The days following Ronan's visit to Winters' Pages passed by in a blur, but Lyra couldn't escape the gnawing feeling in her gut. It wasn't just his presence that had unsettled her, but the way he seemed to understand her in a way that nobody else did. There was something about him something otherworldly that she couldn't ignore. She had tried to push it aside, to tell herself it was just her imagination, but deep down, she knew it was something more.
The full moon was only a few days away now, and Crescent Grove seemed to hold its breath in anticipation. Lyra found herself drawn to the moon each night, watching it rise higher and higher in the sky until it hung like a silvery beacon over the town. It wasn't just the moon itself that captivated her; it was the feeling that something was changing inside her. A restlessness she couldn't quite explain. She'd never been one to believe in superstitions, but lately, she couldn't shake the feeling that the world around her was shifting because of Ronan.
The night was just beginning to settle over the town when Lyra felt again an undeniable pull toward the forest. It was an instinct she couldn't fight, as though something deep inside her was guiding her steps. She had no intention of going out into the woods that night, but her feet moved of their own accord. She knew she should ignore it. She knew it was irrational to feel so compelled, but the urge was too strong to resist.
Grabbing her coat, she left the safety of her apartment above the bookstore and stepped out into the cool night air. Crescent Grove was quiet as always, the only sound being the rustle of leaves in the breeze. The moon was nearly full, casting a ghostly light over the town. Lyra could feel the pull growing stronger with each step she took, the trees seeming to whisper her name.
By the time she reached the edge of the forest, her heart was pounding in her chest. She paused, glancing back at the familiar streets of Crescent Grove, but something told her she wouldn't be returning home the same way she came. The moonlight bathed the forest in an ethereal glow, making the shadows seem alive, shifting with the wind.
Then, she heard a howl, long and haunting, echoing through the trees. It wasn't like any wolf she had ever heard. It was deep and guttural, full of pain and longing. It chilled her to the bone, but there was something in that sound that felt... familiar.
Lyra felt a jolt in her chest. She was about to turn and leave when she felt a presence behind her. She whipped around, her breath catching in her throat. Standing just beyond the treeline, barely visible in the darkness, was Ronan.
"Ronan," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.
His eyes gleamed in the moonlight, a feral intensity in his gaze that sent a shiver down her spine. He took a step closer, his movements fluid and predatory, like a wolf stalking its prey.
"You shouldn't be here," he said softly, his voice a low growl that seemed to vibrate through the air. "It's dangerous."
Lyra took a cautious step back, the weight of his words sinking in. "I... I don't know what's happening. I just felt... like I had to come here."
Ronan's expression softened for a brief moment, though the tension in the air remained thick. "You're not supposed to be a part of this world, Lyra," he said, his voice low and almost apologetic. "But it's too late now."
The wind shifted, and for the first time, Lyra noticed something strange in his eyes something darker, something almost... animalistic. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, a second howl split the air, louder and closer this time. The sound of claws scraping against bark echoed through the trees.
Ronan's body stiffened, his gaze locking onto the forest as though sensing something Lyra couldn't. "We have to go," he said urgently, his voice edged with a rawness she hadn't heard before. "Now."
Before she could ask what was going on, Ronan grabbed her arm with surprising strength and pulled her toward the woods. Lyra stumbled after him, her heart racing in her chest. What was happening? She didn't understand any of this, but she knew she had to trust him. Something deep inside her told her that he was the only one who could protect her now.
They moved deeper into the forest, the shadows growing thicker, the howls growing louder with each passing second. Lyra's pulse quickened, fear gnawing at her insides. She had never been this far into the woods before. It was as though she had crossed an invisible line, stepping into a world she didn't understand.
"Ronan, what's going on?" she gasped, trying to catch her breath. "What are those sounds? What's happening?"
Ronan didn't answer immediately. He was too focused, his senses alert, his posture tense and ready for anything. "There are threats to the pack," he said, his voice strained. "I don't know who they are yet, but they're getting closer."
Pack? Lyra's mind raced the word echoing in her thoughts. She had no idea what he meant, but the urgency in his voice told her that it wasn't just talk. Something real was happening.
The sounds of movement grew louder, and Lyra could feel her skin prickle with the weight of unseen eyes watching them. The forest seemed alive, the trees pressing in on her from all sides. The air itself felt charged like a storm was about to break.
Suddenly, Ronan stopped dead in his tracks, pulling Lyra to a halt with him. His eyes were wide, his body tense. The air seemed to shimmer with an electric charge.
"Stay close," he whispered, barely moving his lips. "Don't make a sound."
Lyra's heart pounded in her chest as she watched him. His expression was serious, his eyes fixed on something just beyond her view. She turned slowly, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the shapes moving in the darkness.
Figures. Shadows. Dark forms moved silently through the trees, their eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight. There were at least five of them, each one larger than any human she had ever seen, their bodies hulking and powerful.
"Wolves," she whispered in horror, unable to tear her gaze away.
Ronan nodded, his jaw clenched. "Not just any wolves. They're rogue. They don't belong to my pack."
The rogues emerged from the shadows, circling them slowly, their eyes glowing with a predatory gleam. Lyra felt a cold shiver run down her spine. These weren't ordinary wolves. They were more than that much more.
"Ronan, what do we do?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
He didn't answer. Instead, he shifted slightly, his posture changing, becoming more predatory. His eyes seemed to flash with an unnatural light, and for a split second, Lyra could have sworn she saw the faint outline of something... different. Something... inhuman.
The wolves circled closer, their growls low and menacing. Ronan stepped in front of Lyra, his body tense and ready for battle.
"Stay behind me," he growled.
The full moon was rising higher in the sky, its light casting an eerie glow on the forest. And as it reached its peak, something inside Lyra shifted something ancient, something she had never felt before. The pull, the call, it was undeniable.
And she knew, deep down, that this night would change everything.