MARKED BY MY ENEMY MATE

The stone walls of the war chamber felt colder than usual. The assassin, bound in silver shackles, knelt bleeding on the floor as the scent of his betrayal tainted the air.

Lyra stood just outside the archway, her pulse thrumming. She could feel Kael's fury radiating from across the room. He paced before the captive like a caged storm, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring. Blood still dripped from his knuckles. He had taken the interrogation into his own hands—violently so.

But it wasn't enough.

One of his own elite guards. A wolf who had sworn loyalty, fought beside him in the border wars, now caught trying to slip a poisoned blade into Lyra's sleeping quarters.

And Kael had locked her out of the room.

Again.

Lyra curled her fingers into fists as Thorne approached quietly from the hallway behind her. He smelled of smoke and worry.

"You shouldn't be here," he murmured, voice low.

"I have every right to be here," Lyra shot back. Her voice didn't rise, but it struck like steel.

Thorne's sigh was heavy. "He's trying to protect you. The court is watching. They're already afraid of how far you've come."

"Then let them be afraid."

She stepped past him.

The doors weren't guarded. A silent message, perhaps—a challenge. Kael knew she'd come anyway. He just didn't expect what she would do next.

Inside, the air thickened with tension. The assassin lifted his head as Lyra entered, his lip curling in disdain. He reeked of defiance… and shame.

Kael turned, eyes flashing. "Lyra. Get out."

Her gaze didn't flinch. "No."

"This is a military matter. You're not—"

"I am the reason he tried to kill someone. I deserve to know why."

Kael growled low in his throat. "I told you to stay out of this."

And there it was—that old authority he wielded like a blade. Alpha. Protector. Possessive. Furious.

But Lyra didn't back down. Not anymore.

She moved toward the captive. Her steps were calm, deliberate. "Tell me," she said softly, crouching in front of the assassin, "did you hate me because I was powerful… or because you were afraid I would become more powerful than your Alpha?"

The wolf spat blood. "You're a curse. An abomination."

Lyra tilted her head, fire flickering behind her eyes. "And yet… you failed."

Kael reached out to pull her back, but stopped when her skin shimmered with heat. The bond between them pulsed—wild and unsettled.

Her fingertips touched the assassin's temple. Just the edge.

And the air exploded.

Visions bled into her mind like a flood breaking through a dam.

:: Silver masks. A whispered chant in the woods. The assassin kneeling before a veiled figure who spoke in tongues. ::

:: "The Moonblood must be extinguished. For the bloodline to rise again, hers must fall." ::

:: A symbol carved in bone. Ancient. Twisted. The Mark of the Forgotten Circle. ::

Lyra screamed as power surged through her veins. Her body convulsed, eyes glowing white-hot. The assassin thrashed in agony as her mind pierced his—no longer just seeing, but scorching the truth into being.

Kael rushed forward. "LYRA, STOP—!"

She gasped and pulled her hand back.

The assassin collapsed, unconscious, steam rising from his skin.

Silence choked the room.

Kael stared at her like she was a stranger.

"What… what did you just do?"

Lyra rose slowly, her limbs trembling, but her spine straight. "I saw what he saw. He was sent by the Forgotten Circle. They're coming for us. For me."

"That power," Kael said hoarsely, "that wasn't wolf. That was—" He cut himself off, expression unreadable.

"Moonblood," she finished. "You knew."

Kael didn't deny it.

He didn't move either.

His silence struck her harder than any blow. "You didn't tell me," she whispered. "Even when I bled. Even when I burned."

"I was trying to protect you," he snapped.

"No, Kael. You were trying to control me."

She turned to leave, fury and betrayal churning in her chest—but then she heard voices. Guards. Council members. Witnesses.

They had seen.

The court had felt the power she unleashed.

The truth would spread like wildfire now: Lyra had power ancient enough to burn minds and shatter oaths. She wasn't just a cursed mate. She was something far more dangerous.

A prophecy incarnate.

She turned one last time. Kael's expression had hardened into the mask of an Alpha again—calm, cold, unreadable.

But his hands… they trembled.

"Are you afraid of me now?" she asked quietly.

He didn't answer.

That night, the court held its breath.

And Lyra felt something shift in her bond with Kael—not a break, not yet.

But a fracture.

A warning.

A war between them was coming.

And she wasn't sure either of them would survive it.

Kael stood alone in the war chamber long after Lyra left, her footsteps echoing like judgment down the corridor.

He stared at the unconscious assassin—now nothing more than a broken body curled in the shadows. But it wasn't the man's screams that haunted him.

It was hers.

The way she had trembled when the visions poured through her… the raw agony in her cry… and the fire. Not just metaphorical. Real. Her skin had glowed. The air had cracked with it.

He clenched his fists.

Moonblood.

The ancient scroll Thorne had found still burned in Kael's memory—words that branded his soul.

She will rise in flame, not as Luna, but as reckoning.

He should have destroyed her the moment the bond formed.

Instead, he had fallen deeper into the curse.

The door creaked behind him. Thorne entered silently, his face pale and grim.

"The council knows," he said simply.

Kael didn't turn around. "How much?"

"Enough. Her power. The name Moonblood. The mark she left on him." He nodded at the smoldering assassin. "They're afraid, Kael. Half of them already want her executed."

Kael exhaled harshly. "And the other half?"

"Want her controlled. Bound. Mated to you permanently."

A beat passed. Kael's jaw tensed. "So, she's a weapon either way."

"No," Thorne said carefully. "She's a woman. One we've both failed to protect in different ways."

Kael closed his eyes.

He could still feel her scent in the air. Burnt cedar. Wild moonlight.

He remembered the look in her eyes when she said, You were trying to control me.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe he hadn't wanted to admit how much she terrified him. Not because of her strength—but because of what she made him feel.

He had loved before. But never like this.

This was feral. Consuming. Unforgiving.

And now… it might be too late.

Across the courtyard, in the ruined garden beneath the blood moon, Lyra stood barefoot in the dewy grass.

Her body still hummed from the power surge. Her thoughts scattered like ash in the wind.

She had seen the Forgotten Circle. Not just visions—memories. Cultists cloaked in secrecy. Ancient wolves who had turned from the Moon Goddess and bound themselves to a darker prophecy.

And she was the key to both salvation and destruction.

She didn't ask for this. She didn't want it.

All she had ever wanted was to survive. To find her place. To matter.

Now, she mattered too much.

Her hands still tingled from the mind-burn. She stared at her palms, as if expecting to see cracks in her skin.

Thorne's voice broke the silence.

"You're not sleeping."

She didn't turn. "I didn't think I was allowed to anymore. Witches, apparently, don't rest."

He stepped beside her, silent for a moment. "You scared them."

"I scare myself."

"You scared Kael."

Her throat tightened.

"I don't know what's happening to me, Thorne. I feel like I'm turning into something I can't control. Something that doesn't belong to this world. Not to a pack. Not to anyone."

He was quiet for a long time. Then: "That's because you were never meant to belong in a cage."

She looked at him sharply.

"I'm not talking about Kael," he added gently. "I'm talking about the role they keep trying to shove you into. Luna. Mate. Pretty thing behind a throne. That's not you."

Her lip trembled, but she held it in.

"You are Moonblood," Thorne said softly. "And maybe that means you were never meant to follow. Maybe you were meant to lead."

The words lodged in her chest like a shard of glass.

Lead.

But to where?

To war?

To her death?

To Kael's?

Her vision blurred. But she didn't cry.

She straightened her spine, raised her chin.

If war was coming, she would meet it standing tall.

And if Kael still wanted to protect her, he'd have to choose:

Control her… or stand beside her.

Because she would not be silenced again.

Not by the court.

Not by fate.

Not even by him.

Far above the garden, the moon bled into the sky—watching. Waiting. Listening.