Lyra’s POV

That bracelet.

I stared at it, memories flooding in my head.

I was five years old and my mother was still with us. Father never spoke to her but he still tolerated her until he discovered I was wolfless.

I had been going through her things when I saw it. They were two bracelets, each holding a half moon. One was white and the other was a black half moon.

“Mom, can I have it?” I asked.

She had been reluctant. But in the end, she placed it over my wrist. “There’s only one of its kind, Lyra. Promise me to take care of it.”

I nodded.

But...