The Alpha’s Eternal Mate

Midnight Crest Tower felt different tonight. The air was thick with unease, and every creak of the old building sent shivers down Lyra's spine. The revelation of her connection to the Crescent Line had shifted everything. There was no more hiding. No more pretending.

Ethan hadn't spoken much since she'd told him the truth, but his eyes never left her—not in anger, but in something far more complicated. Something that weighed heavily between them.

Now, in the dimly lit war room, she stood facing the monitors displaying the empty streets surrounding the tower. Logan and Amelia worked in silence, their fingers flying over keyboards, their expressions grim.

Ethan leaned against the table, arms crossed over his chest. "We need a plan," he said, his voice rough from exhaustion and frustration. "If they're after Lyra, they won't stop."

Lyra straightened, pushing aside the ache in her chest. "We need to find them first. End this before it escalates."

Logan let out a low whistle. "Easier said than done, sweetheart. We don't even know how deep this goes."

Amelia cleared her throat. "Actually, I might have something." She turned to the others, pulling up an encrypted message she had intercepted earlier. "It's coded, but the coordinates lead to an old industrial site on the outskirts of the city. The message mentioned 'the mark' and something about 'reclaiming what was stolen.'"

Lyra felt Ethan's gaze on her, the meaning clear. "They think I'm something they can take."

Ethan's jaw clenched. "They're wrong."

Lyra held his gaze, an unspoken promise passing between them. "Then we go."

Ethan didn't hesitate. "We move at dawn. Logan, gather the team."

Lyra grabbed his arm before he could walk away. "I'm coming too."

Ethan turned sharply. "No."

Lyra's eyes blazed. "Yes."

He exhaled, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Lyra, this isn't—"

"I'm not backing down," she cut him off, her voice firm. "This is my fight as much as it is yours."

Logan smirked from the sidelines. "You two are exhausting."

Ethan ignored him, stepping closer to Lyra, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You mean too much to me."

Lyra's heart stuttered, but she refused to let it sway her resolve. "Then trust me to handle myself."

A long, tense silence followed before Ethan sighed heavily. "Fine. But you follow my lead."

Lyra nodded, knowing it was the closest thing to a compromise she was going to get.

Industrial Site – Dawn

The air was thick with the scent of rust and decay as Ethan's team moved silently through the abandoned factory. Broken machinery lay scattered like forgotten relics of a bygone era, and the cracked windows let in only slivers of the pale morning light.

Lyra's pulse thrummed in her ears, her heightened senses picking up every creak, every whisper of movement in the shadows. She stayed close to Ethan, his presence both reassuring and suffocating.

Logan's voice crackled in her earpiece. "No signs of life yet, but something feels... off."

Ethan nodded, his eyes scanning the darkness ahead. "Stay sharp."

Lyra felt it too—an oppressive weight in the air, like they were walking into a trap.

A sudden noise echoed through the space, and everyone froze. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate.

From the shadows, figures emerged—clad in black, their eyes gleaming with something unnatural. Lyra recognized the emblem on their sleeves. The Blood Pact.

Ethan's stance shifted, his muscles tensed like a predator preparing to strike. "You should've stayed in the shadows," he said coldly.

A tall man stepped forward, his face partially obscured by a mask. His voice was smooth, laced with amusement. "And miss the chance to welcome the lost Luna home? Impossible."

Lyra's stomach turned. "I don't belong to you."

The man tilted his head. "But you do, Lyra. Your blood—your power—it's ours by right."

Ethan took a step forward, his voice a low growl. "You won't touch her."

The man smirked. "We'll see about that."

Without warning, chaos erupted.

The factory filled with the sounds of gunfire, growls, and the clash of bodies colliding. Lyra moved on instinct, dodging an incoming attacker and landing a swift kick to his ribs. Ethan was a blur of motion beside her, his strikes lethal and precise.

But they were outnumbered.

Lyra fought with everything she had, but it was clear the Blood Pact had been waiting for this moment. They were skilled, ruthless, and relentless.

She barely saw the man coming before a sharp pain exploded across her ribs, sending her sprawling to the ground. Gasping for breath, she tried to get up, but a boot pressed down on her chest.

The masked leader loomed over her, his expression triumphant. "You can't fight fate, little Luna."

Lyra struggled against his grip, rage burning through her veins. "Watch me."

Before he could react, Ethan was there, ripping the man away with a snarl. He threw him against the rusted machinery, his eyes burning with fury. "You don't touch her," he snarled.

Blood dripped from Ethan's knuckles, but he didn't stop, his movements feral, his instincts unleashed. Lyra could see it—the beast within him barely restrained.

The remaining Blood Pact members retreated into the shadows, their mission incomplete, but their message clear.

Lyra sat up, wincing. "This isn't over."

Ethan knelt beside her, his touch surprisingly gentle as he checked her for injuries. "No, it's not."

Logan jogged over, his face grim. "We need to go. Now."

Ethan helped Lyra to her feet, his eyes never leaving hers. "You okay?"

Lyra nodded, her jaw set. "I will be."

But deep down, she knew things were only going to get worse.

Midnight Crest Tower – Hours Later

Lyra stood by the window of Ethan's office, staring out at the city below. Her body ached, but it was nothing compared to the storm raging inside her mind.

Ethan entered quietly, placing a cup of tea beside her. She didn't turn, but she felt his presence.

"You should rest," he said softly.

Lyra sighed. "I can't."

Ethan moved closer, his hand brushing against hers. "We'll figure this out."

Lyra finally looked at him, her eyes searching his. "What if I can't stop them, Ethan?"

His jaw tightened, and he stepped even closer, his voice raw. "Then I'll stop them for you."

The weight of his words settled deep in her chest. She reached out, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips.

For a moment, there was no war, no Blood Pact—just them.

Ethan leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. "We'll get through this."

Lyra closed her eyes, allowing herself a brief moment of comfort. "Together."

And for now, that was enough.