Chapter 6: Shadows of Destiny

The night wrapped around Alyra like a shroud, her body sinking deeper into the warmth of her blankets; however, sleep was not the sanctuary it should have been. Instead, it carried her somewhere else.

She stood in a vast meadow, its golden grasses swaying gently, brushing against her bare arms as a soft breeze whispered through the air. The sky above stretched endlessly, painted in shades of twilight. The world pulsed with quiet magic urging her to move forward.

Then, a scent hit her hard and she had to stop in her tracks.

It was deep, intoxicating, and unmistakable. It had an earthy blend of smoldering embers, dark spice, and fresh pine. It filled her lungs, wrapping around her like a caress, awakening something ancient inside her.

Her pulse quickened.

Mate.

She felt him in her bones, in all her senses. She knew he was close. Her gaze darted through the shifting landscape, searching, aching to find him.

Standing at the edge of the tree line, his back turned toward her, was a figure cloaked in shadow. He was tall with broad shoulders and a stance that radiated both control and strength. The wind ruffled his dark, tousled hair, revealing glimpses of intricate tattoos that snaked along his forearms, etched into his sun-kissed skin. The black fabric of his shirt clung to his form, emphasizing the raw power beneath it.

Alyra felt as if she couldn’t breathe.

She stepped forward, drawn to him. His scent like a tether leading her straight for him. The bond hummed between them, alive, electric, and inevitable.

Sensing her presence, he turned toward her and the moment their eyes met, the world stilled.

His gaze was dark, intense, burning with something untamed. A pull unlike anything she had ever known wove between them, so powerful she could feel it crackling in the air, tightening around her like an invisible thread.

He was breathtaking. His chiseled jaw as dusted with stubble, his full lips were set in a firm line as if he was holding something dangerous back, and his dark eyes held so much passion she almost had to look away. Beneath the storm in his expression, she saw that there was something raw, something that was hers.

Before she could speak, he moved toward her, swift and sure, his long strides closing the distance in mere heartbeats.

Then he was so close she could feel the heat radiating from his skin and hear the steady thrum of his breath. His presence swallowed her whole, consuming, commanding.

He reached out, his rough, calloused fingers brushing gently against the silver strands of her hair, tucking them behind her ear with a tenderness that made her chest tighten.

Alyra’s breath hitched.

"Mate," she whispered, the word barely leaving her lips before his strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his strong body.

A shuddering sigh escaped her as she melted into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, her body attuned to the steady rise and fall of his chest. He smelled of danger and warmth, of things unspoken and promises yet to be made and somehow he scent was so comforting she could stay in it forever.

His grip tightened as though he couldn’t bear to let her go. It felt like he had been waiting for this moment as much as she had been.

She felt his breath against her temple, warm and steady as if he were memorizing the shape of her, the scent of her, the way their bodies fit together like a perfect puzzle.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the dream shattered.

A sudden force ripped him away from her. His warmth vanished like smoke in the wind.

“No!” Alyra gasped, reaching out for him, her fingers closing around empty air.

He was slipping into the darkness, his expression unreadable, his presence fading like a memory she couldn’t hold onto.

"Wait!" she cried, stumbling forward, but the world around her began to unravel, melting into nothingness.

The last thing she saw was his eyes, dark and searing, locking onto hers with an unspoken promise.

Then... darkness.

---

Alyra jerked awake, her chest heaving and her heart pounding.

She was back in her bed, tangled in her sheets, her skin was damp with sweat. The remnants of the dream still clung to her: the intoxicating scent, the phantom touch, and the echo of a connection that felt too real to be imagined.

Her mate.

She had seen him.

And even now, awake and breathless, she could feel him out there, waiting.

A knock at the door sent her heart slamming against her ribs.

It was far too late for visitors. A prickle of unease traced down her spine.

Another knock couple of knocks came, firmer this time.

Forcing herself to move, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and padded cautiously toward the door. Her fingers curled around the knob as she inhaled deeply.

Slowly, she cracked the door open and found Riley standing there.

His hazel eyes, usually filled with warmth, were dark, clouded with something unsettling. He shifted his weight, his fingers twitching at his sides, as though battling some internal war.

"Riley?" she murmured, still breathless from the dream. "What are you doing here?"

He hesitated, then said, "Can we talk?"

Alyra swallowed hard, stepping back to let him inside. The moment he crossed the threshold, a thick tension settled between them, pressing into the small space.

She closed the door. "What’s wrong?"

Riley exhaled, raking a hand through his messy hair. "It’s about the ball."

Alyra’s stomach twisted not knowing where he was going with this.

She crossed her arms, trying to steady herself. "What about it?"

He hesitated, then met her gaze. "I overheard my father talking with the Alpha today. There’s more to this than just the King looking for a mate."

A chill crept into her veins. "What do you mean?"

Riley’s jaw clenched, "The King isn’t just searching for a Luna. He’s looking for someone specific. And Alyra because of your wolf... they think it’s you."

The air thickened between them.

Alyra took a slow, measured breath, her mind racing. "Why me?" she whispered, but deep down, she already knew the answer.

She was different and fate had painted a target on her back the moment she was born.

Riley stepped closer, his voice low and urgent. "I don’t know what they suspect, but if they’re watching you, it means you need to be careful. If they think you’re a threat…" He trailed off, his meaning clear.

Alyra’s throat went dry.

"What do I do?"

Riley exhaled sharply. "You go to the ball. You act like nothing is wrong. And you find out what they’re looking for—before they find out about you."

A shiver ran down her spine.

The dream. The pull.

It was all somehow connected.

Suddenly, the ball wasn’t just about finding her mate anymore.

It was now about survival.