The Alpha’s Eternal Mate

The corridors of Midnight Crest Tower pulsed with tension as Lyra and Ethan moved swiftly through the labyrinth of hallways. The distant hum of the alarms provided a steady beat to their hurried steps, the red emergency lights casting eerie shadows across the steel walls.

Lyra's heart pounded in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins like liquid fire. Every instinct screamed at her that something was wrong—something worse than just a few intruders.

Ethan's voice was calm but razor-sharp. "Logan, status."

Logan's voice crackled through the earpiece. "We've got two hostiles pinned down near the north entrance. Amelia's team is holding them off, but there's movement on the rooftop."

Ethan's eyes darkened. "The rooftop?"

Lyra exchanged a worried glance with him. "They're trying to find a way in that bypasses security."

He nodded grimly. "We need to cut them off."

Without hesitation, they changed course, sprinting toward the upper levels. Lyra's heels clicked against the cold floors, and Ethan's presence beside her was an anchor amidst the rising storm.

As they reached the rooftop access, Ethan held up a hand, signaling her to wait. "Stay behind me."

Lyra rolled her eyes. "Ethan, I swear—"

But before she could finish, the door burst open, and a figure lunged at them from the shadows.

Ethan moved faster than Lyra could blink, intercepting the attack with a brutal punch that sent the intruder sprawling to the floor. He pressed his knee against the man's chest, his voice dangerously low. "Who sent you?"

The man grinned, blood trickling down his lip. "You'll find out soon enough."

Lyra stepped closer, her instincts on high alert. There was something unsettling about the man's eyes—cold, emotionless. She knelt beside him, her voice calm but laced with steel. "Why are you here?"

The man's gaze flickered to her, and for a brief second, something flashed in his eyes—recognition. Lyra's breath caught.

He knew who she was.

Ethan caught the look and his patience snapped. He yanked the man up by the collar. "Talk."

The intruder chuckled weakly, coughing up blood. "She's marked," he rasped. "They won't stop until they have her."

Lyra felt a cold shiver down her spine.

Ethan's grip tightened. "Who?"

Before the man could respond, a faint click echoed through the air. Lyra's eyes widened. "Ethan—!"

The explosion hit before they could react. The blast sent them flying backward, a blinding flash of light and heat tearing through the rooftop. Lyra hit the ground hard, the impact rattling her bones as a sharp pain shot through her side.

She blinked, trying to focus through the ringing in her ears. Smoke curled around them, obscuring the view. "Ethan?" she coughed.

Strong hands pulled her up. Ethan's face swam into view, blood dripping down his temple. "I've got you," he said, his voice strained but steady.

Lyra clutched his arm, gasping. "He was stalling."

Ethan's eyes flickered with rage. "Yeah, and I fell for it."

The rooftop was a mess of debris, and the intruder was nowhere to be found—only the lingering scent of burnt explosives and the knowledge that their enemies were far more dangerous than they had anticipated.

Ethan tugged Lyra forward. "We need to regroup."

Lyra nodded, her legs shaky but functional. They made their way down the emergency stairwell, every step heavy with frustration and the weight of what they now knew.

Midnight Crest Tower – War Room

Logan paced the length of the war room, his hands running through his hair. "This isn't just some rival pack trying to make a move. This is something bigger."

Amelia sat at the control panel, typing furiously as screens flickered with security footage. "I managed to recover partial comms from the intruders," she said. "They kept referring to the mark."

Lyra stiffened. "The mark?"

Amelia turned to her, worry etched into her face. "You."

Ethan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "What the hell does that mean?"

Lyra swallowed hard, her mind racing. "It means they know I'm not just any wolf."

Logan crossed his arms. "What aren't you telling us, Lyra?"

She hesitated, feeling Ethan's intense gaze on her. She'd always known her return would stir questions, but now there was no hiding from the truth.

"I wasn't just Ethan's Luna," she admitted, her voice quiet. "I was something more. Something... powerful."

Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

Lyra took a deep breath. "The Blood Pact isn't after me because of who I was to you, Ethan. They're after me because of what I am."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly are you?"

She met Ethan's gaze, her voice steady despite the storm within. "The last descendant of the Crescent Line."

Silence fell over the room.

Ethan's expression darkened. "The Crescent Line? That's a myth."

Lyra shook her head. "No, it's not."

The Crescent Line—an ancient bloodline of werewolves said to possess the power of the moon itself. Thought to have died out centuries ago. But Lyra knew better.

Logan let out a low whistle. "That explains a lot."

Ethan's fists clenched. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Lyra's voice softened. "Because I didn't want you to look at me differently."

Ethan stepped closer, his voice laced with frustration and something else—something raw. "Lyra, I don't care what you are. I care that you're in danger."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I can protect myself."

Ethan cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek. "Not from this."

Lyra closed her eyes briefly, leaning into his touch before pulling away. "We don't have time for this, Ethan. They're coming."

Ethan's expression hardened. "Then let them."

Logan groaned. "Great. Alpha-mode activated."

Lyra smirked despite herself. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Ethan's eyes locked onto hers. "We end this. Together."

Lyra nodded, her determination solidifying. "Together."

But deep down, she knew the battle ahead would test them in ways they weren't ready for.

And this time, survival wasn't guaranteed.