ets, my king," she said in her deepest voice, bowing her head. "Just coal dust and hard work." A hint of a smile touched the Wolf King's face. He circled her slowly, like

th growled. "The king will see through you soon enough." A wolf guard appeared at the door. "You. New boy. Come with me." Lyra followed the guard across the torch-lit courtyard. Her mind spun with questions. How had she fixed that blade? Why did it feel so natural? And most importantly, how would she find Mara now? The guard led her not to the workers' quarters but to a small room beneath the main keep. It had a proper bed, a washing basin, and even a window-luxuries no ordinary worker got. "King's orders," the guard grunted. "You'll start your new duties at dawn." When the door closed behind him, Lyra sank onto the bed, her legs shaking with delayed fear. She'd come face to face with the Wolf King and survived. But for how long could she keep up this act? She pulled out Mara's map again. Her new room was closer to the dungeons-and to the ritual cell marked with a blood-red X. According to the map, there was a secret passage connecting the lower floors of the keep. If she could find it... A knock at the door made her quickly hide the map. The door swung open to show a stooped old woman with milky white eyes-blind. "I am Elara," the woman said, bringing a tray of food. "The king's healer." "Thank you," Lyra whispered, taking the tray. The old woman didn't leave. Instead, she tilted her head as if listening to something Lyra couldn't hear. "Curious," Elara whispered. "Your heart beats like a frightened bird's, yet you faced the king without flinching." Her blind eyes seemed to see right through Lyra's mask. "What brings you to the wolf's den, brave one?" Lyra nearly dropped the tray. Could this woman know her secret? "I came to work," she answered slowly. Elara smiled, showing teeth filed to points. "We all have our reasons for being here. Some by choice, some by fate." She reached out, her fingers touching Lyra's cheek. "And some by love." Before Lyra could answer, Elara pressed something cold into her palm. A key. "The middle levels are least guarded when the wolves hunt at midnight," the old woman whispered. "Blood calls to blood." With that cryptic message, she shuffled away, shutting the door softly behind her. Lyra uncurled her fingers to study the key. It was made of the same strange blue metal as the blade she'd fixed, with tiny runes etched into its surface. What door would it open? More importantly, how did Elara know she was looking for someone? Lyra ate quickly, then prepared for bed. She couldn't make her move tonight-too many guards would be watching the new smith who'd caught the king's interest. Tomorrow, she needed to learn the castle's rhythms, find the changing of the guards, spot the dungeons. As she lay in darkness, a howl rose outside her window-long, sad, hungry. Another answered, then another, until a chorus of wolf voices filled the night. The Blood Moon was coming. Time was running out for Mara. Sleep finally claimed her, but her dreams were disturbed. She saw Mara chained in darkness. She saw King Kael's amber eyes watching her. And weirdest of all, she saw herself standing before a glowing altar, blue fire dancing over her skin as she worked metal no human should be able to touch. Lyra woke to a rough hand shaking her shoulder. A different guard stood over her bed. "Get up," he ordered. "The

ands. The moment it touched her skin, the runes flared bright blue. A jolt shot up her arms, and th