16

Lyra's flight triggered instant chaos. Warriors leaped from their seats, some pursuing directly while others moved to block the compound's exits. Shouts filled the air as pack members who had been sitting in judgment moments before transformed into a coordinated hunting force.

But Lyra had a head start and the desperate speed of someone running for their life.

I found myself moving without conscious decision, the power still singing in my veins from the trial. Silver light flickered around my feet as I ran, lending me speed beyond what my human form should have possessed.

Lyra was fast, weaving between buildings with the practiced ease of someone who knew every shortcut and hiding place in the compound. But I was faster, the supernatural energy propelling me forward like an arrow seeking its target.

She burst from the compound proper into the wilderness beyond, shifting to wolf form mid-stride. Her dark coat blended with the forest shadows as she bounded between the trees, but the power coursing through me let me track her movement even when she disappeared from sight.

Behind me, I could hear Darius and his warriors following, their voices calling orders and coordinating the pursuit. But they were too far back to help if Lyra decided to turn and fight.

The chase led deeper into the forest, over rocky ridges and through dense undergrowth that would have slowed a normal pursuer. But whatever I was becoming, normal no longer applied.

Lyra reached a clearing perhaps a mile from the compound and spun to face me, shifting back to human form with desperate fury. In her hand, she held a curved dagger that gleamed with an oily sheen poisoned, most likely.

"You should have minded your own business, Bloodfang," she snarled, her chest heaving with exertion.

I stopped at the clearing's edge, my own breath coming surprisingly steady despite the breakneck pursuit. "Why, Lyra? Why betray your own pack?"

Her laugh was bitter, broken. "My pack? The pack that let my brother die on a meaningless border patrol while the leadership sat in comfortable halls? The pack that treats servants like disposable tools?"

"So you decided to kill more of them?"

"I decided to make them pay!" She raised the dagger, its poisoned edge catching the dappled sunlight. "Every patrol I betrayed, every warrior who died they deserved it for letting Marcus die!"

The grief in her voice was real, raw with pain that had festered into something toxic. But understanding her motivation didn't make her actions forgivable.

"Your brother wouldn't have wanted this," I said, trying to find some way to reach through her fury. "He wouldn't have wanted you to become a murderer."

"Don't you dare speak of him!" Lyra lunged forward, the dagger aimed at my heart.

The power responded instinctively. Silver light erupted from my hands, forming a barrier that caught the blade inches from my chest. The poison sizzled against the supernatural energy, neutralized before it could reach my skin.

Lyra stumbled backward, staring in shock at her ruined weapon. "What are you?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out," I admitted.

She reached for something at her belt another weapon, or perhaps a signal device to call for extraction. But before she could use it, the sound of approaching hoofbeats announced Darius's arrival.

He burst into the clearing with Agatha and Marcus close behind, their faces grim with the knowledge of betrayal. When Lyra saw them, her shoulders sagged in defeat.

"It's over," Darius said quietly, dismounting from his horse. "Surrender, and you'll face pack justice. Run, and I'll let my warriors hunt you through the forest."

Lyra looked around the clearing, trapped between wolves who had once been her packmates and the woman she had tried to frame for her crimes. For a moment, I thought she might choose to fight, to die on her feet rather than face the consequences of her treachery.

Instead, she sank to her knees, the fight going out of her like air from a punctured lung.

"They killed him," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Marcus was just a messenger, barely eighteen summers old. He died because some patrol leader couldn't be bothered to provide adequate escort. And when I asked for justice, they told me it was the fortune of war."

Darius approached her slowly, his expression softening slightly with understanding if not forgiveness. "So you decided to deliver your own justice?"

"I decided to make them hurt the way I hurt. Every piece of intelligence I sold, every ambush I enabled they were all payment for Marcus's blood."

The confession hung in the air like a funeral dirge. Around the clearing, Nightshade wolves who had fought and bled together now faced the reality that one of their own had been systematically betraying them for months.

"How many died because of your information?" Agatha asked, her voice deadly quiet.

Lyra was silent for a long moment. Then: "Thirty-seven confirmed kills. Twice that number wounded."

The number hit like a physical blow. Seventy-four casualties because of one woman's grief and rage, turned into a weapon against her own people.

"The penalty for treason is death," Marcus said flatly. "By pack law, you forfeit your life for these crimes."

But Darius held up his hand, his gray eyes studying Lyra with something approaching pity. "The law is clear. But execution serves only vengeance, not justice."

He turned to address me, surprising everyone present. "Selene of Bloodfang, you exposed this treachery when we were prepared to condemn an innocent. What would you have us do with the real traitor?"

The question caught me off guard. Why was he asking for my opinion? I was barely tolerated here, a former enemy granted temporary shelter.

But as I looked at Lyra broken, grieving, consumed by rage that had poisoned everything she once valued I found myself thinking of another young woman who had felt betrayed by those she trusted.

"Death would be mercy," I said finally. "She wants to join her brother, to escape the guilt of what she's done. True justice would be forcing her to live with the consequences, to spend every day working to repair the damage she's caused."

Darius nodded slowly. "Life imprisonment, then. Hard labor until her debt to the pack is paid."

"And if she refuses to work?" Agatha demanded.

"Then she can starve. The choice will be hers."

It wasn't perfect justice nothing could bring back the wolves who had died because of Lyra's betrayal. But it was justice tempered with understanding, punishment that offered the possibility of redemption.

As guards moved to secure the prisoner, Darius approached me. "You've proven yourself today, Selene. Not just your innocence, but your value to this pack. Perhaps it's time we discussed a more... suitable position for someone of your abilities."

I met his gray eyes, seeing something there I hadn't expected. Not just acknowledgment, but genuine respect.

"What did you have in mind?" I asked.

Before he could answer, a commotion erupted from the direction of the compound. Riders were approaching at full gallop, their faces grim with fresh urgency.

"Alpha!" the lead rider called as he dismounted. "Border scouts report massive movement from Bloodfang territory. It looks like they're massing for a full-scale invasion."

My blood turned to ice. The intelligence leaks had been just the beginning. Now Kael was making his real move, using the chaos and distraction to launch the war he had always wanted.

Darius's expression hardened into stone. "How long do we have?"

"Two days, maybe three before they reach our outer settlements."

Two days to prepare for a war that had been months in the making. Two days to transform a pack reeling from betrayal into a fighting force capable of defending their territory.

As the implications sank in, I realized that my trial was over but my real test was just beginning. Whatever I was becoming, whatever power lay dormant within me, it would soon face its ultimate challenge.

War was coming to Nightshade territory.

And I would stand with them when it arrived.