Chapter 3 Shadows of the Alpha

With Damon's jacket draped over her shoulders, Lyra crouched on the rooftop, cold biting through the soaking silk of her ruined dress. The gown was severely damaged. With this perspective, she caught sight of the SUV parked below. The doors were closed now, and the alley seemed quiet. It was too quiet.

She knew better than to trust silence. The quiet is where the real monsters hide.

Lyra heard footsteps coming. "Damon," she thought, crouching low and ready to pounce, breath bated. Before stricking, she caught a whiff of comfort, earth, and electricity. Smoke and antonyms. Striding towards the rooftop hatch without a sound, Damon emerged with his gun at the ready.

"They're not Valente. They're not Moretti either. Cassian's men."

The blood froze within Lyra. "What? The Blood Howlers? Where?"

Damon stared down his nose at her to acheiev gaiunter. "Cassian doesn't usually leave his mountain stronghold. For him to be here...." Their collective gaze was enough. "It means he knows."

The room shifted yet felt static. "Knows what?" she whispered.

"That you're alive. Don't burn. And, in fact..." Were these curses? "You're the last heir of the Blood Pact."

This landed like an arrow piercing her.

Lyra lost depth perception.

A secret oath between coin (without you) claiming territory above all, which was thought to be broken and buried over time. Legends told tales of creaters, though.

Legends spoke of a sinister boy was born on the blood moon -half wolf, half mafia- claiming he would wield the ability to bring together or annihilate every pack across the continent.

A shrug of my shoulders and that was what Lyra thought it was; a tale that was fabricated in order to intimidate or charm children around a fire's warmth.

The seriousness in Damons face attested otherwise. "It's you Lyra. The only one left. The last female of that bloodline. You just stepped out of a mafia wedding into werewolf war hot spot. Everyone will want their slice of you-Moretti, Cassian... even your father."

"That's not what I wanted," Lyra said backing off. "This was not what I asked for. I wanted off the hook. I wanted to be boundless."

"No more hooks," Damon remarked. "Not when blood flows through your veins, not when the future of two worlds lies intertwined in your bloodstream."

Even though her breaths became staggered she stood taller, "Then I am never gonna hide."

At this point Damon resorted to blinking.

She stated whole heartedly, "I have ran once before, this time is not the same. Boundaries only change the meaning of freedom. If they desire for a queen, then on my conditions, that's what I shall be."

Unreadable pace still made him move toward, his eyes glued to avoid flashing consequence of what questioning her decision entailed. "A queen doesn't just rule. She controls kingdoms. She fights "kill or be killed" And survives with no one left standing if needed to."

"I do already," vocals subdued.

"Might be too late for that."

The crack of thunder heralded a flash of lighting, and this seemed no different-truly, it felt like an omen, but rather than destruction, it bore a much more forlorn sense.

The buzz brought focus back to the present, and Damon clicked the button that turned the screen to his phone. One glimmering word caught his attention:

MORETTI.

"Lyra, shrunk herself into a box, they know you're here," he said, turning the screen towards her.

She bit her lips, fists clenched as tight. "Then let them come."

A hidden chamber in Rome.

A man in a black suit walked forward and as he reached Luca, he announced, "She ran to Damon Kade."

"Well..." Luca smirked with a hint of bloodlust. "Then let the blood games begin."