Chapter 6 The Shadow Flame

• The mirror didn’t stop glowing.
• Long after Maren had disappeared back into the mountain winds, long after Ronan sent the guards back to their posts, the runes etched along its edge still pulsed soft and steady. Like a heartbeat.
• Mine.
• But something felt… wrong.
• I sat cross-legged in the corner of my room, cradling the cold metal, watching the flame swirl beneath the glass. It was no longer just one flickering light.
• It was two.
• Two flames. One gold. One black.
• Dancing together. Opposite. The dancers twisted like mirrored shadows.
• Mira stirred inside me, her voice trembling.
• That second flame… it isn’t us.
• Then what is it?
• A mark. A tether. Someone else has touched our souls.
• I didn’t understand. How could someone else have left a mark inside me?
• Unless… unless this wasn’t about bloodlines or power anymore.
• Unless someone was trying to claim me.
• By dawn, I couldn’t take it anymore.
• I stormed into Ronan’s chambers, mirror still clutched in my hand. He was at the window, shirtless, bruises scattered across his ribs from training. But his gaze snapped to mine the second I stepped in.
• He looked like he hadn’t slept either.
• “I need answers,” I said without preamble. “Now.”
• I held out the mirror. “There are two flames.”
• He stepped closer, eyes narrowing as he studied it. The golden fire flickered like sunlight. The black one curled like smoke.
• “That’s not normal,” he murmured.
• “No kidding.”
• He glanced up, tension cutting into his voice. “It means someone else has tried to bond with you.”
• The air in the room went still.
• “Like a mate bond?” I asked, throat dry.
• “No,” he said softly. “Worse.”
• He took the mirror from me, tilting it in the light. “A mate bond is sacred. Mutual. This? This is a claim made without consent.”
• I stepped back. “Who would do that?”
• “There are rituals… forbidden ones. They can bind souls without touch. From afar. If someone knew who you were—what you carried, they may have tried to take you before the prophecy awakens.”
• My stomach turned. “You mean someone is trying to own me?”
• He nodded grimly. “Before you even understand what you are.”
• I swallowed hard, trying to push down the panic.
• “I won’t let them,” I whispered. “Not again.”
• He looked at me, voice rough. “You won’t have to.”
• And then—he did something I didn’t expect.
• He stepped close. Not like a warrior. Not like an Alpha.
• But like a man.
• “I should’ve marked you,” he murmured. “Not as a mate. Not yet. But as protected. Claimed by this pack.”
• My heart pounded. “Why didn’t you?”
• “Because I wasn’t sure what I wanted. But now I am.”
• Silence stretched between us.
• He reached for my wrist, slow and deliberate. “Do you trust me?”
• I hesitated.
• Then nodded.
• “Yes.”
• His fingers brushed my skin—and warmth surged through me. Not burning. Not forced. Just real.
• He leaned in, brushing his lips across the inside of my wrist.
• And when he pulled back, a faint silver mark shimmered where his mouth had touched. A wolf’s eye. His crest.
• Ronan Vale had just warded me.
• Publicly. Permanently.
• Protected. By him.
• The second flame in the mirror trembled.
• Then dimmed.
• By midday, the scouts returned with bad news.
• “The rogues didn’t flee,” one reported. “They retreated to the ruins beyond the old river border. They’ve set up camp there. Watching.”
• Waiting.
• Ronan cursed under his breath. “They’re not going away.”
• “Maybe we shouldn’t either,” I said.
• He turned to me. “What are you thinking?”
• I stepped forward, voice steady. “Let me go out there.”
• The room erupted.
• “She’s not trained.”
• “She’s a risk.”
• “She’s bait,” Eira snapped. “And they know it.”
• I didn’t flinch.
• “Exactly,” I said. “They want me? Then give them a reason to come out of hiding.”
• Ronan studied me for a long time. His expression was unreadable.
• Finally, he spoke.
• “Fine. But you’re not going alone.”
• That night, we rode in silence—four wolves cloaked in shadows, slipping beyond the warded lands of Nightfang. The moon was a sliver above us, pale and sharp as a dagger.
• Ronan ran beside me in his black wolf form, a dark streak of muscle and menace. Eira followed behind, silver and silent. Niko brought up the rear, constantly sniffing the air.
• I shifted only halfway, letting Mira blend beneath my skin but keeping my human form. If they wanted the girl with fire in her blood, they’d see her.
• We stopped at the ruins just before midnight.
• It was a crumbled temple, long abandoned by the old bloodlines. Bones littered the ground. Smoke curled from makeshift torches. And from the trees… whispers.
• “They’re here,” Mira whispered in my mind.
• Then I felt it.
• A cold grip on my soul.
• The second flame.
• It surged back to life.
• She’s mine.
• The voice wasn’t mine. Wasn’t Mira’s. It wasn’t anything human.
• Ronan shifted beside me, growling. “We’re not alone.”
• A figure stepped from the shadows.
• Tall. Hooded. Not a wolf. Not quite a man.
• His presence twisted the air. Dark. Ancient. Familiar.
• “You came,” he said to me. “As I knew you would.”
• “Who are you?” I demanded.
• He smiled and pulled back his hood.
• I gasped.
• Because I knew that face.
• I’d seen it once before. A visitor to the Crescent Pack when I was young. A council member. A man of few words and many secrets.
• “Raúl Estévez,” Ronan growled. “You were exiled.”
• Raúl’s smile widened. “And yet, here I am.”
• My blood went ice-cold.
• He turned to me, voice velvet-slick. “I’ve waited a long time for you, Lyra. The prophecy was never about balance. It was about rebirth. You are the vessel.”
• I took a step back. “I’m not yours.”
• “No,” he said softly. “Not yet.”
• Then he raised a black blade, and the second flame inside me flared.
• And with one whispered word, Raúl severed the air.
• And I felt the fire inside me scream.