Chapter 2 Whispers in the mirror

Lyra's Point of view

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the moonlight bleeding across the ceiling in threads of silver.

I wasn't in the observatory anymore.

Blinking hard, I sat up slowly. My entire body ached, like I'd been pulled through another dimension and then shoved back into this one without warning. My mouth was dry, my limbs heavy. The room around me was unfamiliar for a split second-until I realized I was back in the dorm.

The covers were kicked halfway off my bed. The pendant that had seared my skin last night? Gone. No sign of it anywhere.

But the burn mark on my collarbone remained.

I reached up, tracing the strange crescent outline beneath my skin. It pulsed faintly, like it was alive.

Someone cleared their throat.

I turned sharply.

Naomi stood by the window, arms crossed, eyes red-rimmed like she hadn't slept all night.

"You were out for sixteen hours," she said, her voice too steady to be casual. "They carried you out of the observatory. You weren't the only one. Three others collapsed. I thought you-"

She stopped herself.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed. "What happened to the others?"

"Still sleeping. One of them is in the infirmary, screaming in his sleep like something's chasing him."

I swallowed. My throat still burned like I'd swallowed smoke.

"What about the Headmistress?" I asked. "Professor Cael? Did they say anything about... what we saw?"

Naomi walked over and handed me a glass of water. Her hand trembled slightly. "No one's saying anything. But there's talk. That it wasn't just moon sickness. That something awakened last night. Something ancient."

I looked at her, heart thudding. "You saw it too, didn't you?"

"The mirror?" she whispered. "Yeah. Just for a second. It shifted. Your reflection wasn't yours."

I nodded, feeling goosebumps race up my arms.

"She spoke to me," I said. "She said I wasn't meant to survive."

Naomi didn't laugh. She didn't even look surprised. Instead, she looked... guilty. "I've heard that voice too. In my dreams. For weeks now. Whispering things I don't understand."

I stood, my legs wobbly but working. "We need to go back."

"What? To the observatory?"

"No," I said. "To the source. The old tower."

Naomi's brows knit together. "Lyra, that tower is sealed off. It's been abandoned for years."

"Exactly," I whispered. "And I think that's where all of this started."

---

It was dusk by the time we made it to the tower.

The path was half-forgotten, covered in vines and fallen leaves. Naomi complained the whole way about breaking school rules, but I knew she was just scared. I was too. But curiosity burned hotter than fear.

The entrance to the tower groaned when we pushed it open. Inside, it smelled of dust, rot, and old secrets. A spiral staircase wound upward into the dark like a ribcage. We climbed in silence, our footsteps echoing against the ancient stone.

At the top, the room was small and round, with a shattered mirror in the center-different from the ornate one in the observatory. This one was cracked in dozens of places, as if something had shattered through it from the inside.

And on the floor, etched in dried silver wax, was a symbol.

The same one that had burned onto my skin.

Naomi inhaled sharply. "What is this place?"

I didn't know how to explain the sensation humming in my bones. The ache in my joints. The pull I felt toward the broken mirror. Like it was calling something buried deep inside me.

Suddenly, the air thickened.

The temperature dropped.

Then I heard it.

A whisper.

Not in the room. Inside me.

"You are the vessel. The blood remembers."

I turned to Naomi, but her eyes had gone wide. She was backing toward the stairs.

"Lyra," she breathed. "Look-behind you."

I spun.

The mirror was glowing faintly.

Not the broken glass-but the fragments on the floor were rearranging themselves.

Piece by piece, they slid into place until they formed a reflection.

My reflection.

But not me.

Her hair was longer. Her eyes were glowing silver. And behind her, a constellation shimmered in the shape of a wolf's head.

Then she spoke.

"You are the Moonborne. The first in centuries. The key."

I stumbled back. My legs hit something solid. Naomi caught me before I could fall.

"What did she say?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"I don't-she said I'm the key. To something. She called me Moonborne."

Naomi's face went pale.

"That's a myth," she whispered. "Moonborne are said to be direct descendants of the celestial wolves. Purebloods. But they were all wiped out during the Massacre of Silverhowl."

"Maybe not all," I said, trembling.

Suddenly, the ground beneath us trembled faintly.

We turned-and saw someone standing in the stairwell.

Cassian.

He stepped into the room slowly, as if he'd been listening the whole time.

"I thought I'd find you here," he said casually, brushing a leaf from his hoodie. "You two really don't like staying put, do you?"

I swallowed. "How long have you been following us?"

He didn't answer. Just walked to the mirror and studied it.

Then-he reached into his pocket and pulled out something small.

My pendant.

The one that had burned into my skin.

My stomach dropped. "You-where did you get that?"

"I found it outside the observatory," he said, but there was something off in his voice. Too smooth. Too rehearsed.

Naomi moved in front of me, subtly shielding me. "We should go."

Cassian smiled. "Should you?"

That's when I noticed it.

His eyes.

For a split second-just one flicker-they weren't brown.

They were silver.

Not glowing like mine in the mirror.

Flat. Cold. Like metal.

"You're one of them," I whispered.

He tilted his head, amused. "One of who?"

But I already knew.

Cassian wasn't just a student. He wasn't even just a werewolf.

He was something else.

Something that had been watching us since we arrived.

And now, he had the pendant.

The key.

And I had no idea what he planned to do with it.