Chapter 4 Lyra

The corridors of King Alpha Ulrich's Castle were a symphony of heavy footsteps and muffled murmurs as he walked alongside his Luna, Lyra. Both were clad in royal attire, their imposing presences radiating power and majesty as they made their way to the main hall of the castle.

As they approached the massive doors of the hall, the guards stationed there greeted them with reverence, clearing the way for the King and Queen of the North Vale. Turin, Ulrich's faithful beta, awaited them with an expression of respect and admiration, his voice resonating with reverence as he proclaimed their identities to the gathered assembly.

"Let all rise to greet the King and Queen of the North Vale!" announced Turin, his eyes gleaming with pride as Ulrich and Lyra entered the hall, their figures dominating the space with an undeniable presence.

The attendees rose in a gesture of respect and reverence, their varied expressions revealing admiration, fear, and surprise at the imminent announcement. Ulrich and Lyra gracefully made their way to their designated seats, Ulrich's gaze sweeping over the assembly with an intensity that made his dominance over all present unmistakable.

With a graceful gesture, Ulrich raised a goblet, the metal gleaming in the candlelight that illuminated the hall. He knew that all present were eager for his words, his announcements, his commands. His tone of voice was firm and resolute as he addressed the gathered crowd.

"My subjects," began Ulrich, his voice resonating with authority. "Tonight is not merely a common celebration of our victories in the Northern realm. Tonight marks a significant moment, an announcement that will shape the future of our kingdom."

All eyes were fixed on Ulrich, expectant, as he continued, his voice echoing through the hall.

"It is with great pride and joy that I announce that Lyra, my beloved Luna, carries in her womb the future heir of the North Vale," declared Ulrich, the gleam of determination and confidence in his eyes reflecting the profound meaning of his words.

A wave of murmurs passed through the assembly, surprise, and admiration painting the faces of those present. Lyra stood beside Ulrich, her expression serene and radiant, her gaze meeting the King's with love and gratitude.

Ulrich raised his goblet once more, a proud smile curving his lips.

"Therefore, I propose a toast to the future of the Northern kingdom and to our heir, who will bring prosperity and glory to our pack," he proclaimed, his voice resonating with conviction.

The attendees raised their goblets in response, echoing the King's toast with enthusiasm and fervor. The hall filled with the sound of clinking glasses, a symphony of hope and promise for the future of the North Vale.

***

The main hall of King Alpha Ulrich's Castle was alive with activity and movement, with the kingdom's people celebrating in ecstasy the victory against the dreaded Alpha Gray and the news of Luna Lyra's pregnancy. Ulrich sat beside Lyra on an adorned throne, watching with a serene and proud gaze as his people danced and reveled to the sound of festive music echoing off the stone walls of the hall.

Ulrich turned to Lyra, his fervent gaze brimming with love and admiration for the woman beside him. "Lyra," he began softly, "there is something I would like to show you."

A smile lit up Lyra's face as she turned to Ulrich. "Of course, my King. What is it?"

Ulrich reached out to Lyra, and together they rose from the throne, leaving the main hall toward the walls where the pelts of alphas defeated by Ulrich in battle were hung. They stopped before the silver pelt of Alpha Gray, which hung imposingly among the others. Ulrich looked at the pelt with a pensive expression.

"Of all the trophies I brought home, this pelt was the most awaited," he confessed to Lyra.

Lyra studied Gray's pelt for a moment before turning her gaze to Ulrich, curious. "Why this one in particular?"

Ulrich turned to Lyra, his serious expression softening a bit with a touch of melancholy in his eyes.

"Because, my dear, it was the only pelt that provided me with a certain pleasure to bring home," he explained, his tone of voice laden with somber memories.

Lyra looked at Ulrich, understanding the gravity behind his words. She knew that each pelt represented a hard-fought battle, a challenge faced, and a victory won, but it also carried the weight of lost lives, of interrupted stories.

Next, Lyra took a few steps toward a massive red wolf pelt, which stood out among the others. Ulrich followed her, watching her closely as she stopped before the pelt.

"This is Alpha Crimson of the Firestorm pack," Ulrich said, indicating the red pelt with a solemn gesture.

Lyra looked at Crimson's pelt, her memories mingling with the pain of loss. Firestorm was her former pack, the place where she grew up and learned the ways of the wolves. Crimson was her alpha, a leader she once followed with devotion and loyalty.

"Firestorm... Crimson..." she whispered, her voice filled with emotion and nostalgia.

Ulrich noticed Lyra's expression, the sadness that crossed her face, and approached her.

"Do you miss Crimson? Or perhaps the pack?" he asked, serious.

Lyra took a deep breath, struggling to contain the emotions that threatened to overflow. Then she turned to Ulrich, her eyes meeting his.

"No, I don't miss them," she replied slowly, "I am grateful for the life you have given me, for our kingdom, and our child. There is no room for longing when I am with you, my king."

Ulrich cupped Lyra's face in his trembling hands, his eyes conveying a mixture of concern and tenderness.

"I'm glad you say that," he murmured softly, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

Then Lyra let out a tired sigh and placed her hand on her belly, a look of discomfort passing over her face.

"I'm not feeling well. I think I'll rest for a while," she said with a faint smile.

Ulrich nodded, concern shining in his golden eyes.

"Of course, my dear. I'll accompany you to my chambers," he replied, offering her his arm for support.

Together, they departed from the main hall, leaving behind the celebrations and murmurs of the party as they made their way to the bedroom.

***

Ulrich was immersed in restless sleep when dark dreams enveloped him. He found himself on the plains of Silver Fang Valley, surrounded by the pack he had ruthlessly defeated. But this time, there was no battle, only the accusing gaze of the wolves surrounding him. In the center of the crowd, Gaia, the Seer he had faced in battle, emerged.

Ulrich's eyes narrowed as he saw Gaia approaching, aware that this encounter in the depths of his dreams would not be peaceful.

"You ignored the warnings of fate, Ulrich," her voice echoed around him, laden with transcendent authority. "Now, it is time to face the consequences of your actions."

"I do not care for your prophecies," Ulrich declared, chin raised in defiance.

An enigmatic smile curved Gaia's lips.

"You will care, Ulrich. You will care when you wake up," she replied, her eyes sparking with a dark promise.

Ulrich stared at Gaia with determination, his posture upright and his expression relentless.

"The words of the dead hold no power over me," he retorted firmly.

Before Ulrich could react, Gaia advanced toward him with impressive ferocity. Instinctively, Ulrich grabbed the dagger resting in its sheath and wielded it against Gaia, aiming to protect himself from the imminent attack.

The sound of metal against metal echoed in the air as Ulrich's dagger met Gaia's belly, and a scream rang out in the night before Ulrich abruptly awakened, his heart pounding wildly.

Ulrich's eyes opened to reality, meeting Lyra's before him, her eyes wide with shock and surprise. He blinked several times, trying to assimilate what had happened as the heat of battle still pulsed in his veins.

"What... what happened?" His voice came out hoarse and uncertain as he tried to orient himself.

Lyra lowered her hand toward her own belly, and it was then that Ulrich noticed the dagger he had wielded in his dream was now bloodied, and embedded in Lyra's body.

A shiver ran down Ulrich's spine as the cruel reality of what he had done hit him full force. He released the dagger as if it were burning and held Lyra's face in his trembling hands, his eyes filled with despair and remorse.

"Stay calm, Lyra," he pleaded, his voice full of anguish. "I... I will call for help. This was not real, it was just a nightmare..."

Lyra looked at Ulrich, her face a mask of shock and concern, but also of compassion. She placed a gentle hand on his, conveying a sense of comfort.

"It's too late," she whispered weakly.

Ulrich held Lyra's face in trembling hands, his heart broken by the idea of having harmed the woman carrying his heir.

"I never meant to hurt you, Lyra. Never," he whispered, his words heavy with remorse.

Lyra smiled gently at him, her expression radiant with forgiveness and understanding. "I know, my king. I know."

Then, as if the strength left her, Lyra slumped in Ulrich's arms, life leaving her from the dagger he inadvertently threw at her while asleep.

Ulrich remained there, stunned and horrified, holding his Luna's lifeless body, bitterly lamenting the tragic outcome of his dreams.