Chapter 3 WHERE SHADOWS DANCE

Lyra's POV

The claw marks haunted my dreams. Four perfect lines carved into wood, carved into my mind. When morning came, I felt like I'd been running all night. My phoenix magic barely flickered when I called it. Just tired sparks where there should have been flames.

"You look terrible," Mother said at breakfast, but her voice sounded wrong. Flat. "Eat something."

"I'm not hungry." My stomach churned. "Where's Selene?"

"Getting beauty sleep. She was up late." Father didn't look up from his newspaper. "Big day tomorrow."

Big day. My wedding was tomorrow, and I felt like I was drowning in honey. Everything too sweet, too thick, too slow.

"I'm going to surprise Damon with breakfast," I announced.

"That's nice, dear." Mother's smile never reached her eyes.

I grabbed the basket I'd prepared and practically ran to my car. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong. But maybe seeing Damon would fix it. Maybe his arms around me would make the world make sense again.

Blackthorne Keep looked different in the morning light. Darker somehow, even with the sun shining. The guards waved me through without question. Of course they did. Tomorrow I'd be their Luna.

I used my key to Damon's private study, balancing the breakfast basket on my hip. "Surprise! I brought your favorite..."

The door opened and my magic exploded.

Not sparked. Not flared. Exploded.

Books flew off shelves like angry birds. Windows shattered outward in a spray of glass that caught the morning sun. Papers whirled around me in a tornado of white, and through it all, my phoenix fire screamed. Danger. Run. Get out.

"What the..." I dropped the basket, fighting to control my magic.

But it wouldn't listen. It raged against something I couldn't see or understand, burning brighter and wilder until I had to close my eyes against my own light.

When the chaos finally settled, I stood in a destroyed room. Breathing hard. Shaking.

"Okay," I whispered to myself. "Okay. You're okay. Just... wedding stress. Magical wedding stress."

I started picking up papers, trying to put things back where they belonged. That's when I saw them. Architectural plans spread across Damon's desk. My hands froze.

They were blueprints of Moonhaven. My home. But why would Damon have...

Red marks dotted the plans. The kitchen. The great hall. Mother's rose garden. And there, circled three times in crimson ink: Grandmother's sealed ritual chamber. The one room in our entire estate that no one was allowed to enter.

"No," I breathed, leaning closer. More marks. More locations. They made a pattern. A circle. And at the very center...

My bedroom.

Voices in the hallway made me jump. Familiar voices getting closer.

"...can't believe we have to wait one more day." That was Selene.

I dove behind the massive bookshelf, pressing myself into the corner just as the door opened.

"Patience, love." Damon's voice made my heart stop. Love? "After tomorrow night, everything changes."

Through a gap between books, I watched my sister walk into the room. Her silver hair was a mess. Her dress was backwards. And her lips... her lips were swollen and red like she'd been...

No.

Damon followed her, still buttoning his shirt. My Damon. My fiance. He reached for my sister and pulled her against him, kissing her like... like...

Like he kissed me.

My magic went silent. Completely, utterly silent. Like it had died.

"The preparations are almost complete," Damon murmured against Selene's mouth. "Father has the final components arriving tonight."

"Good." Selene's hands tangled in his hair. "I'm tired of pretending. Tired of watching you with her."

"After tomorrow night, we won't have to hide anymore." He kissed her again. Deeper. "She'll be gone, and you'll have what was always meant to be yours."

They stayed there, wrapped around each other, for what felt like hours but was probably minutes. Then they left together, his hand on the small of her back. Possessive. Comfortable. Like they'd done this a thousand times.

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The destroyed room spun around me, and I wondered if I was still dreaming. Still trapped in nightmares about claw marks and cold pendants.

A piece of paper on the floor caught my eye. It must have fallen from Selene's pocket. With shaking hands, I picked it up.

The page was torn from an old book. The kind Grandmother used to read to us when we were little, before she died. But this wasn't a fairy tale. The words at the top made my blood freeze:

SOUL EXTRACTION: The Forceful Removal of Magical Essence

Below were notes in Selene's perfect handwriting. Times. Measurements. Ingredients. And at the bottom, underlined twice: Subject must be conscious for optimal extraction. Silence spells recommended.

I looked back at the architectural plans. At the red marks forming a perfect circle. A ritual circle.

With my bedroom at the center.