Iris Thorne POV
The Shadowlands didn't want her alive.
Everything in this place was wrong. The trees twisted in ways that made her head hurt. The ground was poisoned black, like something had died here long ago and never stopped rotting. Even the air felt dangerous, like it wanted to choke her.
Iris had been walking for three days.
Or maybe it was longer. Time worked differently here. The blood moon stayed high in the sky, never moving, never setting. Just hanging there like it was watching everything she did and judging her for it.
Hunger ate at her belly. Real hunger, not the small kind from missing a meal. This was the kind that made her think about eating things she shouldn't eat. Poisoned plants. Strange mushrooms growing in dark places. Anything to make the emptiness stop.
Cold seeped into her bones despite it being late spring. The Shadowlands didn't follow normal seasons. They had their own rules. Their own cruelty.
She heard the rogues before she saw them.
Low growls in the darkness. The sound of wolves moving between the twisted trees. There were at least three of them, maybe more. She could smell their hunger matching her own. Could sense their excitement at finding prey.
A girl without a wolf. Without a pack. Without anything to protect her.
Easy hunting.
Iris stumbled faster through the undergrowth, her torn dress catching on branches. Her feet were bleeding and blistered. Her body was so tired it felt like moving through water.
One of the rogues stepped out in front of her.
He was massive. Scarred. His eyes were the color of old blood. He smiled like he'd just won the greatest prize of his life.
"Little lost pup." His voice was rough and cruel. "What are you doing all alone in our territory?"
Iris didn't answer. She didn't have anything to say that would help her. No wolf meant no fight. No pack meant no rescue. She was just a girl in a borrowed dress who didn't belong anywhere.
She turned to run.
But there were more of them now. Blocking every direction. Closing in like the darkness was squeezing tighter around her.
This was how she died then. Not with Kael's rejection playing over and over in her head. But here. Torn apart by wolves that didn't even know her name.
The rogue closest to her crouched, ready to pounce.
Then something happened.
A blast of power came out of nowhere. Not physical. Not exactly. It felt like the air itself was pushing back against them. The rogues flew backward like they'd been hit by an invisible wall. The one who was about to attack her yelped and scrambled away, transforming into his wolf form and running.
The others followed, their tails between their legs.
Iris stood alone in the darkness, breathing hard, confused about what had just happened.
Had she done that?
No. That was impossible. She didn't have a wolf. Didn't have power. Couldn't do anything but exist and fail at even that.
She walked forward because standing still meant thinking, and thinking meant remembering.
The sun never rose. The blood moon just got higher and higher until it seemed like it was directly above her, staring down like an eye of judgment.
By the third night, her legs wouldn't carry her anymore.
Iris collapsed on the ground near what looked like a small cottage made of dark stone. Strange herbs hung around the doorway. The place smelled wrong in a different way. Not rotten. But old. Ancient. Like it existed outside of regular time.
She didn't have the strength to care.
She just wanted to sleep and never wake up.
The door to the cottage opened.
A woman stepped out. The same woman from the forest. Lyanna. She looked at Iris for one long moment, like she was reading something written on her skin that no one else could see.
Then Lyanna grabbed her and dragged her inside.
The cottage was small but warm. A fire burned in the center. Herbs hung from the ceiling. Jars of things Iris couldn't identify lined shelves. Everything smelled alive and powerful and wrong in that ancient way.
Lyanna laid her on a soft bed near the fire.
The witch didn't ask questions. She just brought water in a clay cup and held it to Iris's lips. The water was cold and sweet and the best thing Iris had ever tasted. Lyanna helped her drink slowly, like Iris was something fragile that might break if handled too roughly.
Then she bandaged Iris's wounds. Her hands were gentle but her movements were efficient. A healer's hands. Someone who had done this a thousand times before.
Iris watched her work and felt something crack open inside her chest. Not the bad kind of crack that happened when Kael rejected her. A different kind. The kind that let things out instead of crushing everything in.
"Why are you helping me?" Iris's voice came out hoarse.
Lyanna didn't look up from bandaging her feet. "Because you were worth saving."
"I'm not worth anything."
"That's what they told you. Doesn't make it true." Lyanna finished and sat back. "Drink more water. Rest. We'll talk when you're stronger."
But Iris couldn't rest. Couldn't stop the words from coming out.
She told Lyanna everything. About Gran and the stories about fated mates. About standing in line at the temple feeling like finally something good was going to happen. About the way Kael's eyes had met hers for that one moment and she thought he would step forward.
About the rejection. The way he said unworthy like she was less than human.
About Sable banishing her. About the Shadowlands and the rogues and three days of walking toward death.
Lyanna listened without interrupting. She just sat there by the fire and listened like Iris's story mattered. Like her pain meant something.
When Iris finished, they sat in silence for a long time.
Finally Lyanna moved. She stood up and walked to a shelf lined with ancient books. She pulled one down and came back to the bed.
The cover was made of something that looked like leather but felt older. Pages inside were written in languages Iris didn't recognize. But there were pictures. Old paintings of wolves and women and something that looked like moonlight made solid.
"What am I looking at?" Iris asked.
Lyanna opened to a specific page. The painting showed a woman with violet eyes and long black hair. The woman was glowing with silver light that made the whole picture seem alive.
It looked like Iris.
But that was impossible.
"That's the Moonbound Queen." Lyanna's voice changed when she spoke about it. Became reverent. "She appears once every thousand years. Born into the wolf kingdoms, chosen by the Moon Goddess herself."
"That's not me."
"No. Not yet." Lyanna closed the book and looked at Iris directly. "But it could be."
"You don't know anything about me."
"I know more than you think." Lyanna stood and walked to the window, looking out at the twisted forest. "I've lived in the Shadowlands for longer than you can imagine, child. I can feel power when it's near me. And you have power. So much power it's almost choking you."
Iris wanted to laugh. Wanted to tell her she was insane.
"I don't have anything. I don't even have a wolf."
Lyanna turned back to her, and her violet eyes seemed to glow in the firelight.
"You were never wolfless girl." She walked closer, her voice dropping to something that sounded like ancient magic itself. "Something sleeps inside you. Something so powerful that your human body couldn't contain it when you were weak. But Now that you've been broken. Now that you have nothing left to lose, It's waking up."