“I want to be free.”

The words fall from my lips like stones into still water. Final. Irreversible.

“No,” Theron’s voice cuts through the roon, raw and desperate. He takes a step forward, then stops himself, his hands clenching at his sides. “Kira, you can’t—”

“She can.” The King’s eyes flash gold, power rolling off him in waves. “And she will.” He turns to the Priestess, his voice dropping into command. “Lift the barrier. Now.”

The Priestess doesn’t flinch under his gaze. “Your Majesty—” Her voice is gentle but firm. “Mother-bond isn’t so easily undone. It requires specific conditions.”

“Then name them.” The King’s command rattles the windows, makes the flames in the hearth flicker and dance.

I look at Theron, staring at me like I’m something he’s never seen before. Like I’m already gone.

Maybe I am.

“Mother-bond is woven from a mother’s love, her fear, her very life force. Breaking it…” She pauses, her weathered face troubled. “Breaking it is not like severing a bond or lifting a curse. It’s like tearing through flesh.”

My stomach clenches. “But it can be broken?”

“Yes.” Her eyes meet mine, and I see the weight of what she’s about to say. “The spell can only be broken by someone of Kira’s own bloodline with equal or greater power.” She glances at the King, at Damon. “Or by Kira herself, if she’s strong enough.”

“She’s not strong enough.” Theron’s voice is hollow. “She shifted just a week ago. This will kill her.”

“It won’t,” Mira growls in my mind. “We’re stronger than he thinks.”

But am I? The cage has been part of me for so long I don’t remember what it feels like to exist without it.

“If it’s broken incorrectly,” the Priestess continues, her grip tightening slightly on my wrists, “the consequences could be severe. Mother-bond doesn’t let go easily. It was designed to protect, and it will fight to continue protecting.”

“You’re saying it could hurt her.” The King’s voice is tight.

“I’m saying it will hurt her.” The Priestess releases my wrists gently. “The question is how badly, and whether she’s willing to bear that pain.”

The silence that follows is suffocating.

I look down at my wrists, at the silvery brands that mark me as my mother’s daughter. Protected. Hidden. Caged.

She did this because she loved me. Because she couldn’t bear to lose me to a prophecy that demanded one twin’s death. But she’s gone now. And I’m still here, still trapped, still pretending to be small and weak and worthless.

I’m done pretending.

“I can bear it,” I say quietly.

“Kira—” Theron starts.

“I said,” My voice comes out harder than I intended, and I force myself to meet his eyes. “I can bear it.”

“Alright, this was charming and all, but tiring as hell.” Damon’s voice cuts through the room. He steps forward, pushing past his father, his movements predatory and graceful. “Can we stop the drama and focus on the task at hand?”

Mira snarls in my mind, but I keep my mouth shut.

Because he’s right, damn him.

“She can’t do it. But we’re twins.” Damon stops in front of me, close enough that I can see the silver flecks in his eyes—the same shade as mine. “Same blood. Same womb.” His smile is sharp. “Same power, just differently trained. Right, Lyralei?”

The name scrapes against my skin like broken glass.

“I’m not Lyralei.” The words come out harder than I intended. “I’m Kira.”

Something flickers across his face—surprise, maybe, or annoyance. “You were born as Lyralei Bloodmoon, Princess of—”

“And I was raised as Kira.” I force myself to hold his gaze. “That’s who I am.”

For a moment, we just stare at each other. Two strangers who shared a womb, who were supposed to kill each other before we could even speak.

His expression is unreadable, but his wolf presses against mine through the air between us—testing, measuring, claiming.

Then he shrugs. “Kira, then. For now.” He extends his hand, palm up. “Ready to be free, sister?”

The magic spreads through my body, searching, hunting. It finds the barrier my mother wrapped around me—that invisible cage that’s held me here for twenty-three years. I feel it the way you’d feel a scar, raised and tender and wrong.

I want it. Goddess see, I want it.

So I push. I throw every ounce of strength I have into that barrier, into that cage my mother built out of love and fear. Mira howls inside me, adding her power to mine, and together we tear.

Stay safe, it whispers. Stay hidden. Stay alive.

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