12. ELOWEN

Chapter 12

ELOWEN

The world swims before my eyes, a kaleidoscope of blurred colors and disoriented sound.

The joyous chatter of my friends and the rustle of silk against my skin are all muted, drowned out by the deafening roar of rejection echoing in my soul.

Thorne. My supposed fated mate. The very man who ignited a fire within me with a single, searing kiss—has just doused it with a single, cruel sentence.

Rejected.

The word hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Sharp tendrils of pain snake their way through my body, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil tearing me apart. I crumple to the floor, and hot, angry tears spill down my cheeks. I vaguely hear Thorne's words and then the door closing.

My friends rush towards me with concerned faces. Anya's worried frown and Finn's hand reaching out to comfort me do little to pierce the thick fog of despair that has engulfed me.

They don't understand.

How could they?

They haven't had their hearts ripped out and stomped on by the one person they were supposed to trust, the one person destined to love them.

A sharp, searing pain explodes across my back, right between my shoulder blades.

It comes out of nowhere, a white-hot poker jabbed into my flesh. I gasp, the sound a strangled whimper lost in the storm raging inside me.

But the agony fades as quickly as it came, leaving behind a dull ache that throbs in rhythm with my broken heart.

Hatred, a foreign emotion, a bitter seed, takes root in the fertile soil of my heartbreak. He played me.

All this time, his distance, his aloofness – it was all a performance, a cruel charade to lull me into a false sense of security, only to shatter it with his callous rejection.

The anger burns through the fog of despair, a flickering flame against the encroaching darkness. I will not let him break me. I will not crumble under the weight of his rejection.

Elowen, the naive girl who dreamt of fated mates and happily ever after, is dead. In her place stands a woman scorned, a woman forged in the fires of betrayal. And Thorne… Thorne will rue the day he underestimated me.

But even as I vow vengeance, a single, chilling thought slithers into my mind.

What if the pain in my back… what if it has something to do with his rejection?

The thought is dismissed as quickly as it arrives, lost in the maelstrom of emotions threatening to consume me.

There's no time for such things now. There's only the cold, burning need to make him pay.

Anya's voice, laced with panic, cuts through the haze of despair. "Elowen! Wait!"

But my legs are already pumping, carrying me away from the suffocating room, away from the pitying stares, away from the searing agony of his rejection.

I don't know where I'm going. I don't care.

The forest explodes into a blur of green and brown, the familiar path morphing into a labyrinth of twisting trees and tangled undergrowth.

My lungs scream for oxygen, my legs protest with every pounding step, but I push them harder, faster. The only solace I find is in the punishing burn in my muscles, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil tearing me apart.

The ache in my back throbs with a dull insistence, a nagging counterpoint to the symphony of heartbreak playing in my head. But even that, even the physical pain, feels insignificant compared to the gaping wound Thorne has ripped open in my soul.

With a guttural cry, I hurl myself over a fallen log, the impact sending a jolt of pain through my already battered body. But I barely register it, my focus solely on putting distance between myself and the pack house and the searing memory of Thorne's cold rejection.

The forest deepens, the sunlight struggling to penetrate the dense canopy of leaves above. Thorns snag at my clothes, drawing blood, but I barely flinch. The physical wounds pale compared to the gaping chasm of betrayal that yawns within me.

Hours melt into a timeless blur of exhaustion and despair. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my legs trembling with fatigue. But still, I press on, driven by a primal need to escape the crushing weight of his rejection.

When I finally stumble to a halt, collapsing beneath the gnarled roots of an ancient oak, the world tilts on its axis. Tears stream down my face, and sweat drips from my brow. I'm lost, utterly and completely lost, both physically and emotionally.

A choked sob escapes my lips as I curl into a fetal position, the cold earth a poor substitute for the warmth I so desperately crave. The pain in my back throbs with a renewed intensity.

Maybe the legends were true. Maybe the mate bond did cause a physical connection. And maybe the dull ache was my body's way of mirroring the shattered bond I once thought I shared with Thorne.

The thought offers little comfort. In fact, it only deepens the despair threatening to consume me. Lost, heartbroken, and physically in pain—this is where Thorne's rejection has led me.

Gathering the last dregs of my strength, I push myself upright, the world swaying around me.

My vision blurs, and for a moment, I fear I might succumb to the exhaustion gnawing at my limbs. But the cold, unforgiving earth beneath me is a stark reminder of my situation.

I am alone, lost, and utterly vulnerable.

Taking a shaky breath, I try to recall the layout of the pack territory, searching for any landmark that might guide me back.

But the forest, once familiar and comforting, now appears alien and hostile. Every towering tree, every tangled undergrowth, looks identical.

Panic starts to claw at my throat.

Stumbling, I force myself to move. Fatigue weighs down my limbs, threatening to pull me under.

Just when I'm about to collapse, a guttural growl shatters the stillness of the night. My breath hitches, and I freeze, every instinct screaming at me to run. But my legs, already jelly, refuse to obey.

Slowly, I turn, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. Two glowing embers pierce the darkness, materializing into a pair of menacing eyes.

A low growl rumbles from the creature's throat, a sound that sends shivers down my spine. It's a lion shifter, its massive form barely visible in the faint moonlight.

Terror floods my veins, paralyzing me.

I know the legends of these solitary hunters, their ferocious strength, and their insatiable appetites.

My mind races, searching for an escape, but there's nowhere to run.

The lion lets out a deafening roar, the sound echoing through the trees. It takes a menacing step forward, the earth trembling beneath its weight.

My scream dies in my throat—a strangled gasp lost in the oppressive silence of the night.

Just as the lion lunges, a flash of movement catches my eye.

A blur of dark fur explodes from the undergrowth, slamming into the lion with enough force to send it sprawling. A massive wolf, larger than any I've ever seen, stands between me and the predator, its fangs bared in a snarl.

The lion, enraged by the sudden attack, fights with frantic aggression.

But the wolf is a force of nature, its movements powerful and precise. It dodges the lion's swipes with a dancer's grace, returning each blow with bone-crushing force.

I watch, mesmerized by the brutal ballet unfolding before me. Despite my fear, a sliver of hope flickers within me.

Maybe this wolf is my savior.

The fight doesn't last long.

With a final, bone-chilling snarl, the wolf delivers a devastating blow, sending the lion crashing to the ground with a sickening thud. It lets out a whimper, its fiery eyes dimming as life slowly drains from its body.

The wolf stands over its fallen prey for a moment, panting heavily. Then, its gaze turns towards me. My breath catches in my throat as those icy blue eyes meet mine.

Fear threatens to consume me again, but before I can react, the wolf lets out a low, mournful whine.

It takes a hesitant step towards me, its head lowered in a submissive gesture. The moonlight glints off its sleek fur, revealing a coat of the deepest black, almost shimmering with an otherworldly sheen.

Despite its intimidating size, its eyes no longer hold the same ferocity as before. Instead, they seem filled with a curious concern.

Hesitantly, I reach out a hand, offering it a tentative greeting. The wolf watches my hand for a long moment, then nudges it gently with its wet nose. Relief washes over me, so intense it almost brings tears to my eyes.

The wolf nudges my hand again, its touch surprisingly gentle for such a powerful creature.

A whimper escapes its throat, a sound that seems nearly apologetic. Maybe it sensed my despair, the raw vulnerability I radiated after Thorne's rejection.

As a sliver of hope blooms in my chest, a horrifying sound shatters the fragile peace. A guttural growl rips through the air, followed by a sickening thud.

My blood runs cold as I whip my head around.

Oh, Goddess!

The lion!

It's somehow managed to rise, its amber eyes burning with renewed fury. The battle with the wolf had sapped its strength but not killed it.

Now, its movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. But it was still a predator, and my primal fear roars back to life.

The wolf lets out a startled yelp as the lion lunges, tackling him to the ground with a bone-jarring impact. They roll across the forest floor in a tangle of fur and claws, the earth shuddering under their combined weight.

I want to scream for the wolf, my unexpected savior, but no sound escapes my parched throat.

Every fiber of my being screams at me to run, but my legs are rooted to the spot, a terrified spectator to the brutal fight unfolding before me.

A sickening snap echoes through the night. The wolf lets out a pained yelp, its hold on the lion momentarily loosening.

The lion seizes the opportunity, rearing up on its hind legs and slamming a massive paw down on the wolf's back. The wolf crashes to the ground with a bone-shattering crunch.

I scream in anguish. The wolf, my only hope, is clearly wounded, his movements labored. The lion lets out a triumphant roar, stalking towards me with a predatory leer.

I back away, tripping over exposed roots, the rough bark scraping against my skin. But there's nowhere to go. The dense undergrowth blocks my escape, and the wounded wolf lies whimpering a few feet away.

The lion stands before me, a towering monolith of teeth and claws. Its fetid breath washes over me, and a low growl rumbles from its throat before it lunges, pinning me to the ground with its massive paw.

Pain explodes through my body as its claws dig into my flesh, drawing a scream from my lips. I thrash and writhe under its weight, but it's no use. I'm a helpless rabbit caught in the clutches of a lion.

Tears stream down my face, and my vision blurs, the edges of the world fading into an inky blackness.

Just as I begin to lose consciousness, a dark blur explodes into view, slamming into the lion with enough force to send it sprawling.

It's the wolf!

Somehow, it has found the strength to rise and fight.

Thank Goddess.

It lunges at the lion, teeth bared in a ferocious snarl. The fight resumes, a whirlwind of fur and claws.

But this time, it's different. The wolf seems fueled by a newfound ferocity. This time, its attack is relentless and precise.

The lion, weakened from their previous bout, struggles to keep up. It lets out a series of pained roars as the wolf delivers blow after blow.

Finally, with a snap of its jaw, the wolf sends the lion crashing to the ground.

The lion remains motionless, a crimson stain blooming across its fur. The wolf stands over it for a moment, panting heavily. Then, its gaze turns towards me.

Instead of the expected triumphant roar, it lets out a low whine, a sound filled with concern.

With extreme effort, the wolf limps towards me, its dark fur slick with blood. It nudges my hand with its wet nose as its icy-blue eyes fill with an emotion I can't quite decipher. Relief washes over me as I stroke the matted fur.

"Thank you," My voice is a hoarse croak. The words feel inadequate, though.

But before I can say anything else, the world starts to spin. The pain from the lion's claws, the exhaustion from my ordeal, it all comes crashing down on me. My vision fades, and the forest floor rushes up to meet me.

And then there is nothing.

Black.