14. ELOWEN

Chapter 14

ELOWEN

Pain explodes through my body and jolts me awake.

Groaning, I try to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washes over me, forcing me back down onto the soft surface beneath me.

My vision swims, blurry images flickering before my eyes.

Then, memories come crashing down in a relentless torrent: the rejection, the desperate flight through the forest, the terrifying encounter with the lion, the… wolf?

A sliver of hope flickers amidst the despair. The wolf, its icy blue eyes and fierce defense—had it saved me?

The thought brings little comfort. Even if it had, I was hopelessly lost, injured, and utterly alone.

Blinking away the haze of pain and confusion, I take stock of my surroundings. I'm in a room unlike any I've ever seen. The walls are crafted from dark, polished wood adorned with intricate carvings depicting wolves in various poses.

A large woven rug covers the floor, and soft furs are piled high in the corner. The scent of woodsmoke and something herbal lingers in the air.

I gasp as the door creaks open, revealing a woman clad in a simple brown robe. Her eyes widen in surprise.

"You're awake!" she exclaims, rushing towards me. Her voice is warm and gentle, starkly contrasting to the harsh tones that have echoed in my mind for the past few hours.

"Where am I?" I croak, my throat dry and scratchy. The woman, her face kind and lined with age, smiles at me reassuringly.

"You're safe now, child," she says, placing a cool hand on my forehead. "You're in the Silver Crescent Pack, and I'm Elara, the pack healer."

The name "Silver Crescent Pack" strikes a faint chord of memory. Wasn't that where Thorne's… where his pack was located? Disbelief washes over me.

"Thorne?" I rasp out, the name a betrayal on my lips. "Did… did he bring me here?"

A flicker of surprise crosses Elara's face, but she recovers quickly. "Yes, child," she says gently. "He found you in the forest, injured and unconscious. He brought you back here to his pack."

My mind reels.

Thorne, the man who rejected me, the man who played with my emotions, brought me here?

Fury flares up within me. Did he think I was a toy to cast aside and then play with when he felt like it?

"Why?" I manage to whisper. Elara hesitates, her gaze flickering away from mine.

"He…" she begins, then stops, her lips pressed into a thin line. "He was worried about you."

"Worried?" I repeat sarcastically. "Or is this just some elaborate… game? First, he rejects me, and then he plays the hero? Does he think I'm some gullible village girl who will fall for such cheap tricks?"

Elara winces at my outburst, but her voice remains steady. "I don't know his motives, child. But he brought you here, injured and unconscious. That much is true."

A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "He brought me back? Saved me?" I echo, the irony dripping from my words. "He's the reason I was out there in the first place!"

Elara frowns. "What do you mean, dear?"

I clench my jaw, a surge of anger and resentment coursing through me.

Do I really want to relive the humiliation of his rejection with a complete stranger?

No! I'm out of here.

Ignoring my throbbing pains, I push myself off the bed in a single, jerky motion. Dizziness washes over me, threatening to send me crashing back down. But I grit my teeth, fueled by a desperate need to escape.

"Wait!" Elara cries out.

But her words fall on deaf ears. I stumble towards the door. Every muscle in my body screams in protest, but I push on, only seeking escape.

The door swings open, and I burst out into the hallway. Bright sunlight assaults my eyes, forcing me to squint. The outside air, crisp and cool, jolts me awake.

My head throbs with a dull ache, the pain radiating out from the wounds on my body. Each step is a monumental effort. But I keep moving. My only goal is to get as far away from Thorne and this pack as possible.

A gasp sounds behind me, but I don't bother turning around. I just keep walking, the forest floor blurring beneath my feet.

Suddenly, a slender figure appears before me, blocking my path. I look up, my vision blurry, and I see a woman staring at me with wide, frantic eyes.

Her appearance throws me off guard. Unlike the stoic Elara, this woman is all wild energy, her clothes a mismatched mess of vibrant colors and her hair a tangled mess of fiery red braids.

"You…" she begins, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and urgency. "You are the fated one! The one who will save us all!"

Her words come out in a breathless rush, nonsensical and garbled. I stare at her, confusion warring with the ever-present anger simmering within me. Save us all? What is this woman talking about?

Just as I'm about to voice my question, Elara appears behind her, grabbing the woman's arm firmly.

"Grace," Elara scolds gently, "calm down. Let me explain things to her properly."

The woman, Grace, throws Elara a defiant look but eventually relents. She turns back to me, her eyes still blazing with an unsettling intensity.

"You have to listen," she pleads, her voice softer now but no less urgent. "There's a prophecy, an ancient one… it speaks of a darkness rising, threatening to consume the world. Only the fated one, marked by the moon and the wolf, can stop it."

Grace's words are like gibberish, a nonsensical jumble that only adds to my growing disorientation. The pain in my body throbs and the woman's manic assertions are starting to give me a headache.

Before I can even attempt to process any of this, Elara steps forward, placing a calming hand on my shoulder.

"Come back inside, child," she says gently. "Let me take care of your wounds. Then, I can explain everything."

Grace opens her mouth to protest, but Elara cuts her off with a firm look.

Collapsing back onto the bed, exhausted and overwhelmed, I allow Elara to usher me back into the room. Collapsing back onto the bed, I close my eyes, willing the world to stop spinning.

Elara sits beside me, her touch surprisingly cool and comforting against my burning skin. "Don't worry," she whispers. "I'll explain everything that has happened. Just… try to rest."

Despite the gnawing pain in my body and the turmoil within my soul, exhaustion claims me. The last thing I register before sleep takes hold is Elara's soft voice, weaving a tale that promises to change my life forever.

When I awaken, sunlight streams through the window, casting a warm glow across the room.

The initial wave of pain has dulled to a throbbing ache, but my body still feels heavy and sluggish. Elara sits beside me with a concerned frown etched on her kind face.

"How are you feeling?" she asks gently.

"Sore," I croak. "But alive. Thank you for taking care of me."

Elara smiles. "You're welcome, child. Now, there's a lot to explain."

Taking a deep breath, she launches into a detailed account of the events leading up to my arrival.

I learn that Thorne found me unconscious in the forest, my body ravaged by wounds. He brought me back to the Silver Crescent Pack, claiming me as his mate, to everyone's surprise.

Elara pauses. "He… well, he made a mistake," she continues hesitantly. "He rejected you, believing you weren't his fated mate. But then, when you were injured…"

My mind races back to the moment the searing pain erupted on my back just as Thorne rejected me.

Instinctively, I reach around, and my fingers brush against the tender skin below my shoulder. Memory of the sharp pain floods back.

"The marks," Elara whispers, confirming my suspicion. "When you were hurt, the Moon Mark and the Wolf Mark appeared on your back. That's when Thorne realized his mistake."

My heart hammers against my ribs. So, the pain, the searing agony I felt—it wasn't just heartbreak. It was the physical manifestation of the broken bond, the rejection of the fated mate bond.

A bitter laugh escapes my lips, a humorless sound. "The fated mate bond," I scoff. "Sounds more like a cruel joke to me."

Elara's expression softens. "I know this is a lot to take in," she says gently. "But the bond is real, Elowen. It's a powerful connection, a reason why Thorne was so desperate to find his mate."

"Find his mate?" I repeat, my voice laced with suspicion. "Or find someone who could help him with his… prophecy?"

Elara hesitates, then nods slowly. "Yes. There's a prophecy—an ancient one that speaks of a darkness rising, threatening to consume the werewolf world. The prophecy also speaks of a fated mate marked by the moon and the wolf, who will stand beside the Alpha and fight this darkness."

Her words echo, each syllable carrying the weight of a monumental truth. I, Elowen, the rejected, the heartbroken—I was supposedly the key to saving their world?

"What did Grace mean?" I ask, the fiery red-haired woman's earlier statements coming back into my mind. "About the prophecy, about saving everyone?"

Elara sighs. "Grace… she's the pack seer. She has visions—glimpses of the future. The prophecy is… well, it's not a happy one. It speaks of a great war, of unimaginable destruction. You and Thorne…" she trails off, her voice heavy with apprehension. "You are destined to be at the heart of it all."

My mind reels in disbelief and dawning fear. This was all too much. Prophecies, fated mates, saving the world—it sounded like something out of a fantasy, not my reality.

"But… I don't understand," I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why me? I'm just a girl from a small village. I don't know anything about fighting or saving the world."

Elara reaches out, taking my hand in hers. Her touch is warm and reassuring.

"But why reject me then?" I ask.

Elara's lips press into a thin line. "He… he was worried," she says hesitantly. "Worried that mating with someone who wasn't his true mate would weaken him, make him vulnerable to this darkness."

Her explanation feels hollow.

Part of me wants to believe it, to see some shred of decency in Thorne's actions. But the memory of his cold rejection, the way he tossed me aside like yesterday's news, still burns brightly in my mind.

"And now?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "Now that the marks are there, proving I'm his mate, what happens?"

Elara's gaze softens. "Now, my dear—you have a decision to make."

My mind races.

Do I believe Thorne's explanation?

Can I ever forgive him for the pain he caused me? More importantly, am I ready to become entangled in a world of prophesies, darkness, and fated mates?

Looking at Elara's kind eyes, I realize the answer isn't as simple as yes or no.

I need time to process everything, to understand the depth of Thorne's actions and the truth behind his rejection.

"I… I need some time to think," I stammer.

Wait! Is that what I need?

No… no. Actually, what I need is closure, and I know exactly who to get it from.

It isn't enough to understand Thorne's actions; I need to hear them from him, to see the remorse in his eyes, to feel a semblance of apology for the gaping wound he'd left in my heart.

I know exactly who I need to find.

"Thank you, Elara," I said, offering a grateful smile. "For everything."

Pushing myself off the bed, I ignored the protest from my body. Every ache and pain is consumed by the storm raging within me.

With a newfound purpose, I march towards the door, throwing it open before Elara can react.

"Elowen, wait!" Elara calls out, concerned. "Where are you going?"

"To find answers."

From the right person.