Chapter 2 LYRA

The training grounds of Moon claw Keep were a blur of sweat, moondust, and gnashed teeth. I stood in the shadows, pretending to deliver water like any other maid while staying close to Sophie but my eyes never left him, Kael was definitely something and I had to find out what.

Kael was in the center of the ring, chest heaving, a smear of blood staining his lip. The pack's lead trainer was shouting at him, his voice harsh. "Again."

I could see it clearly, even from where I stood. Kael's form was fast, but wild. Strong, but unfocused. He fought like someone who feared his own strength. It was frustrating to watch very frustrating..

The alpha blood was there. I could smell it, feel it under his skin like lightning before a storm. But it was dormant. Like it was caged

And no one here knew how to wake it. Not even the trainers

"Your strikes are too soft," the trainer barked. "You hesitate. You doubt. You fear"

I clenched my fists as Kael growled low in his throat, but the next hit was still lacking. He was holding back. Foolish boy. If he kept this up, he'd be torn apart before his first challenge.

"He's not even supposed to be here" one of the trainees howled.

But kael ignored him.

As the group began to disperse, Kael collapsed near the well, wiping his face with a tattered cloth. His shoulders slumped not just from exhaustion, but from shame. I could feel it in the air.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward and placed a wooden cup of water beside him. He didn't even look up at me. "Another lecture?" he muttered, his voice rough.

I hesitated, unsure if I was stepping out of line. But I couldn't stop myself. "No. Just... a suggestion."

He turned his eyes toward me, meeting mine for the first time. "From a maid?"

I smiled, but it wasn't a kind smile. It was the smile of someone who understood far more than she should. "From someone who knows what it's like to hide power."

His eyes flickered with surprise, then uncertainty. The silence stretched between us like a taut rope, neither of us willing to break it first.

"You fight like someone who's afraid to hurt," I said quietly. The words felt heavier than I intended. "But one day, not fighting back will hurt more."

Kael stiffened, a low growl escaping his throat. "What would you know about that?"

"You're just a maid"..

I wanted to tell him that I knew more than he'd ever understand that I knew what it felt like to be forced into hiding my true self. But I couldn't say that not here, not to him.

Instead, I said, "Meet me at the southern cliff by moonrise. No one goes there. I can help."

He studied me, his eyes wary, then curious. "Why would you help me?"

I shrugged, trying to make my voice sound casual. "Because you're not going to survive this path if you keep fighting like that. And because I need something to believe in, too."

"Who are you?" he asked finally..

"You'd soon find out" I replied

Our eyes met again. Two strangers bound by fate, each carrying secrets we weren't ready to share, yet.

He didn't say yes. But he didn't say no either.

This was going to be dangerous but fun

That night, I stood beneath the silver moon, barefoot on the cliff's edge. The wind was sharp against my skin, but I barely felt it. My mind was elsewhere. I closed my eyes, whispering the ancient chants I had been taught, words forbidden to maids but burned into my soul from my time as an assassin of the Bloodfang Clan.

When Kael appeared, I turned to him. My expression was calm, betraying none of the emotions that stormed inside me.

"Let's begin, we have a dangerous journey ahead of us," I said.

The moonlight touched the edges of the cliff, casting long shadows over the rough rocks below. The wind howled around me like a restless spirit, tugging at the edges of my stolen cloak. I stood barefoot on the cold stone, letting the energy of the night seep into my skin. It was the first time in years I felt alive.

I could still feel the hum of the ancient chants buzzing beneath my tongue. Words I wasn't supposed to remember let alone whisper. But blood remembers, even when the mind forgets. Blood always remembers.

I heard his footsteps long before he reached me.

Slow. Hesitant. But steady.

Kael.

He stopped a few feet behind me. I didn't have to turn around to know he was studying me, trying to make sense of the maid who wasn't acting like a maid.

"You came," I said, my voice calm, almost too calm.

"You didn't seem like someone who wasted words," he replied.

I turned to face him. His shirt was wrinkled, damp with sweat from earlier. The cut on his lip had dried. His eyes, though... still restless. Still caged.

"I'm not a warrior," he said quickly, defensive. "I've trained, sure. But not like the others. I wasn't raised for war."

"Neither was I," I lied easily. "But we adapt or die."

He squinted. "Why do I feel like there's a lot you're not saying?", " like you're hiding a lot".

Because there is.

Instead of answering, I stepped closer. "You're strong, Kael. You have power that would make even seasoned fighters tremble. But you fight like someone trying not to break."

He swallowed. "And what's wrong with restraint?"

"It's noble," I said, circling him slowly, "until it gets you killed."

His shoulders stiffened.

I let silence fill the space between us before breaking it with a whisper. "You're afraid of becoming a monster."

"I've seen monsters," he muttered. "I don't want to be one."

I stopped walking and looked him dead in the eye. "Then learn to control it before it controls you."

He held my gaze. "And you'll teach me?"

"I'll guide you. But this won't be gentle."

He nodded, almost too quickly. "Fine."

Without waiting, I moved behind him and struck-lightning fast, a precise jab to his side. He gasped and stumbled forward.

"What the hell?" he snapped.

"Lesson one," I said coolly. "Never trust your opponent-even if she brings you water."

He scowled but straightened up.

"Again," I said.

He lunged.

Sloppy. Predictable.

I danced around him like smoke, tapping his shoulder just hard enough to sting.

"You think like a human," I snapped. "But you're not one. Not entirely. Stop clinging to the rules of a world that fears what you are."

He turned sharply, rage flashing in his eyes. "And what are you, Lyra?"

I smiled faintly. "Someone who stopped pretending."

He stared at me, breathing hard. And for a moment, the air between us shifted-charged, crackling like the seconds before a storm.

"Again," I whispered.

This time, he didn't hesitate.

And I knew: the real training had begun.