Chapter 5: The Alpha's Sacrifice

The clearing fell silent.

Rain continued to pour from the dark sky as Lord Varrick Ashbourne stepped forward.

His silver eyes reflected the glow of the ancient altar.

Around him stood nearly twenty armed warriors.

Black armor.

Silver weapons.

Professional killers.

Ronan immediately moved in front of Lyra.

Instinct.

Protection.

The urge was so powerful it surprised even him.

"Stay behind me," he said quietly.

Lyra didn't argue.

For the first time since leaving Blackthorn Castle, genuine fear overwhelmed her.

"Varrick," Ronan growled.

"Alpha King."

The older man smiled.

"It's been a long time."

"Not long enough."

"Still charming, I see."

Marcus stepped forward beside Ronan.

"What do you want?"

"The same thing I've wanted for twenty years."

Varrick's gaze shifted toward Lyra.

"The heir."

A chill ran through her body.

"I don't even know who you are," she said.

"That is your grandfather's fault."

"Leave her out of this."

"Impossible."

Varrick spread his arms.

"She is the last living Ashbourne."

"Explain," Ronan demanded.

The man laughed softly.

"Very well."

Lightning flashed overhead.

"Centuries ago, House Ashbourne ruled the most powerful werewolf kingdom in Europe."

"I know the history," Ronan replied.

"Clearly not all of it."

Varrick pointed toward Lyra.

"The royal bloodline never truly died."

"And?"

"The throne belongs to her."

Lyra stared at him.

"What throne?"

"The Moon Crown."

The name seemed to affect everyone.

Even Ronan's expression darkened.

"That's impossible," Marcus said.

"The Moon Crown is a myth."

"No."

Varrick smiled.

"It's very real."

"And hidden."

"Until now."

The man looked directly at Lyra.

"The altar awakened because of your blood."

"I don't understand any of this."

"You will."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"That wasn't a request."

The warriors raised their weapons.

Instantly the Blackthorn wolves prepared for battle.

The tension became unbearable.

"You can't win," Ronan warned.

"Perhaps."

"Leave."

"No."

"Then you're forcing my hand."

"And you're letting emotions cloud your judgment."

Varrick's smile widened.

"Tell me, Alpha King. Did you know she was your mate before or after you broke her heart?"

The words struck perfectly.

Ronan froze.

Lyra looked away.

The pain returned immediately.

"Interesting," Varrick said.

"Seems I touched a nerve."

"Enough."

"No, let's discuss it."

The older man laughed.

"You rejected the one person fate intended for you."

"I said enough."

"And now you're trying to save her?"

"Ronan," Marcus warned.

Too late.

The Alpha King's eyes flashed gold.

His wolf pushed forward.

Pure rage.

"You're making a mistake."

"Maybe."

"But not as big as yours."

Varrick suddenly raised his hand.

"Kill them."

Everything exploded into violence.

Warriors charged.

Wolves shifted.

Steel clashed against silver.

The forest became a battlefield.

Ronan transformed instantly.

His massive black wolf crashed into the enemy line.

Men scattered.

Trees splintered.

Blood stained the rain-soaked ground.

"Protect Lyra!" Marcus shouted.

Two warriors rushed toward her.

She backed away.

Fear threatened to overwhelm her.

Then something unexpected happened.

The crescent mark on her wrist glowed again.

Brighter than ever.

"Not now," she whispered.

The mark ignored her.

Silver energy spread across her skin.

The ancient altar responded.

Runes awakened.

The ground trembled.

"She's activating it!" one warrior screamed.

"Stop her!"

A blade flew toward Lyra.

Ronan saw it.

Everything slowed.

Distance.

Rain.

Noise.

None of it mattered.

Only her.

His mate.

"LYRA!"

Without hesitation he launched himself forward.

The silver blade struck.

But not Lyra.

Ronan.

The weapon buried itself deep into his side.

The Alpha King collapsed.

"RONAN!"

The scream escaped Lyra before she realized it.

The battlefield froze.

Marcus looked horrified.

Even Varrick seemed surprised.

Blood spread across the ground.

Dark.

Endless.

Lyra rushed to Ronan's side.

"No. No. No."

His breathing was weak.

Pain filled his eyes.

"Why would you do that?"

A faint smile appeared.

"Because it would have hit you."

"You're an idiot."

"Probably."

"You could die."

"I know."

Tears filled her eyes.

"Stop talking."

"Can't."

"Ronan—"

"Listen to me."

His voice weakened further.

"I was wrong."

"Don't."

"I hurt you."

"Please stop."

"And if I die before fixing that..."

"You're not dying."

"Lyra."

She grabbed his hand.

"You're not dying."

For the first time since hearing those terrible words in the hallway, she saw complete honesty in his eyes.

No pride.

No arrogance.

No Alpha King.

Only a man terrified of losing her.

"I searched everywhere," he whispered.

"Why?"

"Because every mile without you felt wrong."

Her heart cracked.

"You don't get to say things like that now."

"I know."

"You don't get to break me and suddenly become romantic."

A weak laugh escaped him.

"Fair point."

"You made me feel invisible."

"I know."

"You made me feel unwanted."

"I know."

"And I hated you."

"I know that too."

Rain mixed with her tears.

"Then why did you save me?"

Ronan looked at her as though the answer were obvious.

"Because I love you."

Silence.

The words hung in the air.

Raw.

Simple.

Real.

"You love me?"

"Took me long enough to realize it."

"Idiot."

"Definitely."

Before she could respond, the altar suddenly exploded with light.

Everyone turned.

Silver energy shot into the sky.

The entire forest shook violently.

"The Crown!" Varrick shouted.

"It's awakening!"

The ground split apart.

Ancient stone doors emerged beneath the altar.

A hidden chamber.

Sealed for centuries.

Varrick's eyes filled with greed.

"At last."

The old man stepped toward the opening.

"After all these years."

But the moment he crossed the threshold, something happened.

The silver light rejected him.

A powerful shockwave threw him backward.

"Impossible!"

"Only the heir," Lyra whispered.

The realization struck instantly.

The chamber recognized her blood.

Nobody else's.

Varrick slowly rose.

Hatred twisted his face.

"Then if I can't have the Crown..."

He drew a silver dagger.

"Neither can you."

And charged directly toward Lyra.