The wind whispered through the hollow bones of Castle Valen, stirring the ashes of the fallen banners. Lyra stepped carefully over a broken pillar, her heart pounding louder than her footsteps. The sky above her was bruised with dusk, and the air still smelled of smoke.
She shouldn't have come back. The castle had fallen three nights ago, her father killed in the siege, the loyal knights scattered or dead. But something had pulled her here—something in her chest that ached like a missing limb.
And then she saw him.
A boy stood at the heart of the ruins, half-shadowed by the dying light. His dark hair hung over his eyes, and his hands were stained red.
He turned slowly, as if he had felt her watching.
"You're not supposed to be here," he said.
Neither are you, Lyra wanted to reply, but her throat tightened when their eyes met. His gaze was cold—no, not cold. Sad. Like someone who had lost something he couldn't name.
"Who are you?" she asked.
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked at the ruined altar behind him, then back at her.
"A friend. Maybe," he said. "That depends on what you do next."
A sound behind her—boots on broken stone. Lyra turned just as Kael emerged from the darkness, sword drawn. His gray eyes locked on the stranger with sharp fury.
"Step away from her," Kael commanded.
"Kael—" Lyra began, but he moved fast, faster than she'd ever seen. He pushed in front of her, sword raised between her and the boy.
Riven didn't flinch. He only stepped back, hands raised, unarmed.
"I didn't touch her," he said. "But others will come who will. She's not safe. Not with what's inside her."
Kael growled low in his throat. "And what do you know about what's inside her?"
Riven met Lyra's eyes again. "More than she does."
She felt it then—the quiet spark inside her chest, pulsing like a second heartbeat. The Moonfire. Her secret. How did he know?
Before she could speak, Riven turned and vanished into the dark, like smoke curling into the wind.
Kael sheathed his sword and turned to her, voice tight. "Why did you come back, Lyra?"
She looked at the empty altar, the blood, the broken walls. "To remember," she whispered. "And now I think I've found something I wasn't meant to."