Chapter 5 : The Backdoor Secret

I gagged down the bitter, ruby-red wolf medicine, every swallow a burn, but the fever that had tormented me since Thorne Manor became a cold, unnerving clarity. My pulse slowed, my head cleared, and the single word Caspian had left me—Stay—pulsed in my mind like a silent, commanding drum. Stay? How could I stay when the locket, my mother’s final gift, burned in my thoughts like a live coal? Kael had it. Kael was strategic. And I needed answers.

I waited. Timing was everything. Kael’s private meetings were predictable. I slipped into the hallway, keeping to the shadows. Caspian’s wing was silent. Kael’s study was empty.

“In here,” I whispered, pressing the door open.

The study smelled sharp, antiseptic, ozone and meticulous organization. The locket wasn’t on his desk. Notebooks, drawers, filing cabinets—locked or empty.

“Focus, Lyra. Focus,” I muttered, flipping the desk tray, rifling through papers.

A hidden compartment under the keyboard stand yielded a small leather journal. Not passwords. Coordinates. Dates. Locations.

I cross-referenced them with the digital map on his screen. Seven points, converging. The final one directly beneath Thorne Manor. Ancient seal ritual.

My pulse jumped. Then came the documents. Sub-folder: ‘Adoption Compliance.’ Not mine. My parents’. Betrayal slammed into me like a fist.

"The target territory, designated ‘Silver Territory,’ cannot be absorbed through standard merger. Requires activation of the bloodline through the dormant ‘Lyra’ subject. Containment and neutralization of maternal bloodline successful via staged accident. Subject Lyra must remain low-scent until the seventh seal is activated."

I froze. My heart raced. The Thornes weren’t just hiding secrets—they were orchestrating a hostile takeover of my family, using me.

I downloaded the files to an external drive, fingers trembling.

“Looking for something you lost?”

I spun. Rune. His immense frame blocked the doorway, dark sweater, jeans, lethal presence.

“Where’s Kael?” I whispered, shielding the monitor with my body.

“Indisposed. Caspian’s gone. Father is with counsel. I was assigned to observe the environment,” he said, slow, deliberate.

“You’re supposed to be in the basement,” I hissed.

“Confinement is relative,” he said, stepping closer. His eyes scanned the scattered documents. Silver Territory. Bloodline activation. Staged accident. He absorbed it all without a flicker.

“You know,” I accused, “you know what your father is doing. You’ve seen this before.”

Rune didn’t speak. He moved past the desk, past the documents, to a small filing cabinet. The lowest drawer. Inside, a folder. He opened it. Printed names. Dates. Sectors.

He pointed: Lyra. Ward. Attic Residence.

The word Purge wasn’t bold or flashy—it was final. I was on a hit list. Slated for elimination before the seventh seal could be activated.

I gasped. “This… this is a kill list.”

Rune didn’t answer. He pushed the folder into my trembling hands. His silence screamed: Time is short. You are not safe.

Then he locked the door with a click that echoed like a gunshot. Seconds mattered.

I stared at the last entry. Lyra. Ward. My blood ran cold. My mother’s gift, the locket, Kael’s obsession with it—they were all connected.

“Why are you here?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Rune’s red-rimmed eyes didn’t move from mine. He didn’t answer with words. He gave me the barest tilt of his head: Understand. Decide. Move.

I barely had time to process when the door exploded inward. Mahogany splintered. Papers scattered like frightened birds.

Lord Thorne. The man, the Alpha, the predator, filled the doorway. His presence was a physical weight, crushing. His scent—anger, dominance, raw Alpha energy—pushed the air from my lungs.

He didn’t look at me. He looked at Rune. His voice, low, lethal, shaking with cold fury:

“What are you doing, son? You were guarding the boundaries. Did the orphan touch you?”

I froze, the documents slipping from my fingers. Rune’s silent defiance and my exposure were visible to the highest authority.

Lord Thorne’s gaze sharpened on the folder in my hands. His eyes darted to the screen, the coordinates, the ritual, the purge list. Every movement is calculated. Every muscle is ready.

“Explain,” he said, each word a controlled blade.

Rune’s jaw tightened. He didn’t move toward his father, didn’t cower, didn’t speak. His silence spoke louder than any defense.

“I… I just found this,” I said, voice shaking, holding the folder out. “The… the documents. The locket, the seal, the—”

“Shut it,” Lord Thorne cut in, eyes like ice and fire. “Do not speak unless spoken to. Lyra, you are not a child. You are the key. The final component. You do not have the luxury of ignorance anymore.”

I swallowed hard. “I… I didn’t even know it was important. I was just trying to see what it opened.”

Kael’s warning echoed in my mind: You are a threat to us. But seeing Lord Thorne, the man who orchestrated centuries of control, staring at me like I was a live fuse—fear was a tangible, suffocating thing.

Lord Thorne’s hand shot out. He snatched the folder, flipping through it with a speed that left me reeling. Then the papers went flying, scattered across the polished floor like dead leaves.

Rune moved, a shadow in the room, blocking the way. His muscles coiled, a predator ready to strike if the Alpha overstepped.

Lord Thorne’s voice dropped lower, deadly calm: “You know why this is here. You know what this means. Explain the movement, Rune. Why is she exposed? Why is the locket… activated?”

Rune didn’t answer. He let the folder slide from his fingers, standing silent, tense.

“I should burn it all,” Lord Thorne growled, the threat in his voice visceral. “Destroy the records. Eliminate the loose ends. All of them.”

“No,” Rune said, his voice finally a low, rough rumble that carried through the room like gravel. “She sees the truth. She knows the plan. Killing her now won’t fix anything. It will expose us all.”

Lord Thorne’s eyes narrowed, red and black in shadow. “Do you defy me, son?”

Rune’s lips twitched into the faintest ghost of a smile. “Not defiance. Survival. Both hers and ours.”

I felt it—the weight, the tension, the danger, the impossible choice stretching through the room like a taut wire. My pulse raced, fingers trembling on the edge of the folder.

“What happens now?” I whispered, almost to myself.

Lord Thorne’s eyes flicked to me, and for a split second, I saw calculation, danger, something ancient, and something… personal. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t speak another word. But the room vibrated with the unspoken command: Every second counts. One wrong move, and it’s over.

Rune’s gaze met mine. No words. Just presence. Silent promise. Warning. Protection.

The heavy door behind us groaned. Lord Thorne didn’t leave. He didn’t move. He just watched, measuring, waiting.

I clutched the folder, the locket burning in my mind, every instinct screaming that my life had changed irreversibly. I wasn’t just a ward anymore. I was the key, the target, and the pawn in a game older than I could comprehend.

And I had no idea if I’d survive the next move.