Erik moved through the house like a ghost. Servants scurried around him, hanging flowers and setting up chairs for the wedding, but he barely noticed them. The potion his father had used left him feeling hollow, with only the faintest flicker of his connection to Lyra remaining.
"You look terrible," a voice said.
Erik turned to find Gavin, the pack's warrior trainer, leaning against the wall.
"Not in the mood, Gavin," Erik muttered.
"For what it's worth, I think your father's wrong." Gavin glanced around to make sure no one was listening. "True mates aren't myths. My mother was one."
Erik's attention snapped into focus. "What did you say?"
"She was an omega, like your girl. My father's family tried to prevent the bond, but it couldn't be broken." Gavin gave a sad smile. "No matter what potion they used."
"Why are you telling me this?"
Gavin pushed himself off the wall. "Because wolves without their true mates are only half alive. And that's no way for an Alpha to lead."
Before Erik could ask more questions, Gavin walked away, disappearing down the hallway.
Erik stood frozen, Gavin's words echoing in his mind. That tiny ember of connection to Lyra suddenly felt more precious than ever. He concentrated on it, willing it to grow stronger.
A servant bumped into him, breaking his focus. "Sorry, sir! I didn't see you there."
Erik recognized the young woman—one of Lyra's friends from the kitchen. Her name was Jade.
"It's fine," he said. Then, on impulse: "Do you know where they took Lyra? Before she disappeared?"
Jade's eyes widened. "I—I shouldn't say..."
"Please," Erik lowered his voice. "I need to find her."
Jade bit her lip, then whispered quickly: "Check the old hunting cabin, not the main south cabin. Eleanor sent her there yesterday. But you didn't hear it from me."
Erik's heart raced. The old hunting cabin was deeper in the woods, rarely used anymore.
He needed to leave now, but guards watched every exit. The potion made him sluggish, unable to shift into wolf form. He needed help.
Erik found Marcus in the armory, preparing weapons in case the hunters returned.
"I need to get out of here," Erik said without preamble.
Marcus frowned. "Your father's ordered you to stay put until the ceremony."
"Lyra's at the old hunting cabin. Or was. I need to check."
"Your wedding is in two hours."
Erik grabbed his friend's arm. "If Clara were in danger, would you marry someone else instead of saving her?"
Marcus stiffened. "That's different."
"Is it?" Erik challenged. "Help me, Marcus. Create a distraction."
Marcus stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "You have twenty minutes. I'll set off the perimeter alarm."
Erik slipped into the forest as alarms blared behind him. Guards shouted, rushing toward the north boundary, while he headed south. His movements felt heavy, the potion still working against him. But with each step away from the main house, the tiny ember of connection grew slightly warmer.
The old hunting cabin came into view after fifteen minutes of running. No guards surrounded it, and no sign of hunters. Erik approached cautiously, wishing he could shift into wolf form to enhance his senses.
The door was unlocked. Erik pushed it open slowly, ready for anything.
The cabin was empty except for a small figure huddled in the corner.
"Lyra?" he called softly.
She raised her head, and relief flooded her face. "Erik! You found me!"
Erik rushed to her side. She was tied to a chair, rope burns visible on her wrists. He quickly untied her, rage building inside him at the sight of her injuries.
"Who did this?" he demanded.
"Eleanor's guards brought me here yesterday." Lyra rubbed her wrists. "They said it was for my own protection, but it felt more like punishment."
"And the hunters? Did you see any?"
Lyra shook her head. "Only pack guards. Then this morning, they all left suddenly. No explanation."
Erik helped her to her feet, the contact sending warm ripples through the cold emptiness inside him. Even with the potion, their connection couldn't be completely severed.
"We need to move quickly," he said. "My father used some kind of potion on me to suppress our bond. I can barely feel it now."
Lyra's eyes widened. "That's why you feel... distant. I thought maybe you'd changed your mind."
"Never," Erik said firmly. "True mates are forever. Gavin told me his parents were true mates, so I know it's possible."
"Gavin? The warrior trainer?" Lyra seemed surprised.
"He risked a lot telling me. It seems true mates are more common than my father wants to admit." Erik took her hand. "We need to go before they realize I'm missing."
Lyra hesitated. "Go where? Your father controls everything. The wedding—"
"Forget the wedding. We need to find Madeline, the pack healer. She created the potion; she must know how to reverse it."
They slipped out of the cabin and into the forest. Erik led the way, moving as quickly as the potion would allow. Lyra kept pace, her small hand gripping his tightly.
"Tell me about the bond," she said quietly as they walked. "What does it feel like when it's not suppressed?"
Erik smiled sadly. "Like finding something you never knew was missing. Like every part of me recognizes every part of you."
"I feel it too," Lyra admitted. "Since the moment our eyes met, it's like a string tying us together. Even now, with the potion, I can feel you."
They reached a small stream and stopped to rest. Erik checked his watch—ten minutes until the wedding ceremony was supposed to start. His father would be furious by now.
"Why do you think they lied about the hunters?" Lyra asked.
"To control me. To make me believe you were in danger so I'd do what they wanted." Erik's jaw tightened. "My father has been manipulating me my entire life."
Lyra touched his cheek gently. "There's something I don't understand. If true mates are rare but real, why fight so hard against it? Why force you to marry Clara?"
"Good question." A new voice startled them both.
Madeline, the pack healer, stepped out from behind a large oak tree. Her silver hair was tied in a bun, and her wise eyes examined them both carefully.
"Madeline," Erik said, moving protectively in front of Lyra. "Did my father send you?"
"No one sent me. I followed the bond." The old woman smiled. "Even suppressed, it shines like a beacon to those who know how to look."
"You created the potion that did this," Erik accused.
"I did," Madeline admitted. "Under orders. Just as I created it twenty-five years ago, when your father found his true mate."
Erik froze. "What did you say?"
"Your mother was not your father's true mate," Madeline said softly. "His true mate was an omega, like Lyra. But his parents forced him to abandon her and marry your mother instead, for political reasons."
"That's impossible," Erik whispered. "He would have told me."
"Would he? When it would mean admitting he made the biggest mistake of his life?" Madeline stepped closer. "Why do you think he's so determined to keep you from Lyra? He doesn't want you to have what he lost."
Lyra's hand found Erik's. "What happened to his true mate?"
Madeline's eyes grew sad. "She left the pack, broken-hearted. Later, we heard she'd died giving birth to a child. The pain of separation was too much for her body to bear."
A terrible thought struck Erik. "This child—what happened to it?"
Madeline looked directly at Lyra. "She grew up an orphan, taken in by another pack. Her true heritage hidden from everyone, including herself."
The world seemed to stop. Erik turned to Lyra, whose face had gone white.
"My mother died in childbirth," Lyra whispered.
"Your mother was your father's true mate," Madeline confirmed. "Which means, Erik, that Lyra is—"
"My half-sister?" Erik felt sick.
"No!" Madeline shook her head quickly. "Your father never consummated the bond with Lyra's mother. Her father was someone else, from another pack. But the bond between you and Lyra—it's like the moon's way of correcting an old wrong."
Relief washed over Erik, followed by rage at his father's deception.
"We need to reverse the potion," he said to Madeline. "Now."
The healer nodded. "I can help, but there's a price. Breaking the suppression will cause a backlash. The bond will flare stronger than ever, revealing itself to everyone within miles."
"Meaning my father will know exactly where we are," Erik realized.
"And he'll do anything to stop you," Madeline warned. "He believes he's protecting you from his own fate."
Lyra squared her shoulders. "We have to try. I'm tired of hiding."
Erik looked at her with admiration. This small omega had more courage than many warriors he knew.
"Do it," he told Madeline.
The healer reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vial filled with amber liquid. "Drink this, both of you. Share it."
Erik took the vial, uncorked it, and drank half before passing it to Lyra. She finished it without hesitation, her eyes never leaving his.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then heat exploded through Erik's chest, burning away the potion's cold emptiness. The bond roared back to life, stronger than before, a blazing connection between him and Lyra.
He could feel everything—her fear, her hope, her love. Images from her past flashed through his mind as she experienced his memories too.
"It's beautiful," Lyra gasped, tears streaming down her face.
Erik pulled her close, the contact nearly overwhelming in its intensity. This was what his father had given up, this perfect unity of souls.
But their moment of joy was short-lived. Howls erupted in the distance—the pack was coming.
"They felt the bond," Madeline said urgently. "Run east, toward the ridge. There's a cave system there where you can hide."
"Come with us," Lyra pleaded.
Madeline shook her head. "My place is here. I'll delay them as long as I can."
Erik grabbed Lyra's hand. "Ready?"
She nodded, determination in her eyes. "Together."
They sprinted through the trees, the bond between them pulsing with each heartbeat. Behind them, the howls grew closer.
What they didn't see was the figure watching from the shadows—a wolf with calculating eyes who had been tracking them since they left the cabin.
Clara stepped out from her hiding place, a silver dagger gleaming in her hand.
"Run while you can," she whispered, her face twisting with rage. "The hunt has just begun."