed on Lyra, heavier than it had ever been. Hours had passed since Kael had left her there, and she couldn't shake the growing sense of dread that crept into her bones. Her mind wouldn't stop racing. She was trapped—no chains, no locks, but bound tighter than ever by Kael's possessive control.
But something had changed. She couldn't pinpoint it, but the way he looked at her, the way he watched her every move, it was different now—more intense. More deliberate. And that terrified her.
Lyra paced the room, her footsteps echoing softly off the stone walls. Her thoughts kept circling back to the young wolf, to the offer of escape that had nearly slipped through her fingers. She should have taken the chance when she had it. But now? She didn't know if another opportunity would come.
As she wrestled with her thoughts, the door creaked open again. This time, Kael's entrance was softer, quieter, as though he was trying not to disturb the heavy silence that filled the room. His presence still felt like a weight pressing down on her chest.
He didn't speak as he crossed the room. Lyra stopped pacing, her pulse quickening, the familiar tension settling between them. Kael's gaze flicked over her, intense, calculating.
But before Lyra could ask what he wanted, Kael's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist—not harshly, but firmly, pulling her toward the bed. Lyra's heart skipped a beat, panic rising in her chest, but she forced herself to hold his gaze, refusing to show fear.
"Sit," Kael commanded, his voice low, but there was a different edge to it now. He wasn't angry. He wasn't taunting. There was something else—something darker and more complicated lurking beneath the surface.
Lyra hesitated, but she sat down on the edge of the bed, her body tense. "What do you want, Kael?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. Instead, he crouched in front of her, his eyes never leaving hers. The movement startled her. She had never seen him like this—so close, so intent, like he was searching for something in her eyes.
For a moment, Lyra's breath caught in her throat. She had expected cruelty, coldness, but this? This was different.
"I've been patient with you," Kael said, his voice soft but filled with restrained intensity. "Too patient."
Lyra swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as his words settled over her. The closeness between them was suffocating, the weight of his presence pressing down on her like a vice. "You've been anything but patient," she spat, her voice trembling.
Kael's lips curled into a slight smile, but there was no humor in it. "You're strong, Lyra. Too strong for your own good."
Her stomach twisted, and she tried to pull her wrist free, but his grip tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her that she was still at his mercy.
"I told you," Kael continued, his voice dark and quiet, "that you belong to me. And it's time you understood what that means."
Lyra's breath hitched, her mind spinning. This wasn't new. Kael's possessiveness, his obsession—it had always been there. But tonight, it felt different. More dangerous. More final.
But before she could react, Kael leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "There's something you need to know, Lyra," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
She froze, her body going rigid beneath his touch. "What?" she whispered, fear curling in her chest.
Kael's hand moved from her wrist to her jaw, tilting her face toward him. His eyes burned into hers, filled with a fire she couldn't quite understand. "You're not just anyone. You were never just a girl running from a destroyed pack."
Lyra's heart pounded in her chest, her mind reeling. "What are you talking about?"
Kael's gaze didn't waver. "You're tied to something far more powerful than even you realize."
Lyra's breath caught in her throat. "What?"
"Your bloodline," Kael said, his voice a dark whisper. "It's tied to the prophecy."
The word hit her like a physical blow. **Prophecy?** What was he talking about?
Lyra shook her head, confusion swirling in her mind. "I don't understand."
Kael's grip on her jaw tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make her meet his gaze. "There's a prophecy that's been whispered through the packs for generations, one that speaks of a girl—one with the power to shift the balance of the entire werewolf world."
Lyra's stomach twisted, her blood running cold. "You're lying."
Kael shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm not. You were always meant for something greater, Lyra. That's why your pack was destroyed. That's why I took you."
Her heart raced, her mind spinning with disbelief. She had always known there was something about her bloodline, something tied to the moon, to power. But a **prophecy?**
Kael stood, releasing her jaw as he crossed the room, pacing like a predator in a cage. "The Greystone pack wasn't just powerful because of their strength. It was because of you. Your family's bloodline has a connection to the moon that no other pack has. And that connection is tied to the prophecy."
Lyra shook her head, her hands trembling in her lap. "I don't believe you."
"You should," Kael said, his voice cold and sure. "Because Marcus knows it too. He's been waiting for the right moment to take you, to use your power for himself."
Lyra's breath hitched. Marcus? Was that why he had been circling her, why he had been so intent on undermining Kael? Was he after something more than just power within the pack?
Kael stopped pacing, his eyes locking onto hers. "That's why I brought you here. To protect you. To claim you before anyone else could."
The room spun around her, the weight of Kael's words crashing down on her like a tidal wave. **A prophecy? Power?**
She had spent her entire life running, hiding, trying to survive. But now, everything felt like it had been turned upside down. Her entire existence had been shaped by something she didn't even know existed.
And Kael… he had known all along.
Lyra's mind raced. If this prophecy was real, then everything made sense—her family's downfall, Kael's obsession, Marcus's dangerous interest. But the thought of being some sort of pawn in a larger game made her sick to her stomach.
"What do you want from me?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
Kael's expression softened, just slightly, but the intensity in his eyes never faded. "I need you, Lyra. You're the key to everything."
Lyra's chest tightened, panic rising in her throat. "You don't care about me. You just want my power."
Kael didn't deny it. He stepped closer, his hand brushing her cheek in a gesture that felt too intimate, too manipulative. "You and I are bound, Lyra. We were always meant to be."
Lyra flinched, pulling away from his touch. "I don't believe in fate."
Kael's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. "You will."
Lyra stood, her body trembling as she backed away from him, her mind spinning with everything she had just learned. **A prophecy.** It was too much, too fast. But as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, one thing became painfully clear.
She couldn't trust Kael. She couldn't trust anyone.
And now, with Marcus plotting in the shadows, time was running out.
Lyra's eyes locked onto Kael's, her heart pounding. "You said I was the key," she said, her voice trembling but steady. "But you're wrong. I'll never be what you want me to be."
Kael's lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. "We'll see."