Lyra
The window frame was forced open with a sharp, splintering crack, the sound slicing through the suffocating silence of my prison.
I felt the cold night draft hit my feverish skin, but I kept my eyes clamped tight, holding my breath as if remaining still could make whatever nightmare was coming disappear.
Every survival instinct honed over years of abuse screamed at me to cry out.
To call for the guards outside the door.
To fight, to claw, to cling to life by any means necessary.
Staying alive had always been my singular rule.
But a heavier, darker exhaustion had taken root in my chest, making the very act of drawing breath feel like a chore.
I was so tired.
Tired of terror.
Tired of bleeding.
Tired of begging for a mercy that was never coming.
If an assassin had finally come to end me, so be it.
I would rather take a blade to the heart from a stranger than wake up tomorrow as the bound bride of the Alpha triplets.
A soft, hesitant touch brushed against my upper arm.
I flinched violently, every muscle in my body locking up in anticipation of a blow, but the strike never landed.
The hand was gentle.
Trembling.
Careful.
Still, I didn’t open my eyes.
I lay suspended in the dark, my heart hammering against my ribs, counting the agonizing seconds between each shallow breath.
Then a voice reached my ears—a low, urgent whisper that cut straight through my panic.
“Lyra, it’s me.”
My chest hitched.
“Bella!” I gasped, my eyes flying open in utter shock.
There she was—really there—perched precariously on the stone sill of the high window, her hair wild from the wind, her dark eyes wide with terror and brimming with unshed tears.
For a heartbeat, I could only stare at her, terrified that if I blinked, my broken mind would erase her like a cruel hallucination.
Relief hit me like a tidal wave, so intense it physically hurt.
Tears spilled over my lashes, tracking down my bruised face.
Bella scrambled down from the sill without a second thought, wrapping her arms around my shoulders as tightly as my chained wrists allowed.
“Are you all right?” she whispered, her voice shaking violently as her tears soaked into my shirt.
Seeing her break down shattered the last of my resolve.
A jagged pain pierced my chest, and a broken sob tore out of my throat.
I gave a faint nod, though the gesture was a complete lie.
“I’m here,” she said rapidly, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes.
“It’s going to be okay, Lyra.
I’m getting you out of this territory right now.”
“What?” The word slipped out in a breathless gasp.
I stared at her, convinced my ears were playing tricks on me.
She leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a barely audible thread.
“I know an ancient transposition spell.
One that will switch our places in an instant.”
My heart hammered against my ribs.
“What spell?” I whispered.
Bella hesitated, her eyes darting nervously toward the heavy oak door before returning to mine.
“You know why this pack has always treated me like a disease,” she said softly.
“Why they target me…
why they call me a monster.”
I nodded slowly.
“Because of your mother’s bloodline.”
“Yes.” She swallowed down her fear.
“She taught me the old tongue before she died.
Not everything, but enough for this.” Her fingers tightened around mine, cold and trembling.
“This magic will release you.
Right now.”
For a fleeting second, a blinding ray of hope flared in my chest.
Freedom.
Escaping the territorial borders.
Leaving this hell forever.
But the light died as quickly as it came, smothered by pure terror for the girl holding my hands.
“Bella, no.” I shook my head, the iron links rattling against the bedpost.
“I will not let you sacrifice yourself for me.”
Her eyes softened, shining with a quiet, terrifying resolve.
“Lyra…”
“No!” I insisted, my hoarse voice cracking under the strain.
“You are all I have left.
I won’t let them kill you!”
She fell silent, the heavy weight of everything we had endured together hanging in the cold draft blowing through the open window, while time bled away second by second.
“I cannot sit by and watch them destroy you, Lyra!
Don’t you understand?!” Bella whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, yet grounded in a fierce strength I had never seen in her before.
“No…
I don’t, Bella!” Tears blurred my vision as I shook my head helplessly.
My throat felt raw, my chest collapsing inward.
“You are the only person in this entire pack who ever cared about me!” I sobbed, my voice fracturing completely.
“They already view you as an outcast!
The only reason the former Alpha permitted you to remain in the village was on one absolute condition!” I choked on the words, my body shuddering against the iron bindings.
“That you never, ever cast a spell within these borders!”
The realization of what she was doing crushed the air from my lungs.
“They will execute you on the spot, Bella!
Please…
I am begging you, don’t do this!” The thought of watching her die because of my plight was infinitely worse than any torment waiting for me at the altar.
Bella stared down at me in quiet stillness.
Her eyes shimmered with intense sorrow, conflict, and a dark, unyielding finality.
Slowly, she withdrew her hands, letting her fingers slide away from mine.
The warm comfort I had clung to vanished, leaving me exposed to the freezing room.
Before I could plead again, she straightened her posture, her jaw setting in stone.
Her lips began to move.
The words that flowed from her tongue were ancient, guttural, and strange—a rhythmic incantation that made the ambient light in the room flicker and warp.
The very air began to vibrate with invisible power, a faint, violet luminescence curling around her fingers.
Panic surged through my veins like fire.
“Bella…
stop!
Don’t!” I tried to scream, but my dry throat produced only a ragged whisper.
In a split second, reality shifted violently.
The agonizing pressure around my raw wrists vanished.
The bite of the iron chains dissolved, falling away and clattering loudly against the floorboards.
I stumbled forward, my legs nearly giving out beneath me as the sudden freedom threw off my balance.
I was no longer tied to the bed.
I was standing near the window sill.
My mouth hung open as I stared down at my bare, bleeding wrists, my brain frantically trying to comprehend what had just taken place.
“Bella, what did you just—”
Before I could finish, an invisible wave of raw magic slammed into my shoulders.
I gasped as the force shoved me backward through the window frame, sending me tumbling out onto the narrow stone ledge outside.
“Run, Lyra!” Bella cried out, her voice finally breaking into tears as she stood inside the room, her wrists now bound by the dark iron chains.
A heavy dark scarf was flung through the frame, landing against my chest.
I grabbed the fabric on instinct, clutching it to my throat.
“Go build a life!” she wept, her face a mix of heartbreaking sorrow and ultimate triumph.
“Don’t look back for me!
Never come back to this place!”
“Bella!” I shrieked, reaching my hand back toward the window.
But she simply stepped back into the shadows, locking her eyes onto mine as she accepted the terrible price of her loyalty.
With the absolute last surge of adrenaline left in my broken body, I pulled the scarf over my face, turned toward the tree line, and ran.
I plunged into the pitch-black forest, my feet tearing over roots and sharp stone, my heart hammering like a trapped bird.
I didn’t look back at the packhouse.
Not once.
Because I knew if I turned around, my courage would shatter—and Bella’s sacrifice would mean nothing.