Focus, Lyra.
Chepi growls protectively beside me as several more people crowd around, eager to catch a glimpse or join in the confrontation.
Realizing the situation is quickly escalating, I try to summon my composure along with a hint of my dark magic—enough to ensure I can protect myself and Chepi if things take a turn. My head swims slightly with the effects of the Blind Punch, but the imminent threat sharpens my senses, readying me for whatever comes next. I need to handle this carefully. Any rash actions could have far-reaching consequences now that I’m so exposed.
“Wow, a rebellion leader in the making. Should I get you a crown?” I quip, flashing him a cheeky smile. Ihope my sarcasm might defuse the tension. But as the man clenches his fist and raises his hand—whether to point, cast a spell, or strike, I’m not sure—I brace myself for whatever may come.
In a sudden shift, Chepi’s head dips, and from his horns erupts a dark burst of pure power. The force of it sends the man flying back into the crowd that has gathered behind him. The band falls silent, and the murmuring commotion of the onlookers swells.
Seizing the moment of stunned surprise, I wrap my arm protectively around Chepi and channel away.
Chapter 8
Lyra
We touchdown in the only place I could think of, given my inebriated state and current lack of friends—the Lycan Realm. As soon as we arrive, the familiar sight of the midnight trees greets me, their branches heavy with spectacular shades of blue. Everything here is in full bloom for spring, and the lush, vibrant colors are probably the only thing I miss from this realm. Well, that and Rhett.
This realm is where everything started. It’s where Aidan stole my innocence and where Athalda orchestrated the first ceremony. As much as I may truly hate this realm, I’ve owed my old friend Rhett a visit, and considering everything that’s happened, I fear he won’t be pleased to see me.
I remember Luke pointing out Rhett’s house to me during my first visit here, but it’s hard to say if he still lives there or how he’ll react to seeing me again. Gods, I haven’t seen him since before Nyx killed Aidan, and so much has changed since then. Now, after the council meeting where I killed Larc—their new leader and Rhett’s former pack leader and friend—I’m anxious.
My steps grow heavier as I draw closer to Rhett’s house. The memories of my last visit, mixed with the recent violent events, churn a storm of nerves within me. Despite the dread that tightens my chest, I know I need to see Rhett. I need to ensure he’s okay and need to know if I can call him an ally in the coming days. Especially if Kaine is starting an uprising against me and seeking Samaels help…avoiding the Lycans forever isn’t an option.
The village is eerily silent as I walk, the sun having long begun its descent from the sky. I glance over at Chepi, who’s staying close by my side, opting to fly rather than walk. “Neat trick you did back there with your new horns,” I say, and he swoops in close to lick my cheek.
I wonder what other magic Ryella gifted him. He doesn’t seem to change at all when he uses his new magic. Still my same sweet boy, no black eyes or anything.
I think I need to stop being so afraid of my dark magic and start using it more, giving into it and embracing it. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. They don’t know how I feel, and if I’m going to truly master this new magic, I need to practice using it.
It’s probably a good thing I didn’t go all black-eyed and release my shadows back at the tavern. That would have only helped to solidify their fears, making me appear like the monster Kaine is painting me to be. Who was that guy anyway? I can’t believe he recognized me and grabbed me like that.
I run a hand over my face, feeling the weight of the day’s events. All I want right now is another drink and to curl up in a warm bed. The temptation to channel back to Drew’s and retreat to my room is strong. But I know I need to face this, to talk to Rhett alone. It’s important and needs to be done without any more delays or distractions.
As I pass through anotherfarm field, I turn down the trail that leads to Rhett’s cabin. I can already see it in the distance, and the plume of smoke curling from the chimney assures me someone is home. My pace quickens with anticipation, but as I draw nearer, I spot him sitting on the steps as if he’s been waiting for me. Rhett, with his jet-black hair and tan skin, those piercing baby-blue eyes cutting through the dimming light—it hasn’t been that long since we last met, but he looks even more imposing now. He rises, his figure looming larger as he takes a few steps toward me.
I muster a smile, though his face remains stoic, unreadable. Swallowing the nervous lump in my throat, I brace myself. “Hi,” I manage to say cheerfully, my voice tinged with a silly, buzzed lilt. The simplicity of the greeting hangs awkwardly in the air as I approach.
“What are you doing here, Lyra?” Rhett asks as I come to a stop in front of him. His tone is guarded, not the warm greeting I had hoped for, but at least he’s not shifting into a wolf and attacking me.
“Can we talk?” I ask, managing a small smile in an attempt to lighten the mood. He regards me with a scrutinizing look, his arms crossed, taking a moment to weigh his options or decide how much to let his guard down.
“Come inside,” he finally says, turning back toward the cabin and gesturing for me to follow. I exchange a nervous glance with Chepi, who seems to sense the tension, and then I follow after Rhett.
Once inside, I quickly take in the cabin’s interior, relieved to see he appears to be alone. The space is charming in its rustic simplicity. A small stone fireplace sits in the corner of the main sitting room, surrounded by a couch and a few lounge chairs that, though worn, look invitingly cozy. A giant fur rug sprawls across the floor in frontof the fire.
“Do you mind if I sit?” I ask awkwardly, still standing near the front door.
“Be my guest,” Rhett replies with a hint of irritation. I move to the fur rug and sit cross-legged, grateful for the warmth of the fire, and Chepi sprawls out next to me. I clear my throat, preparing to explain everything, but Rhett sits down across from me, leaning back against a chair and stretching his legs toward the fire. This gesture feels like a good sign. He doesn’t hate me if he’s inviting me in and sitting close.
“What’s happened to you, Lyra?” he asks, locking eyes with me.
“What do you mean?” I respond, puzzled by his question.
“Last I saw you, you’re with King Onyx looking for some old sorceress, then rumors spread that your Fae king is responsible for killing Aidan.” He runs a hand through his tousled black hair, looking genuinely confused and concerned. “Fuck, good riddance really, none of us cared for Aidan. But then you disappear for months, and all the realms are going to shit, being overrun by attacks. Then I hear Larc has to attend a meeting to discuss you and some new dark magic you’ve gotten into.”
He pauses, allowing the weight of what he’s saying to sink in, and I unconsciously start to chew on the inside of my cheek.
“And then he ends up dead, and according to Kaine, it was at your hand. I didn’t want to believe it—to believe all the things I’ve been hearing about you. I mean, what the fuck is going on with you, Lyra?”
