Kira’s eyes flew open at the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor towards her room.
Her senses picked out who it was before he’d covered half the distance, and she moved fast, snapping the bracelet closed around her wrist and letting her body go slack against the pillows as though she’d never stirred at all.
She pulled her scent and her aura back down into herself, folding them away until what was left felt thin and drained. Weak. Exactly what they expected of her.
Since she’d arrived, all she’d seen were Viktor and the rest of the Umbras. Not a whisper about Tyron. Not a footstep, not a shadow, not so much as his name spoken carelessly within earshot.
Two days gone and nothing to show for it. Time to start getting what she’d actually come for.
The door creaked open, slowly, and Viktor strolled in with that smug little smirk already fixed on his face. He stood at the foot of the bed and studied her for a long moment before coming closer.
"Hey. Getting your beauty sleep?"
Kira stirred and let out a low, hoarse grunt, dragging her eyes half open. "Viktor?" she mumbled. "Why can’t I feel my powers? There’s nothing there."
Viktor chuckled, clearly delighted with himself. "I’d say you’re about to find out. You’ve got a meeting with the Queen."
Kira’s brow creased. "The Queen?"
She had never heard of a queen, only of the Shadow King’s wife — the one people said was even more dangerous.
Her heart gave a hard kick against her ribs. She caught it, steadied it, and let her breathing stay slow and shallow.
"Get up," Viktor said. "Follow me."
She obeyed without a word, shuffling after him with her shoulders rounded and her steps small and unsteady.
And behind her lowered lashes, her eyes worked, carefully noting every blind spot and every guard they passed.
Viktor led her quietly down several long passages until they reached a set of double doors. He shoved them open and stepped aside, tipping his head for her to go through first.
Kira stepped inside and found herself in a throne room.
The space was vast and carried an antique feel. Tall marble columns lined both sides, rising high into a coffered ceiling from which crystal chandeliers hung. Between the columns, rows of red velvet chairs stood in neat lines.
A long red carpet ran the full length of the floor, leading straight to a raised dais at the far end. A single throne sat there beneath sweeping curtains of deep red silk.
She was so busy taking in the columns and the ceiling and the exits that she didn’t notice the woman sitting on the throne until the woman spoke.
"We meet again," said a voice.
Kira went still. She knew that voice. She’d known it her entire life. She blinked, walked forward a few paces, and found Lydia seated on the throne with one hand draped over the arm of the throne.
A laugh escaped Kira’s throat before she could stop it, short and disbelieving, because all at once every loose piece she’d been carrying around for years slotted neatly into place.
"Wow," she said. "Why am I not even surprised?"
Lydia rose and came down from the dais, and Kira couldn’t help staring. Lydia had always been beautiful, the sort of beautiful that made people forgive her slights. But this was something else. She looked taller somehow, brighter, like whatever she’d been hiding under all those years had finally been allowed out into the light.
"Leave us," Lydia said, tilting her head towards the door.
Viktor bowed low and withdrew, the doors thudding shut behind him.
"So it was you," Kira said. "You were the one poisoning me all my life."
It wasn’t a question, but Lydia answered anyway.
"Yes." She stepped off the last stair and started towards her. "I had to keep you alive until today."
"How did you know what I was?"
"The day you shifted as a baby." Lydia began to circle her slowly, her heels clicking against the marble. "I was fortunate enough to be the first to see it." She came to a stop directly in front of Kira. "You see, I came to Moonfang looking for a way in. A way to hollow it out from the inside, bring the werewolves under us, and turn them on the Lycans for what they did to my husband." Her mouth curved. "And instead I found something far more valuable."
Kira’s brows drew together. "So you’re an Umbra."
Lydia smiled and reached out to pat her cheek. "Clever girl. You always were a clever girl." Her hand dropped. "You can call me that if you like. But I’m a rather special sort."
Kira’s mind was already racing ahead. "Then how did nobody ever find out? How does Rolf still think you’re his fated mate?"
Lydia laughed and walked back to the throne, settling into it and crossing one leg over the other. "So many questions all at once, my dear Kira. Which shall I answer first?" She examined her nails. "Have you ever wondered how you came by that name?"


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