Chapter 58
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The sun was high in the sky by the time Lyra made her way to the training field. A breeze kicked up dust from the packed ground as she walked over towards her training group.
Most of the warriors were already there, clustered near the sparring mats. They were casual gear, stretching and chatting, but as soon as she approached, the talking stopped. Eyes flickered to her
and away again.
Lovely.
She stopped a few feet from the group and raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Did I just walk into a secret meeting? Or is the gossip about me that good today?”
Halle, who had been tying her shoe, gave her a sheepish smile. “You caught us.”
“Oh, good. At least you’re honest about it.”
“We weren’t saying anything bad,” Halle said quickly standing. “It’s just… well, everyone’s talking about how you went to a witch.”
“Ah,” Lyra said, folding her arms. “Should have figured.”
“Kylie’s been telling everyone,” said Gage, crossing his arms.
“She’s pissed,” Halle said with a shrug. “Everyone knows she’s had a crush on Jake since she was, like, thirteen and then she was all excited about the elders saying she would be his chosen mate.”
“So is it true?” Gage cracked his knuckles. “Did you go to a witch?”
Lyra tilted her head. “Yeah, I did.”
His brows shot up. “Really? Why?‘
“Maybe I am a witch,” she deadpanned.
That earned a few laughs, though Gage didn’t join in.
Halle grinned. “Okay, that’d actually be kind of awesome.”
Lyra smirked. “Would explain a lot, wouldn’t it?”
Gage frowned. “You’re joking, but are you actually?”
Lyra sighed. “No, I’m not a witch. Just went to talk to one. Not cursed, not casting hexes, not turning anyone into toads.”
“Disappointing,” Halle said with a theatrical sigh. “My life is painfully boring. I wouldn’t mind a little magical drama. At least it’d make things more interesting around here.”
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One of the other warriors, a tall blond guy named Tyce, muttered something under his breath that
sounded a lot like, “Or more dangerous.”
Beside him, Marla, a fierce–eyed brunette with a permanent scowl, didn’t laugh either. She just kept
stretching, her gaze flicking towards Lyra like she expected her to combust any moment.
Lyra clocked it, but bit her tongue.
Before anyone else could chime in, Lexi strode over her ash–blonde braid pulled tight.
“All right, enough,” she said, voice sharp. “I don’t care if you’re werewolf, witch or water sprite.
We’re here to train, not gossip.”
**
After training, Lyra headed into the training hall, still wiping the sweat off her face. The familiar clang of weights and grunts of exertion echoed through the space. She spotted Donovan easily in the new area that Jake had set up for him. He was laughing with Russ and a young warrior she didn’t recognize. A tall, wiry guy with sandy brown hair.
She made her way toward them as Donovan mock–threatened to bench press more than Russ.
“I’ve been hauling my body weight around for years using nothing but my arms,” he said, gripping the bar on the weight bench. “I’ll crush you.”
“Only if I let you win,” Russ replied with a grin, leaning over to spot him.
“Donovan’s pretty strong,” the younger warrior chimed in. “Might be able to take you on.”
Russ smirked. “Don’t overinflate his ego. His head’s already big enough.”
Lyra leaned against the nearest post, watching them with a faint smile. It was the most at–ease she’d seen Donovan in a long time. He shifted off the bench into his chair, laughing with the young warrior about something she couldn’t quite hear.
But the lightness didn’t last. A voice sliced through the space like a blade.
“So the freak show is back in town after all.”
She turned to see a stocky warrior named Bran walking towards her. He had been one of her biggest bullies, always taking pleasure in “accidentally” knocking her into the wall or “accidentally” knocking her lunch tray from her hands. His eyes were cold, trained on her.
Russ, clearly hearing him, stepped in front of him immediately. “Back off.”
Bran scoffed. “Still defending the half–breed, I see.” He shook his head. “First she runs off, then she comes back and thinks she can be the Luna. And Alpha just expects the rest of us to be okay with
this?”
“I expect you to remember your place,” Russ warned.
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“She’s a freak,” Bran barked. “She’s weak. And we’re all pretending that we’re fine with it.”
“That’s enough,” Donovan said, rolling his wheelchair forward.
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But Bran’s lip curled. “And you. You’re worse. Pretending to be one of us when you’re nothing but…”
Donovan slammed the chair forward, hitting forcefully into Bran’s legs. Bran stumbled back, his eyes darkening in rage. Russ moved to stop him, but he wasn’t close enough. In one motion, Bran stepped forward and grabbed the wheelchair, tipping it over. Donovan hit the ground, tumbling out of the chair with a heavy thud.
Lyra surged forward, fury blooming in her chest, but she wasn’t fast enough.
Bran grabbed Donovan around the throat, hoisting him off the ground. Donovan grabbed at Bran’s
forearm.
Bran recoiled violently, dropping Donovan abruptly, letting out a shock yell of pain and fury. He clasped his arm at the elbow. His forearm was red and blistering, the imprint of Donovan’s finger clearly visible. It shimmered with a silvery edge, almost as though someone had pressed pure silver against his skin.
“What the hell?” Bran shouted, clutching at his arm. His eyes were wide with confusion and fear.” What did you do to me?”
Donovan stared at his own hands like they belonged to someone else. Russ was already helping him up, righting the chair with a furious scowl. The younger warrior stood frozen, his mouth slightly
open.
“I didn’t do anything,” Donovan said, breathless. “I didn’t… I just grabbed him.”
“You burned me!” Bran hissed, backing away.
Lyra dropped to Donovan’s side. Her heart thundered, adrenaline humming in her veins.
“What the hell was that?” Russ murmured, looking at Bran’s skin.
Donovan’s voice was faint. “I wasn’t trying to hurt him…”
“I don’t think you did,” Lyra said slowly, eyes narrowing as she looked at his hand, then at Bran’s injury. Her mind reeled through everything she’d read, trying to figure out what might have happened.
“Something’s wrong with both of you,” Bran snapped, still cradling his arm. “You’e poison.”
“No,” Lyra said, standing tall. “The only poison is small–minded people like you. This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t attempted to hurt my brother in the first place. Learn to control yourself and things like this won’t happen.”
Bran snarled, turning and storming off.
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All the warriors in the training hall watched him go, casting wary glances towards Lyra and
Donovan.
Russ’s gaze shifted to meet Lyra’s. “Whatever the hell that just was… we’re going to need to figure
it out. Fast.”
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