The forest was quiet.

Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, settling on Lyra's bare shoulders. She had slipped out before dawn, when the others still slept, their breath rising in clouds above them in the warrior cave. No one had noticed her go—not even her brothers. Especially not them.

She walked beyond the thorn bush that edged Moon Pack territory, her tiny footprints soft and uneven in the snow. The air tasted different out here. It was lighter somehow, not heavy with the stench of blood and dominance.

Lyra paused at the edge of a frozen stream, kneeling beside it. The water beneath the ice shimmered faintly. She stared into it, searching for something she couldn't name.Then, a sound.

Crunch.

A twig snapped behind the trees across the stream.She froze.

Another crunch. Soft, but steady. Someone was walking. Not a deer—too slow. Not a Moon Pack wolf either—she would've smelled them.

Lyra ducked behind a tree, peering carefully around the trunk.That's when she saw him. A boy.

He looked to be about her age—maybe a little older—but taller, stronger. His skin was tanned and dusted with snowflakes, and he wore a thick cloak of fur wrapped tightly around his shoulders. His hair was the color of chestnuts, messy and half-covering one eye. But what Lyra noticed most were his eyes: green, sharp, and alert like a fox's.

He crouched at the edge of the stream, examining something in the snow. He didn't seem to notice her.

Lyra's heart pounded. He's not from my pack... but who else could he be?The answer hit her like a stone: Earth Pack.

She had heard Fang and the others talk about Earth Pack—how they were sneaky, how they trespassed, how they stole. She should go back. She should report him.But she didn't.

Instead, she stepped out from behind the tree, carefully, her feet crunching in the snow.The boy's head snapped up. They stared at each other.For a long moment, neither moved.

"...Hi," Lyra said softly, unsure why those were the words she chose.The boy narrowed his eyes. "What's a Shadow pup doing here? Isn't your pack on the other side of the forest?"

Lyra's eyes narrowed as she stepped closer. "I'm a Moon Pack pup, not a Shadow pup," she said with a little huff.

"Yeah, right. Your hair's black, not white," the boy scoffed with a smirk. "I'm not stupid enough to fall for that."

Lyra stared at him, then stepped even closer. "Don't believe me? Then smell me."She raised her arm.

The Earth Pack boy hesitated, then leaned in, sniffing cautiously.

"In the Light Pack's name," he muttered, eyes widening, "you are a Moon Pack pup.""And you're Earth Pack," she replied—not with anger, but curiosity.He didn't deny it. "You're not supposed to be here."

Lyra shrugged. "Neither are you," she said, hugging herself against the cold.The boy stood slowly, brushing his hands on his coat. He didn't look scared. He looked... curious.

"Why are you out here? You don't even have shoes."

Lyra looked down at her feet, red and raw from the snow. "I like the forest more than the camp."He tilted his head. "Aren't you afraid?"She shrugged. "Not of the forest."

He took a step closer, then another, crossing the stream in one careful leap. "I'm Kieran."Lyra blinked. That was the first time anyone had introduced themselves to her."...Lyra," she said after a pause.

Kieran studied her. "You're really small. And skinny.""I don't get much food."

His gaze flicked to the faint bruise on her neck. His frown deepened. "Did they hurt you?"

She looked down quickly, avoiding his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it.""Okay." He glanced around. "I won't tell anyone I saw you.""...Why?"

Kieran hesitated, then gave a small shrug. "You don't look like someone I want to fight."Lyra blinked, unsure if that was a compliment or not.

Before she could speak again, a howl ripped through the trees—sharp and angry.Fang.

Her breath caught in her throat.Kieran tensed. "That's your alpha, isn't it?"She nodded quickly. "I have to go."

He nodded too, stepping back. "Wait." He pulled something from his coat and tossed it gently to her.

She caught it.A strip of dried meat.Lyra stared at it. "Why...?"

"You look hungry," he said simply. "Don't meet the Light Pack too soon."Then he turned and disappeared into the trees.

Lyra stood alone, staring after him, the dried meat clenched tightly in her hand.She didn't know what to think—only that, for the first time in her life, someone had seen her. Not as a stain or a shadow.

But as Lyra. 

Lyra turned and ran.

Her feet, numb from the snow, stumbled through the underbrush. Branches clawed at her skin, but she didn't stop. She had to make it back before anyone noticed.Too slow.

A growl sliced through the silence like a blade.She skidded to a halt, heart slamming against her ribs.There, between two gnarled trees, stood a monstrous shape.Rex.

Fang's wolf form.

His massive frame blocked the path back to camp. His silver-white coat shimmered under the moonlight, each coarse hair bristling with fury. Long and thick, his fur made him look even larger—towering over her, larger than any beast she'd ever seen. On all fours, he still stood taller than most grown men.

But it was his eyes that paralyzed her. Sharp. Amber. Burning like embers in the dark. Unblinking. Predatory.

Lyra didn't move. Couldn't move.

"You stink of Earth Pack," he growled, voice low and guttural. Even in this form, it was unmistakably him. Cold. Controlled. Dangerous.

Lyra opened her mouth to speak—but no words came.

The meat. Her hand trembled as she looked down at it, still clenched in her fingers like a brand of guilt. She shoved it behind her back.

Rex took a step forward. The snow beneath his paws didn't even crunch—he was that controlled. His eyes narrowed.

And he looked at her like he wished she hadn't come back.

"What did you do?" he asked, his voice sharp and cold as a blade."I—I didn't do anything," she whispered.

"Liar." His eyes flicked to the scrap of meat she still held. "You met one of them."She lowered her gaze. "He didn't hurt me."

"That doesn't matter." He stepped closer, snatching the meat from her hand and flinging it into the snow like it was filth. "Do you have any idea what you've done? What your scent on their land means?"

Lyra flinched but stayed still.

"I didn't mean to cross the line—"

"You mean you didn't care," he snapped. "Like your mother. Always wandering where she didn't belong."

Her mouth parted slightly, but no sound came. That name—her mother—was a wound no one ever touched. Not without a knife.

"You're lucky I found you and not Varric," he continued, voice low now, dangerous. "Or Fenna. They'd have dragged you back in pieces."

She hugged herself, trying to press the shaking back down. "I'm sorry.""Sorry?" he snarled. "Sorry doesn't stop war."

She tried to meet his eyes. "I wasn't spying. I just... I didn't want to be in the camp. That's all."He let out a dry laugh. "Of course you didn't. Always running, always slipping away like a rat." He stepped in close, towering over her, voice near her ear. "You shame me."

The words struck harder than a blow.

Her father. Her Alpha. And all he saw in her was shame.

Fang pulled away, face unreadable. "I should bite you ear off, maybe you learn then"Her blood turned to ice. "Please, don't."

He looked at her a moment longer, then turned sharply. "You're not worth the time."She watched him walk ahead, the snow hissing beneath his feet.

"Come," he called without looking back. "Before I change my mind."She followed.But something in her had cracked.And no amount of snow could freeze it shut again.

The rest of the walk was silent.

Fang didn't speak again. He didn't look back. His footsteps were long and angry, like every stomp into the snow was meant to erase her trail. Lyra struggled to keep up, cold biting at her skin with each step, her breath rasping in the freezing air.

By the time they reached the thorn barrier that marked Moon Pack's camp, her legs trembled.

Fang didn't wait for her.

He slipped between the brambles and disappeared into the heart of the den before she even caught up.

Lyra ducked through after him, careful not to snag her arm on the sharp thorns. She paused on the edge of the clearing, where the packed snow had been trampled by wolves and warriors. Campfires flickered low, barely embers now, casting long shadows over the sleeping forms curled beneath animal furs. The warrior cave loomed to her right, a dark hollow where the pack's strongest slept—her brothers among them.

She hesitated.

Going in meant facing their eyes.

Their sneers.

Their silence.

Fang was already vanishing into his den—her mother's old one—without another word.

Lyra stayed outside.

The cold settled around her like a second skin, but she didn't shiver. She was used to it. She'd grown up learning not to show weakness—because in this pack, weakness got you kicked to the edges, or worse, forgotten.

She crouched beside the fire pit, reached toward the dying coals, and let the faint heat graze her fingers. The meat Kieran had given her was long gone, but she could still feel the warmth of it in her palm—like a ghost of kindness.

She'd met an Earth Pack pup.

And he didn't look at her like a mistake.

She hugged her knees to her chest, resting her cheek on them. The faint warmth faded. No one noticed she hadn't gone inside. No one offered her a blanket. Not even her brothers. Especially not them.

A soft crunch in the snow made her lift her head. A pair of yellow eyes watched her from the shadows—Kiki, one of the older she-wolves, sneering before turning away. Disgust. As always.

Lyra didn't speak. She lowered her head again.

In her mind, she saw Kieran's face.

"You don't look like someone I want to fight."

Not hate. Not pity. Just... something close to normal.

She didn't know what that meant yet.

But it was more than she'd ever gotten here.

And somehow, that small thing—a name, a scrap of food, a look that didn't burn—kept her from breaking entirely.