Lyra's mind was trapped in a storm of wolves and blood that swallowed her whole. She was caught in her last memory before blackness: teeth snapping, claws raking, growling, the boy in the forest falling beneath the monsters while she had screamed herself hoarse and that was how she woke up, screaming and trembling.
When she opened her eyes, the ceiling above her was not the night sky with the shivering trees, but dark beams of wood carved with runes she didn't recognize. Flickering fire light painted the room in shifting gold and shadow. The scent of herbs and smoke clung to the air. She realized she was lying on a rough bed covered with fur blankets, her wrists free, though her body felt like it had been wrung dry of strength.
She was surprised to find herself alive after the encounter with the wolves in the forest and she wondered how had she gotten away.
Movement at her side startled her. An older woman, gray-haired and lined with age, leaned forward and peered at her without any interest. Her face was neither cruel nor kind, just tired, as if life had beaten the softness out of her years ago.
"You are awake," the woman said, her voice rasping like dry leaves. She lifted a clay cup and pressed it into Lyra's trembling hands. "Drink. Slowly."
Lyra almost flung the water away in suspicion, but the fire in her throat overpowered every thought. She drank deeply and greedily, the water dripping down her chin as the coolness rushed down in a flood, making her cough and choke, then drink again until the cup was empty. The older woman took it back without a word.
"Where… where am I?" Lyra croaked.
The woman's lips pressed thin, as though she weighed whether to answer at all. At last, she said, "Ironfang Castle. The heart of the mountains. The stronghold of the Five."
Lyra blinked at her, confused. "The Five?"
"The Alphas," the woman said. The word alone carried dread, as if she had spoken of gods or devils.
Ironfang, the man at auction had mentioned that name. The word felt sharp in Lyra's mind, dangerous. She remembered flashes of the prevous the wolves circling, the laughter in their howls, the way they had toyed with her panic, the way they had torn into that boy. Her stomach turned. "Why… why am I here? How did i get here?"
The woman's eyes flickered, and for the first time there was something like pity there. She sat back on her stool with a sigh. "Do you think you're the first here? Many others like you have been brought here. Girls. Women. All tools to bear heirs."
Lyra's skin crawled. "Brought here for what?"
The woman looked at her as if she already knew the answer but needed to hear it spoken. the silence was laden with a tension that gripped Lyra.
Lyra swallowed hard. "Why? What do they want from me?"
"The Alphas are desperate," the woman said. Her hands folded in her lap, knuckles bone-white. "No pups have been born in a hundred years. The race is dying out. It is said that the moon goddess Selene cursed the werewolves and that curse runs deep." Her eyes darkened. "They bring females here, believing, hoping that one might carry the heir that will save them all."
The words crashed against Lyra's ears. Her stomach twisted in horror, her circumstances becoming more and more obvious. "No," she whispered. "That's not possible. I'm not… I'm not one of them, i can't give them an heir."
The woman gave her a long, sorrowful look. "So many have said the same."
Lyra's voice cracked. "What happens to them? The others? The ones who fail?"
Silence. The woman's face hardened, but her eyes betrayed the truth. Grief, anger, fear. She didn't need to answer. The grim stillness was enough. And this was to be her fate?
Lyra's heart pounded as the room closed in around her. Her breath came too fast, her palms damp. She wanted to scream at the woman, to demand she take her away, but the woman was already rising, collecting the empty cup.
"You should rest while you can," the woman said softly. "They will come for you soon." And with that, she slipped from the room, the door shutting behind her with a heavy and final thud.
The silence that followed pressed down like a suffocating weight. Lyra dragged herself upright, legs trembling, and staggered toward the window. Her bare feet touched cold stone, every step reminding her of how fragile she was in this place.
The window was narrow, barred with iron, but when she pressed her face close and looked out, her stomach dropped. She was high, impossibly high, the castle carved into the cliffs of jagged mountains. The world below stretched in a dizzying fall, forests sprawling like a dark and impossible sea. The moon hung swollen and silver, pouring its glow across the land like a watchful eye.
She was trapped without a means to escape.
Her throat tightened. She pressed her forehead to the cool iron bars, biting her lip until she tasted blood. Somewhere below, wolves howled, their voices rising in cruel harmony. The sound clawed at her nerves, dragging her back into the memory of the hunt, the boy's scream, his blood on the leaves, his body falling, laying there so still and dead.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
He is dead. They tore him apart. He's gone and you could do nothing because you are feeble and stupid, he died because of you. Just like mama did. all you do is bring misfortune to people around you, you should just die.
As she thought sadly of the handsome boy she had known for only a short time but who had affected her so much. a tear dropped from her eye and rolled down her cheek.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
The voice slid out of the shadows, low and smooth. Lyra spun, her breath caught in her throat.
She looked wildly around the empty room, wondering if she was hearing things. Then a figure stepped out from the far corner where the darkness had seemed thicker than the rest. He moved like smoke, consolidating into form, until she could see him clearly.
A man, tall, slender, his silky black hair curling and falling to his jaw. His eyes gleamed pale,bright and striking, and his mouth curled into something between a smile and a sneer.
But it wasn't his presence that made Lyra's blood run cold. It was recognition.
Her voice shook as her eyes widened. "You…"
His smile widened. "Yes, me."