Chapter 6 Lyra's Haunting Dream about Fire, Moon, and Wolves

It started with the smell of burning wood, sharp and terrifying.

I stood in the middle of the Nightshade Pack's common grounds, but everything felt wrong. The ground beneath me pulsed as if it were alive, scorched and cracked. The sky above was black, with streaks of blood-red cutting through the clouds. The moon was full, shining an ominous crimson as if soaked in the blood of the fallen.

I tried to move and speak, but my body wouldn't obey. My bare feet seemed rooted to the soil. The pack grounds were eerily quiet, except for the soft crackle of invisible flames and distant, heart-wrenching howls echoing through the night.

Suddenly, I wasn't alone.

Wolves appeared, dozens of them, emerging from the shadows like ghosts. Their eyes glowed silver, fixed on me, their fur glistening with dew-or was it blood? They didn't approach. They just stood there, waiting. Watching.

One stepped forward.

She was beautiful and ethereal, her fur a shimmering mix of silver and gold that rippled like starlight. Her eyes were just like mine: burnished gold, rimmed with amber. I knew deeply that this wolf was not just any creature. She was me.

She opened her mouth, but no sound came. Instead, the sky behind her cracked open with thunder, and flames erupted from the ground, forming a circle around us. A gust of wind rushed through my hair, bringing frantic whispers-layered voices I couldn't understand.

The dream changed.

Now I stood on a battlefield. Wolves clashed with other wolves-fur and fangs flew in every direction. Blood soaked the ground. I searched for familiar faces, calling out, but my voice got lost in the chaos. Amid the frenzy, I spotted him-Alpha Caden.

He stood at the edge of the field, unmoving, sword in hand, watching it all unfold. His expression was unreadable. Was it grief, regret, or indifference? His eyes met mine, and something passed between us-something I didn't understand. Then, in an instant, he turned and vanished into the smoke.

I spun around, and the dream shifted again. I found myself alone in a chamber made of bone and moonlight. A massive mural covered the walls, showing wolves kneeling before a burning moon, with a woman at the center. Her hair was aflame, her eyes radiated power, and in her chest burned a symbol-the same mark that had scorched my shoulder on my twenty-first birthday.

I gasped and stumbled backward. My reflection appeared in a shard of obsidian on the wall. My hair was no longer chestnut brown-it had streaks of silver. My eyes glowed. My skin was marked with ancient runes. I barely recognized myself.

"You are the fire. You are the moon. You are the wolf."

The voice rang out clearly now, soft and feminine yet filled with power. It was not mine, but it came from within.

"Aira?" I whispered.

But there was no reply. Only silence.

The dream crumbled like ash in the wind.

I woke up screaming, drenched in sweat, the sheets twisted around my legs like vines.

Moonlight filtered through the window, casting silver beams across the room. My heart raced as I sat up and tried to catch my breath. The room was quiet, too quiet. I could still feel the heat of the flames on my skin, the weight of those glowing eyes, the echo of the battlefield in my ears.

It had been too vivid, too real.

And the mark on my shoulder-it burned.

Not metaphorically. It literally burned.

I rushed to the mirror, tugging my nightgown to the side. The mark-once faint and silvery-now glowed a dim gold, pulsing like it had a life of its own.

I touched it. Pain shot through me. I bit back a cry.

What was happening to me?

I stumbled backward, breathing heavily. Was the dream a prophecy? A warning? A memory?

I sank onto my bed, wrapping my arms around my knees. The dream felt like a message. The images haunted me: the silver-gold wolf, the blood-red moon, the prophecy etched into the walls, and Aira's almost-voice.

I had no answers, only questions that grew heavier by the minute.

One thing was clear-this wasn't just a dream.

Something ancient was waking up inside me.

And I wasn't ready.

---

By morning, my face was pale and drawn. I hadn't slept at all after the dream. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw fire and blood. I felt the moon's gaze pressing down on me like a judgment.

I needed answers.

But who would believe me? Who could I even talk to? Zara? No. The Elders? They'd probably dismiss me as unstable. Caden? He barely acknowledged me.

Still, I needed to know what this meant. I couldn't keep pretending everything was normal.

Because something was coming.

And I feared it had already begun.