Where we started

Lyra stood at the edge of the training ground, her sharp eyes scanning the scene in front of her. It had been a long day of planning, but now the real work was about to begin. Atlas had requested a private sparring session with her to test her skills, though she suspected it was more about seeing if the rogue council's so-called advisor was worth her weight in the field.

Her fingers itched to prove herself.

Atlas stepped into the training ring, his body tense with purpose. His usual confident stride was back, and for a brief moment, Lyra saw the boy she had once known, the boy she had trusted with her heart. But that memory was fleeting, replaced by the cool, calculated Alpha before her.

He looked different now. His body had filled out, more muscle than the lean teenager she remembered. His expression was harder, his gaze sharper. He no longer wore the weight of the future like a secret.. it was on full display for anyone who cared to notice.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice even, betraying no emotion.

Lyra smirked, cracking her knuckles. "I was born ready."

Without another word, Atlas lunged at her, moving with the speed and precision of an Alpha. Lyra dodged the first strike effortlessly, but the moment he came at her again, his fist connecting with her shoulder, she realized how much he had changed.

It wasn't just physical.

Atlas had always been a skilled fighter, but now there was a darkness in his moves, a controlled aggression that made him unpredictable. Lyra found herself on the defensive more than she liked, blocking and sidestepping his punches as they exchanged blows.

"You've gotten stronger." she said, ducking under a punch and spinning around to catch him in a swift kick to the side.

"You're not so bad yourself." he replied, his lips curling into a half-smile, though his eyes never softened.

Lyra's heart skipped a beat. There was something about the way he said it, like he was testing her, assessing how much had changed. How much she had changed.

She wasn't the same girl who had left the pack five years ago, uncertain and unsure of her place. The woman standing before him was no longer just the Beta's daughter. She had her own strength, her own purpose.

Still, she couldn't deny that part of her wanted to impress him, to prove that she hadn't fallen into the shadows like he'd probably expected.

"Don't hold back!" she challenged, taking a defensive stance.

Atlas's eyes darkened. "Wouldn't dream of it."

The fight resumed in full force, neither of them willing to give an inch. They moved like lightning, their bodies a blur of motion as they tested each other's limits. Lyra managed to land a few solid hits, but Atlas seemed to anticipate every move, his focus unwavering.

Finally, with a swift maneuver, Atlas pinned Lyra to the ground, his arm pressing down on her chest, his breath coming heavy.

"You're out of practice." he said, his voice low and teasing, but there was a hint of something else in it, something that made Lyra's pulse quicken.

She didn't flinch. "And you're getting cocky."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by her lack of defeat. But then his gaze softened just for a second, before he released her and helped her up.

"Not bad." he muttered, clearly trying to hide the respect in his voice.

Lyra grinned. "You're not so bad yourself, Atlas."

They stood there for a moment, the tension between them palpable, before Kade's voice broke the silence.

"Sorry to interrupt the ''love fest'', but we've got a meeting with the pack council." he called from the edge of the ring, a grin playing at the corner of his lips.

Lyra's stomach churned at the sound of Kade's teasing, but she quickly masked it with a smirk. "Thanks for the reminder, Kade. We'll finish this later."

Atlas gave Kade a curt nod. "Let's go."

Lyra followed them to the council's meeting room, the heaviness of the sparring match still lingering between her and Atlas. She couldn't shake the feeling that the walls they had once built were starting to crumble, piece by piece.

Inside the meeting room, the mood was tense. The rogue pack leaders had arrived, and Lyra could feel their eyes on her. They were waiting for her to offer insight, to speak as if she had all the answers.

But it wasn't that simple.

The rival pack was growing bolder by the day, their movements more erratic and dangerous. The threat they posed was real, deadly, even. The council needed a solid strategy, not just talk.

Lyra leaned forward, her fingers drumming lightly on the table. "We need to hit them where it hurts." she said, her voice steady and commanding. "Strike their resources, their supply lines, and cripple their ability to retaliate."

The council murmured, nodding in agreement.

"You're not wrong." one of the elder wolves said. "But how do you suggest we do that without overextending ourselves?"

Lyra glanced at Atlas, who was seated at the head of the table, watching her closely. She could feel the weight of his glance, but she didn't falter.

"We don't overextend. We move fast, hit hard, and retreat before they even know what's happening." She leaned forward, locking eyes with him. "We've got the manpower and the element of surprise. But it'll take coordination."

Atlas nodded slowly. "I like the plan. But how can we be sure they won't anticipate us?"

Lyra smirked. "Trust me. They won't see it coming."

The meeting ended on a note of reluctant agreement, and Lyra felt the familiar rush of adrenaline that always followed her tactical victories. But even as they parted ways, a gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that the battle ahead wouldn't just be with the rival pack.

It would be with the ghosts of her past.