Chapter 8 – The Dream That Wasn’t Hers
[LYRA'S POV]
There was blood on the snow.
It wasn't hers, but it always started the same.
Red against white. Her breath fogging in the frozen air. A shadow watching her from the trees. Silent. Still. Until it moved.
---
She ran.
Even though her legs felt heavy. Like the forest itself was trying to hold her back. Like it didn't want her to leave. Like it needed her to remember something.
---
A voice echoed through the trees, low and unrecognizable.
> "Lyra. You must wake up.
You were never just a girl."
---
She turned to look behind her—and the shadow was gone.
But in its place stood a mirror.
Old. Tall. Silver-framed. Out of place in the woods. But somehow… familiar.
She stepped closer.
Her reflection stared back. Only—it wasn't her.
The girl in the mirror had her eyes, but they glowed silver.
Her hair blew in a wind Lyra couldn't feel.
And on her neck—a glowing mark pulsed beneath the skin like fire trapped under glass.
---
Lyra touched the mirror.
It cracked.
And the world shattered.
---
She sat up with a scream.
---
[BACK IN REALITY]
She was back in the cabin. Alone.
Sweating. Heart racing. Throat dry.
She clutched the blanket around her like it could protect her from what she'd just seen—but the cold in her spine told her the dream wasn't a dream at all.
She could still feel the hum on her skin where the glowing mark had appeared in the reflection.
She threw the blanket off and scrambled to the mirror in the corner of the room.
Her reflection stared back—normal.
Except…
There. Just below her collarbone.
A faint shimmer. Barely visible.
But it was there.
---
Footsteps.
She turned sharply.
The door opened.
And Kairo stepped in, his coat still damp from the forest, a hint of frost clinging to his dark hair.
Their eyes met.
---
"You're back," she breathed.
He frowned, stepping closer. "You screamed."
Her voice cracked. "I—I saw something."
He paused. Something in his expression shifted. Not pity. Not fear.
Recognition.
---
"A dream?"
Lyra nodded. "But it wasn't just that. It felt... like a memory. Or a warning. There was this voice. A mirror. And a mark—on my chest."
She pulled down her neckline to show him. "It was glowing in the dream. Do you see anything?"
He stepped closer, eyes narrowing.
For a second, she thought he wasn't going to touch her.
But then he did.
Gently.
Fingertips brushing the faint shimmer on her skin.
His breath hitched—barely audible. But it was there.
---
"You've been marked."
"By who?"
His jaw clenched. "I don't know. But that's not natural. That mark… it's old magic. Something that predates the packs."
She pulled away, swallowing. "You said I wasn't just human. What if I'm something worse?"
Kairo's voice dropped to a near-growl.
"There are things worse than humans, Lyra. But you're not one of them. At least not yet."
---
She looked up at him, his expression unreadable.
"You don't trust me," she said.
He didn't deny it.
But his eyes betrayed him.
Because when she'd screamed, he came back.
Because even now, when he wanted to stay distant, he hadn't left the room.
Because when he touched her, his hand trembled like the truth scared him more than she did.
---
"I don't have the luxury to trust," he said finally.
"But you didn't let me die."
Silence.
Then—
"You screamed," he muttered. "That's all."
But they both knew it was more than that.
---
Before either of them could say more, a loud crack split the air outside the cabin.
A branch. Snapped.
Too close.
Too deliberate.
Kairo's head snapped toward the window.
Someone was out there.
Watching