'Lyra! Wake up!'
The voice called her, cutting through the haze of her unconsciousness.
Lyra's eyes fluttered open, her senses slowly returning. The faint scent of herbs and the soft crackle of a fire greeted her. Pain lanced through her side as she tried to move, her body heavy and aching. She groaned, blinking against the dim light, trying to orient herself and locate the source of the voice.
"You're awake."
Her gaze landed on the man sitting beside her. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his dark eyes watching her with an intensity that made her throat tighten. He was a stranger, yet something about him felt… overwhelming, in a way she couldn't explain.
"W-Who are you?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
The man didn't flinch. Instead, his lips quirked in a small, humorless smile. "I should be the one asking you that. Who are you?" His tone carried an edge of authority, sending a shiver down her spine.
Lyra glanced away, trying to escape the weight of his piercing gaze. Her pulse raced, and uneasiness settled in her chest. "I-I'm… Lyra," she stammered.
The man's eyebrow arched, and he repeated her name, almost as if savoring it. "Lyra," he said, testing the sound of it on his tongue. "Interesting."
Lyra's unease deepened. "I—I shouldn't be here. I'm sorry. I'll go," she said quickly, attempting to shift her body. A sharp, burning pain shot through her side, making her wince and fall back against the soft surface of the bed.
Yes, she might have a stronger sense like the other wolf that could shift. But her healing capabilities were slower than usual. A big wound like the one she got from the rogues would take a day for her to heal.
"I think not," the man said firmly. "You're in no condition to go anywhere."
She gritted her teeth, trying to ignore the discomfort, but his words pulled her attention back to her surroundings. The room was unfamiliar—a clinic, judging by the neat rows of beds divided by white curtains and the shelves of medicine lining the far wall. Her brow furrowed.
"Where am I?" she asked, her voice cautious.
"You're in the Blackmoon pack territory," the man replied, leaning back slightly. "And I am Kael, the Alpha of this pack."
Lyra's blood ran cold at his words. Her eyes widened as recognition hit her like a thunderclap. She slowly turned to face him, memories she had tried to bury surfacing with brutal clarity.
"N-No…" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Kael frowned, confusion flickering across his face. "Why?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
Lyra looked away, her breathing unsteady. It's him. She could never forget those piercing eyes, the commanding presence that loomed over her even as a child. He was the Alpha responsible for destroying her life, the one who led the attack that left her parents dead and her brother missing.
"You…" Her voice shook as she spoke, a mix of fear and fury bubbling beneath the surface.
"Yes," Kael said, his tone calm, though his eyes narrowed as he observed her reaction. "Yes, Lyra. It's me."
Her hands clenched the blanket, her knuckles whitening. "Why… Why am I here?" she demanded, her voice rising with panic.
Kael's expression softened slightly, though his posture remained firm. "You were found near our borders, badly injured. Rogue attack, from the looks of it. My patrol brought you back."
Lyra stared at him, her mind racing. She wanted to scream at him, to push him away, but the throbbing pain in her side was a harsh reminder of her helplessness. "I didn't ask for your help."
Kael raised an eyebrow. "You would have bled out if they hadn't brought you to me."
"I didn't want to be brought here," Lyra snapped, her fear giving way to anger.
Kael sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Regardless of what you wanted, you're here now. And you're not going anywhere until you've healed."
Lyra's lips pressed into a thin line, the frustration in her chest building. She wanted to argue, to fight back, but she couldn't deny that she was in no condition to leave. For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy and tense.
Kael broke it with a single word. "Fate."
Lyra's head snapped up, confusion written across her face. "What?"
Kael's intense gaze bore into hers. "It's fate that you're here."
"Fate?" Lyra repeated incredulously. "You think this is some kind of divine plan? You've got to be kidding me."
Kael leaned closer, his voice lowering. "Don't you feel it, Lyra? The bond?"
The air seemed to thicken between them, and Lyra's breath hitched. That strange pull she'd felt from the moment she opened her eyes—it wasn't normal. But she refused to acknowledge it.
"No," she said firmly, shaking her head. "I don't feel anything."
Kael's lips curved into a faint smile. "Liar."
"I'm not lying!" she shot back, her voice rising. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Kael stood, towering over her, his expression a mix of frustration and patience.
"The moon goddess doesn't make mistakes, Lyra. You're my mate."
The words hit her like a physical blow, and her entire body stiffened. "What did you just say?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Kael's eyes softened slightly, but his tone remained steady.
"You're my mate. The bond is real, whether you want to accept it."
Lyra's eyes widened as the feeling she had been trying to ignore earlier slowly became reality.
"No…" Lyra said, her voice trembling. "No, this can't be true. You… can't be!"