CHAPTER 9 ( Jasper's Guilt )

The light had scarcely diminished, leaving Lyra and Kael motionless as the crack grew in front of them. The beast clawed its way up, its grotesque form defying natural laws. Its shadow devoured the woodland in its wake, shrouding the pair in an unnatural darkness. The deep, guttural growl that followed sent a vibration through the earth, rooting Lyra to the spot.

"Lyra! Get out of it!" Kael's voice cut through the suffocating dread, seizing her arm and yanking her back to reality.

Her gaze remained locked on the monstrous form emerging from the abyss, her breathing shallow and rapid. "What... what is that?"

Kael's face was pale, his usual composure replaced by raw fear. His eyes darted between Lyra and the shadowy figure, his grip tightening on his sword. "Something Damien never wanted you to find."

The hooded man, still gripping the crimson shard, stepped closer, his grin illuminated by its eerie glow. "It's the beginning of the end," he said, his voice laced with malevolent delight.

Kael moved instinctively, shoving Lyra behind him. He raised his blade, the steel catching the dim light. "Run, Lyra!"

"But—"

"No arguments!" Kael barked, his voice leaving no room for defiance. "Go now!"

Lyra hesitated for only a moment before she turned and sprinted into the forest, her pack bouncing heavily against her back. The sounds of clashing steel and guttural roars chased her, but she dared not look back.

Miles away, in the heart of Wulfgar, Jasper paced his private chamber. His wine cup remained unopened on the table, its contents reflecting the flickering flames of the fireplace. The warmth of the fire couldn't take away the coldness that clung to him—a shiver brought on by regret rather than cold.

Lyra's face tormented him, her defiance and sorrow imprinted on his mind. He shook his head, muttering to himself, "She was weak. Unworthy. A liability."

The words felt hollow, their repetition doing little to convince him. His pacing stopped abruptly as a knock echoed through the room.

“Enter”

The door creaked open, revealing Damien. His ever-calm demeanor carried a hint of curiosity. "You summoned me?"

Jasper turned away, his gaze fixed on the moonlit forest beyond the window. "Have there been any signs of her?"

Damien's eyebrow arched. "Lyra?"

"Who else?" Jasper snapped, his tone sharp.

A smirk played on Damien's lips. "Why do you ask, Alpha? I thought you were done with her."

Jasper hesitated before replying, his voice softer. "I want to ensure she hasn't done anything reckless."

"Reckless?" Damien's tone carried amusement. "Like unleashing forces beyond her comprehension, perhaps?"

Jasper spun to face him, his eyes narrowing. "What do you know?"

Damien stepped closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "There are whispers. Old magic stirring. Magic tied to Lyra."

The words hit Jasper like a blow. His chest tightened as he struggled to process the implications. "That is impossible. She lacks that kind of power."

"Does she?" Damien challenged, his smirk growing. "You’ve underestimated her before."

The weight of his decisions bore down on Jasper. After a long silence, he gave a curt nod. "Find her. Bring her back. Alive."

Lyra struggled across the bush, her lungs burning with each breath. The air was thick with suffocating tension, and even after the steel crunch had receded, a powerful sense of dread persisted.

Her bag became heavier with each stride, and the black shard within pulsated softly, almost like a heartbeat. It felt warm, alive, and filled her with both dread and curiosity.

"Keep moving," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. "You can’t stop now."

As she crested a hill, a figure stepped into her path. Startled, Lyra froze and instinctively reached for the blade Kael had given her.

"Relax," the stranger said, raising their hands in a gesture of peace. As the hood fell back, Lyra saw a woman with sharp features and piercing emerald eyes.

"Who are you?" Lyra demanded, her voice steadier than she felt.

"My name is Seraphina," the woman replied, her tone calm but commanding. "I’ve come to warn you."

"Warn me? About what?"

Seraphina’s gaze shifted to the pack slung over Lyra’s shoulder. "The shard you carry is more than a fragment of power. It’s a beacon. The longer you hold it, the greater the danger you invite."

Lyra tightened her grip on the blade, stepping back. "What kind of danger?"

"The kind that consumes entire kingdoms," Seraphina said, her voice heavy with sorrow. "You are being hunted, Lyra. By forces you cannot comprehend."

Lyra’s mind raced. "If that’s true, why are you here? To help me?"

Seraphina hesitated, her expression unreadable. "To ensure you don’t make things worse."

Back in Wulfgar, Jasper stood on the castle balcony, eyeing the horizon. Something gnawed at him, a sensation he couldn't describe but couldn't ignore.

"Regret doesn't suit you," Damien said, breaking the stillness with scornful tone.

Jasper didn’t turn. "What do you want now?"

"Only to inform you that your orders are being carried out," Damien said smoothly. "But I wonder—if we bring her back, what then? Will you cast her aside again? Or finish what you started?"

Jasper's grasp on the balcony rail strengthened. He didn't respond.

"Be careful, Alpha," Damien said, his voice dripping with mockery. "That weakness you feel—it could be the end of you."

Lyra glanced at Seraphina, her thoughts racing with questions. But before she could express them, a bone-chilling scream ripped through the night.

Seraphina's eyes widened, and her resolve wavered for the first time. "They've found us," she said quietly.

Shadows appeared from the trees, forming into monstrous animals with flashing red eyes and razor-sharp teeths. They moved with unnatural speed, encircling Lyra and Seraphina.

The largest of the creatures stepped forward, its voice a guttural growl. "Give us the shard."

Lyra gripped her blade tighter, her knuckles white. "Stay back!"

Seraphina placed a hand on Lyra’s arm. "Fighting them is futile. We must run."

But before they could move, the lead beast lunged. Seraphina pushed Lyra aside, drawing a dagger from her cloak. The blade glowed faintly as it clashed with the creature’s claws, sparks flying.

"Go!" Seraphina shouted, her voice filled with urgency.

But the monsters were closing in, their snarls getting louder. With a hesitant nod, she turned and fled, her pulse beating as the darkness closed in around her.

The forest appeared to morph about her, with once-familiar trails twisting into a maze. The shard in her pack became hotter, its pulse faster, as if reacting to the threat.

As she staggered into a clearing, a new apparition appeared: a guy wrapped in black with his face concealed. He lifted his palm, and the shadows froze, their snarls muffled.

"You’ve run far enough, Lyra," he said, his voice smooth and chilling.

Lyra’s breath caught in her throat. "Who are you?"

The man stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "I am the one who will claim what you carry."

The shard’s pulse quickened, almost frantic, as if sensing the man’s intent. Lyra stepped away, her thoughts racing for an escape.

But before she could react, the guy lifted his hand again, and the world around her faded to black.

To be continued...