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VOWS FOR VENGEANCE

VOWS FOR VENGEANCE

Amir_writes

5.0
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In a world where the Moon Goddess weaves the threads of fate, Lyra's life is shattered when the man she was destined for, the powerful Alpha of her pack, rejects her for a rival's daughter. Heartbroken and betrayed, she watches as her replacement, the beautiful and cruel Isabella, rises to power, treating her like a mere slave. With each day spent in servitude, Lyra's spirit grows darker, fuelling her desire for revenge. As she uncovers secrets that could tip the balance between the packs, she discovers a strength within herself she never knew existed. But as her quest for vengeance unfolds, will Lyra embrace her fate, or will the shadows of her past consume her?

Chapter 1 Destined Night

"Are you ready?" Nia whispered, a glint in her eyes as she handed Lyra a small vial of rose-scented oil. "You have to make a good impression tonight."

Lyra took it, her hands slightly trembling. "I don't know if that's possible," she murmured, uncorking the vial. The oil was faint but soothing, calming the quickening beat of her heart. "What if... what if he doesn't even show?"

Nia snorted, leaning against the doorframe of Lyra's small room. "He'd be a fool not to. You're the Beta's daughter, Lyra. And tonight..." She let the words linger, her smirk widening. "Tonight, you're eighteen. That's destiny right there."

Karma. The word hummed in her brain, a promissory note of hope and an unsettling weight all in one. She'd dreamed of this night a million times since she was a kid and heard the legends of the mates finding one another under the watch of the Moon Goddess. She'd see that all tonight. Maybe.

Moonlight filtered in through the small window, casting silvery streaks across her floor. Lyra inhaled deeply and looked down at her reflection in the cracked mirror. The dark hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, framing her sharp features. She smoothed out her simple dress and closed her eyes, willing herself to stay calm. Just breathe.

"You're going to knock him dead," Nia said, breaking the silence. "Or... you know, hopefully not, since he's supposed to be your soulmate."

Lyra chuckled, shaking her head. "Thanks, Nia. That's helpful."

"Hey, you should be thanking me. I even swiped that oil from the infirmary for you." Nia winked, a mischievous gleam lighting her dark eyes. "Now, come on! Everyone's already out there, and I am not missing your grand entrance."

They slipped out of Lyra's room and into the winding hallways of the pack house. The familiar stone walls felt different tonight, more alive, humming with the murmurs of the pack gathering outside. Lyra's heart pounded with each step as they neared the main hall.

The cool night air washed over her as they stepped outside, where the entire pack was assembled in a wide circle beneath the full moon's glow. Bonfires crackled at the edges, casting long shadows over the trees, and voices buzzed with excitement.

"Beta's daughter!" someone called out, a mix of admiration and curiosity lacing the words. She felt their eyes on her, a hundred pairs of curious, watchful eyes, all anticipating the moment she'd find her mate.

But her eyes searched for one face in particular. Desmond.

"There he is," Nia whispered, nodding toward the centre of the circle where Desmond stood, tall and commanding, his broad shoulders framed by the moonlight. Lyra's pulse quickened as she took in his form, the way he seemed to radiate authority, his green eyes scanning the crowd.

She took another step closer, her eyes catching his. His expression gentled, just a little, his mouth lifting in a tiny, almost imperceptible smile.

She felt her breath catch, and hope fluttered in her chest. This was it. She could feel it, the pull between them, some invisible string that tied them together.

"Lyra," a deep voice whispered beside her, pulling her out of her trance. Turning, she saw her father, Eldric, there, his warm brown eyes proud. "Tonight's the night. Trust in the Goddess."

"I do," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She let herself lean into the warmth of her father's hand on her shoulder for a moment until he released her and nodded for her to step forward.

Every step taken toward the centre of the circle weighed the night heavier on Lyra's shoulders. She could feel Desmond's gaze-lock down upon her with that now-familiar intensity, his eyes inscrutable. The complete stillness of the pack fell, all their eyes on them, and waited.

An odd energy crackled through the air. She could feel it right down to her bones-the surge of anticipation, the swell of pride for the pack. She stood tall, her chin lifted high, feeling every inch the Beta's daughter as she prepared to meet her mate.

The silence was at last broken. Isabella stepped forward, her auburn hair catching the firelight, a wicked glint in her blue eyes, as with languorous ease, she strolled across to Desmond. She came right up beside him, playing on her lips a smile as if aware of some secret that no one else knew.

Lyra's heart stopped, her pulse loud in her ears. Desmond's eyes darted to Isabella and then back to Lyra, his jaw clenched.

"Desmond," Isabella purred, though loudly enough for everyone to hear. "I think you owe everyone an announcement."

Lyra's stomach twisted as dread began to seep in. She looked to Desmond for an answer, for reassurance of some sort. He turned away, his features setting hard, his shoulders rigid.

"I..." He paused, and the people held their breath as the moment stretched.

Finally, his voice rose, a note final in the tone. "Tonight, I declare my mate."

Hope swelled inside Lyra, her heart leaping. It was it. She moved a step forward, but he didn't look at her. He was staring at Isabella.

I choose Isabella as my Luna," Desmond declared, his voice firm, loud for the pack to hear.

A sharp gasp escaped Lyra as her chest constricted, the words sinking in. Whispers exploded- a wave of shock rolled through the crowd. She felt the comforting touch of Nia's hand on her arm, but her legs were jelly, about to give out at any second.

Isabella's smile spread, her eyes darting to Lyra with a smirk of victory and taunt. Lyra could feel the laughter in the glint of cruel satisfaction in Isabella's eyes.

She turned to Desmond, praying that somehow he had made a mistake, that he would look at her-look at her-and find the mistake in what he had done. But his eyes were cold, distant as if the bond that was supposed to exist between them had never been more than a transitory whim.

"Desmond..." Her voice came out in a whisper, a little above silent, her heart breaking, literally, at the sight of his reaching for Isabella's hand, the certainty of his decision conveyed in every inch of his stance.

He looked at her then, but it wasn't the look she'd hoped for. No heat there, no regret-only resolution.

For the pack's good, Lyra," he whispered, his words barely audible to her above the murmurs of the crowd.

The father moved forward, inserting himself between her and Desmond, his hand falling again on her shoulder, but this time the warmth had become something different, a comforting weight to steady her.

She felt numb-just vaguely registering the prick of tears in her eyes as the crowd dispersed, the whispers dissolving into the night. She did not remember how she made it to her room, only that Nia was there with her, silent, a mask of anger and sorrow etched upon her face.

Lyra collapsed back onto her bed, her mind reeling. Destiny, fate... all that she had ever believed in was gone, leaving only an aching emptiness. She felt the weight of her own shattered heart, its every beat an echo of what would never be.

And for the very first time in her life, Lyra felt utterly alone.

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