Chapter 18

Lyra

For the second time that night, I found myself running through the forest. Only this time, instead of running toward something, I was running from something.

A raging werewolf, to be precise.

“Stop!” I cried out desperately, hoping that the wolf would snap out of whatever trance he was in. “Stop! Please!”

But the wolf, large and dark with eyes glowing red and foamy saliva dripping from its enormous maw, wasn’t listening. He didn’t respond, didn’t even show a hint of having heard my pleas—just kept chasing me like he was out for blood.

This had to be more than just one of Cassidy’s pranks. This wolf was completely feral.

And yet, there was something about this wolf that struck me. Something… familiar.

That jet black fur. That scent lying beneath the cloying musk of a beast that had spent far too long in wolf form…

“I swear I know him,” I thought to Jade as I raced through the forest, darting between trees, leaping over fallen logs, and barely managing to scramble around boulders while the wolf was practically nipping at my heels with how close he was. All vestiges of the wolf venom and antidote in my system were forgotten, replaced with pure adrenaline.

“Lyra, perhaps now isn’t the time for speculation—”

“But he’s so familiar,” I cut her off. The wolf’s jaws snapped just by my right ear, and I shrieked, veering off to the left and zig-zagging around a copse of fir trees to evade him. “Don’t you recognize his scent?”

Jade growled in frustration, but inhaled deeply. There was a silence, and a moment later, recognition snapped into place for both of us.

“Ronan?”

“Ronan?”

My father’s Gamma’s name slipped off my tongue like a prayer. But it couldn’t be… That was impossible. Last I had seen Ronan, he had been on death’s doorstep. There was so much blood seeping from that wound in his abdomen.

It was impossible for anyone to survive something like that. And the voidlike wolves that had slaughtered my family that night had been right there when I ran.

They would have killed him.

Unless… He somehow escaped.

Which meant that he was one of the feral survivors of Silvercrest.

The raging wolf’s jaws snapped again, this time catching my jacket. I screamed again and twisted away, and the sound of tearing fabric filled my ears. Cool wind kissed my back as my jacket partially tore free from my body.

With my heart in my throat, I surged forward, pushing my aching legs faster and faster. “Ronan!” I shouted over my shoulder. “Ronan, stop!”

But he—if he was even Ronan and I wasn’t just going crazy—didn’t stop.

Up ahead, something came into view. Stacks of stones and crumbling walls and the forever scent of charcoal. The old ruins.

I pushed myself one last time toward them, darting behind the half-destroyed wall of what looked to have once been a small cottage just as Ronan crashed into the clearing after me.

I held my breath and pressed myself flat against the stones. The wolf skidded to a stop just beyond me, back turned, looking around wildly in search of me.

Slowly, I began to creep backwards.

Crunch.

I shut my eyes and loosed a breath as my heel connected with a twig. Goddess-fucking-dammit. The wolf huffed and whipped its head around, hot steam from its nostrils spraying across my face. The scent was so acrid it nearly made me gag, but…

I swore that was Ronan’s scent underneath. I would have recognized it anywhere because it was the last living scent I’d smelled before I left my home forever.

Slowly, I cracked one eye open, then the other. The wolf’s face was mere inches away from my own, gleaming fangs bared in the moonlight. A low growl rumbled in his chest.

“Ronan,” I whispered, my voice trembling, “please… Don’t do this. This isn’t you.”

The wolf blinked. But continued to snarl, licking its chops.

“It’s me. Lyra,” I breathed. Tears were streaming down my cheeks now, one right after the other. “Don’t you remember me?”

Suddenly, the wolf froze. Red eyes flicked over me once, twice, three times. It pulled its head back and shook it. Again. Again. Again. More violently, as if trying to dispel the very thought of killing me. One red eye turned silver. Then the other.

And then, in an instant, the wolf no longer stood before me—but a man with silver eyes and jet black hair.

“Lyra…?”

I surged forward, catching Ronan before he could collapse to his knees. He slumped against me as I helped him over to the wall, settling him carefully against the stones.

“Ronan,” I breathed, hardly even daring to believe it. “It’s you. It’s really you. But how—I thought you were dead—”

Instead of answering, the Gamma took my face in his hands, looking me over for injury. Silver eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Goddess, you’re alive,” he whispered. His mouth curved into the faintest of smiles, but then quickly snapped back downward, fresh lines appearing between his dark brows. “Please tell me you haven’t told anyone who you really are.”

“What? No—of course not—Ronan, what’s going on? How are you here? Alive? And why were you about to kill me?”

Ronan’s throat bobbed. “I… I can’t say,” he replied, although whether because he didn’t want to or literally couldn’t, I wasn’t sure. “All I can say is that you must continue to keep your identity a secret. Dark forces are targeting those few of us who remain of Silvercrest. You must be careful. Promise me you’ll be careful.”

The intensity in his voice, so much like the night we parted ways, made me nod instinctively. Ronan let out a breath of relief and clutched my hands tightly, pressing them to his chest.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re alive,” he whispered. “I was so worried you didn’t make it—”

I laughed thickly through the tears that were blurring my vision. Ronan was alive. I could feel his heart beating through his chest, frantic but fucking beating.

It was a miracle.

There was so much I wanted to tell him. My past life, my death, my rebirth… But one question burned more than the others at the tip of my tongue.

“Ronan,” I said, pulling my head back, “you have to tell me how to break the seal on my wolf. I need to be able to shift. Please.”

Ronan blinked, eyes flicking over me. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen—”

“And you’re a first-year at Ravencrest, I take it?”

I nodded, and Ronan shook his head. “Too young. You must become designated Alpha before it’s safe. Are you taking the necessary courses?”

“Yes. But why wait? I’m the Silvercrest Alpha by rights—”

“It’s safer this way,” Ronan said, struggling to his feet and pulling me along with him. “Make it to your second year. Pass your Alpha courses. Get stronger. Then I’ll help you break the seal.”

“And then I can avenge my family.”

Ronan looked at me for a moment, and something like admiration mixed with a healthy dose of fear crossed his face. Finally, he nodded. “Yes.”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. One semester. I could manage that.

“Lyra!”

The sound of a voice calling my name made us both whip our heads around. Kael. Frantic, I grabbed Ronan’s shoulders. “You should go,” I whispered. “Feral Silvercrest refugees have been killing people, so you might be executed if you’re found.”

Ronan immediately understood the severity and nodded. Sighing, he grabbed the back of my neck and pressed a kiss to my forehead. I wanted to lean into him, wanted to draw comfort from the one person I had left from home, but there was no time.

“Lyra!” Kael shouted. “Lyra, where are you?!”

“I’ll come to you when the time is right,” Ronan whispered into my ear. “Until then, focus on growing your strength, pass your courses so you can be designated Alpha, and—” He chuffed as he pulled back. “Don’t die.”

“Don’t you die,” I said, grinning foolishly.

Ronan’s mouth lifted one last time before he turned and fled.

A moment later, the sound of footsteps approached. I turned to see Kael walk into the clearing. His eyes snapped onto mine, and he furrowed his brow.

“Who were you talking to?”