Chapter 4 LYRA

His movements were sharper now. Less hesitation. Less fear. Still unpolished, still sloppy in places-but he was trying. And trying meant he was close to awakening.

I parried his next strike with ease, sidestepping as his shoulder flew past me. "You're thinking too much," I said, breath steady. "Stop calculating and feel."

He grunted, turning on his heel to face me again. "Feeling gets you killed."

"No," I said, lifting my chin. "Feeling keeps you alive. Fear, rage, instinct-they're not your enemies. They're your pack. Use them."

Kael's jaw clenched. I could tell he was holding something back. Pride? Doubt? Grief? I didn't know. I didn't ask.

He lunged again, faster this time. I blocked with my forearm and used his own weight to throw him off balance. He hit the dirt with a thud and a curse.

I stood over him, letting him feel it. "You fight like a prince."

He rolled onto his elbow and looked up at me, panting. "Isn't that what I am?"

I crouched low, meeting his eyes. "That's the problem."

There was a flicker of something-hurt maybe. He masked it quickly.

I softened. Just slightly. "Being born an alpha means nothing if you can't survive your own bloodline."

He sat up, brushing dirt from his arms. "You speak like you've bled for it."

I looked away.

I had bled. I was killed. And not for thrones or honor, but because someone told me I had to. Because someone turned me into a weapon and called it purpose.

But I couldn't tell him that. Not yet.

"You're improving," I said, standing. "But you're still too soft on your feet. Trust your instincts. You don't need to think when the wolf inside you already knows."

Kael stood too, watching me with a strange intensity. "And what do you know about my wolf?"

I stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until we were just a breath apart. "I know he's not afraid of me."

The air between us shifted. Thickened.

He swallowed. "You're different."

I nodded. "I've been... many things."

There was a pause. He didn't move away. Neither did I.

"Why are you helping me, Lyra?" he asked softly.

I bit my tongue and offered him the only truth I could safely share. "Because I see something in you the others don't."

His gaze flicked to my lips, then back to my eyes. "What?"

I stepped back, breaking the spell. "Potential."

The moonlight painted silver across his cheekbones. He looked powerful, even when he didn't realize it. Especially then.

"I'll be back tomorrow," he said.

I nodded, hiding the part of me that wanted to stop him. To say don't go. That this-whatever this was-was dangerous. For both of us.

But instead, I turned my back and stared into the cliffside wind.

"Same time," I said.

He left in silence.

Only when his scent faded into the trees did I let my knees buckle.

And in the quiet, I whispered the name I had buried in the recesses of my soul.

Kael.

The woods knew who I was, even if I tried to forget.

The trees bowed in silence as I passed, the leaves trembling in a wind that didn't reach the ground. The brushing against my feet as I moved. I walked the path to the cliff without needing light. My feet remembered.

The assassin in me never really left. She just went quiet.

Tonight, the air was different. It felt like a warning or a welcome, I don't know which.

I arrived before Kael. Always. I liked watching him appear-shoulders tense, movements unsure, like he was stepping into a world he hadn't decided to trust yet. He didn't know that I waited for him the way wolves waited for the moon: silent, hidden, needing.

He came just as the last light died behind the mountains.

"Late," I said, arms crossed.

"You're early," he countered.

I arched my brow. "I'm never late."

That earned a smile.

We trained.

Harder this time. I pushed him. Taunted him. Made him angry.

Anger was useful. It chipped away at control. And underneath Kael's control lived something deadly. Something powerful.

Something I needed him to wake up.

He came at me with more fire now. Less hesitation. His claws-not fully shifted-scraped the edge of my sleeve. I dodged, flipped, landed behind him, then pressed my elbow into his spine until he hit the dirt.

We were both breathless.

"You're improving," I said.

He growled softly. "You're infuriating."

I smirked. "Good. You're starting to sound like a wolf."

Kael rolled onto his back and stared up at the stars, chest rising and falling. "Do you ever stop?" he asked.

I lay beside him-just far enough not to touch, but close enough to feel the heat between us. "I can't afford to."

There was a long pause. The kind that asked for honesty.

"You said once that you weren't trained for war," he said. "That you adapted."

"I did."

"Who trained you?"

I stared at the stars. So many stories written across the sky. So many secrets I'd spilled in blood and silence.

"My past isn't something I talk about."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want it to bleed into this." I turned to face him. "Into you."

His brows drew together. "You think I can't handle it?"

"I think you shouldn't have to."

For a moment, we just lay there. Breathing. Listening to the forest exhale around us.

And then it happened.

A pulse. Deep in my chest. Like something ancient had stirred.

I sat up quickly, heart pounding. My hand twitched, and for the briefest second, I saw it: a faint glow beneath the skin of my palm. Silver. Cold. Familiar.

The Moon Mark.

Not fully awakened. But reacting.

To him.

Kael sat up too, concerned. "Lyra?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing."

But I knew it wasn't.

Something was changing. Shifting.

Training him was waking me up, too.

My powers. My instincts. My curse.

And maybe... something else.

Something dangerously close to longing, and it may be the thing I fear the most.