The silence that followed Lyra's words was heavier than the air saturated with the scent of blood and decay. Kaleb, still kneeling, stared at her with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and a surging, wild craving that, though long suppressed, now erupted within his wolf with double force. His senses screamed of her presence – of the moonlit gleam of her hair, of the strength radiating from her body, of the scent of Primeval Magic that was both terrifying and irresistible to him. Seraphina struggled in the embrace of the roots, her screams muffled by the earth, her gaze fixed on Lyra burning with hatred.
The Pack. The entire Gray Moon Pack stood stunned. They had never seen anything like it. They had never seen their Alpha so humiliated, and a rejected OMEGA return with a power that could move mountains. Shock mingled with hope. The plague had decimated their pack, and their leadership had failed. Now, this mysterious, powerful woman, whose heart bled for their wrongs, stood before them.
"Stand up, Kaleb," Lyra's voice was low, yet it carried across the entire valley, no need to shout. There was no pity in it. It was a command, and Kaleb, against his will, felt compelled to obey. His wolf, still in shock, flinched, reacting to Lyra's strength. Kaleb slowly rose, his eyes never leaving Lyra.
"What… what do you want from us?" he asked, his voice still hoarse.
"I want you to survive," Lyra replied. "I want you to fight. And I want you to follow me. I am the Blood Moon Luna, and your pack is in mortal danger. Your pride, your old rules, your mistakes – all of it must be set aside if you wish to live."
She gestured to the surrounding forest. "The Shadow of Oblivion plague knows no mercy. It devours everything in its path. Your Alpha is blind. Your Luna is powerless. I am the only hope."
Seraphina's voice, muffled but still venomous, came from behind Lyra. "Lies! She wants your power! She wants to take my place!"
Lyra turned, her silver eyes settling on Seraphina. "Your place? A place that has given you nothing but fear and helplessness?" Her voice resonated with a power that forced Seraphina into silence. Lyra raised her hand, and the roots that bound her loosened, allowing Seraphina to fall to the ground. "I do not want your place, Seraphina. I am beyond it. I am the Luna of Primeval Magic. I do not need titles from you."
She turned back to the pack. "Within days, the Shadow of Oblivion will strike again. This time with greater force. Kaleb is the Alpha. But I am the Luna who holds the power to fight. You will listen to me. There is no more time for defiance."
This was not a request. It was an order. Kaleb clenched his teeth. His wolf yearned to acknowledge her, yearned for her return, but his pride and years of leadership rebelled. Yet, he knew he was helpless. He had seen what Lyra had done. He had seen his pack dying.
"What… what should we do?" asked one of the older warriors, whom Lyra remembered from her childhood. His voice was filled with resignation, but also a small spark of hope.
"First – all the sick must be gathered in one place," Lyra commanded. "Everyone who feels weakened, who sees darkness. Silas taught me healing. I can slow the plague, but I cannot cure it instantly. It requires time and energy. Separating the sick is crucial to prevent further spread."
"Second – the warriors must strengthen their defenses. Dig trenches, set up barricades. The Shadow of Oblivion is ethereal, but it can be slowed by physical barriers. Use wood, stones. Everything you have."
"Third – scouts. I need to know where these shadows are coming from. Search for the source, if possible. But do not engage. Observe."
"And fourth – prepare for battle. Warriors who are healthy must train. They must learn how to fight an invisible enemy. I will teach you."
Kaleb opened his mouth as if to protest, but Lyra sent him a look that silenced him. "These are not requests, Kaleb. These are orders. Your pack is dying. Either you trust me, or I will have to take drastic measures to save the rest." Her voice indicated she was not joking. She was ready to do anything to stop the plague.
There was a moment of silence. Then, slowly, the elders began to nod. The young werewolves, who had witnessed her power firsthand, rushed to carry out her commands. They were desperate.
"Do as she says," Kaleb spoke, his voice filled with resignation, but devoid of anger. He was defeated. His wolf, still craving her, had made its decision. Kaleb, Alpha of the Gray Moon Pack, bowed to Lyra.
Seraphina, freed from the roots, stared at them in disbelief. "Kaleb! You can't! This is an insult!" Kaleb turned to her, his gaze cold. "Silence, Seraphina. Your advice has led us to the brink. She is our only chance."
Lyra ignored their further squabbles. Her attention was focused on organizing the pack. She already saw several werewolves beginning to lead the sick to one of the empty huts. The warriors, though initially reluctant, began to gather, awaiting her instructions.
For the next few days, Lyra worked tirelessly. She meditated to replenish her magical energy. Then she went to the sick, using Primeval Magic to slow the plague's progression. It was an exhausting task, but she saw how slowly, very slowly, a spark of life returned to the eyes of the ill. Her Seer ability was crucial; it allowed her to sense every corrupted point in a werewolf's soul and focus her energy there.
She taught the warriors how to sense the presence of the Shadows, how to slow them down, and how to attack them in their ethereal form. It wasn't easy, as werewolves were accustomed to physical combat. Lyra had to be patient and firm.
Kaleb observed her from a distance. Sometimes, when their gazes met, Lyra saw a storm of emotions in his eyes – admiration, envy, the pain of rejection, and something that looked like respect. She saw him suffer. And her wolf, despite everything, felt regret for him. But Lyra did not allow herself to dwell on that feeling. Her priority was the pack.
Seraphina tried to incite others, to sow seeds of doubt, but no one listened to her. The pack saw what Lyra was doing. They saw her bringing back hope.
One evening, as Lyra was healing one of the most severely ill elders, she felt a faint, distant pulse. It wasn't the plague. It was Kaelan's aura. She was closer than before, meaning the Silver Claw Pack must also be facing problems, or Kaelan was on patrol. His aura was still pure, strong, but Lyra sensed a hint of concern within it.
So you feel something too, Lyra thought. This world is larger than we thought. And it needs all of us.
For the rest of the night, Lyra worked, simultaneously sensing Kaelan's distant, powerful presence. She felt strangely calm, knowing that somewhere out there, another powerful werewolf, just like her, was fighting the same invisible enemy. It was comforting. It gave her hope.
The next day, the pack was better organized. Barriers were reinforced, the sick gathered. The warriors were tired, but their eyes held a new spark. Lyra had given them hope. She knew the battle was not over yet. But the first step had been taken.