CHAPTER 61: KEEP THE SECRET TO OURSELF

Eleanor’s POV

The pain was a white-hot spike driving into my brain, and the world dissolved into nothing.

I don’t know how long I was out. The first thing I was aware of was the sound of hushed, urgent voices.

"...her lineage is definitely connected to the Shadow Cult. This is very, very bad." That was Mira.

Roxy’s voice was a low, grim rumble. "It means we can’t let her find her family. If the Vexxon brothers, or anyone with half a brain, finds out she’s somehow blood related to the shadow cult, she’s screwed."

I shifted, a soft groan escaping my lips. The movement immediately caught Mira’s attention.

"Ellie? You’re awake!" Her face swam into view above me, etched with worry. I realized my head was resting in her lap. "What happened? We called for you, and you didn’t answer. We found you unconscious over here."

I pushed myself up, my head throbbing dully. "A headache... it was so sudden. So painful." My gaze was drawn back across the rope barrier, to the dark, twisted crown sitting ominously under its glass case. "Mira... do you know what that crown is?"

Both Mira and Roxy followed my pointing finger. Mira’s eyes widened in recognition. "I’ve seen drawings of it before..."

"Hold that thought," Roxy cut in. She strode off, her boots echoing in the quiet library. She returned a few minutes later with ancient-looking book in her hands. I managed to sit up properly, my body feeling weak.

Beatrice? I thought, reaching for my wolf. Did you see that? Those memories? Do you understand what they were?

I saw them. she replied, her confusion mirroring my own. They are not ours.

I realized with a jolt that I’d had dreams—vivid, terrifying dreams—of the same war.

"Ahah!" Roxy exclaimed, stopping at a page. She turned the book around to face us.

My blood ran cold. There, sketched in intricate detail, was the exact same crown.

Roxy tapped the illustration with her finger. "It’s called the Shacklegreave. The crown worn by the enchantress. The one Aria defeated."

Mira’s brow furrowed in concern. "How is it just displayed here? Shouldn’t something like that be locked away?"

"The book says it’s supposed to be inert," Roxy explained, scanning the text. "Useless without its owner, who is long dead. No stored powers mentioned. That’s probably why it’s in a museum and not a maximum-security vault."

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the crown. It felt... familiar. Not in a comforting way, but in a deep, unsettling way, like a forgotten nightmare.

"You said you found my lineage," I whispered, my voice trembling. "What did you mean?"

Mira and Roxy exchanged a heavy look. "Ellie," Mira began gently, "you remember the story the brothers told us? About the Shadow Cult war?"

I nodded, a cold dread beginning to pool in my stomach.

"The power you displayed at the Serpent’s Kiss... the way you commanded the rogues... that’s a power attributed to the Shadow Pack. To their leaders."

The world seemed to tilt. No. It couldn’t be. So I wasn’t just a werewolf. I was from the enemy’s lineage. The very people we were now training to fight against.

Roxy, ever blunt, cut through my spiraling panic. "It actually makes sense. Explains why you were with the Moores. Your real family probably stashed you with a random human family to keep you hidden."

"But that doesn’t sound like something a supposedly evil cult would do," I argued, clinging to logic.

Mira squeezed my hand. "We’re not saying you’re evil, Ellie. Look at you. You’ve lived as a human your whole life. Your heart, your personality... it’s not the heart of a monster. The blood in your veins doesn’t change who you are."

"Don’t panic," Roxy added, her tone firm. "We didn’t say you are Shadow Cult. We’re saying you’re blood-related. A distant cousin, maybe. But that’s enough. If anyone finds out, they’ll see you as the enemy. So this stays between us. No one else can ever know."

A small measure of calm settled over me. They were right. This was a secret the three of us would now share.

"The only problem we have now," Roxy said, crossing her arms, "is if you decide to go all white-eyed and scary again in front of an audience. And trust me, it won’t just be us watching next time. So no matter what, you cannot use that power again till we figure out what next to do."

Mira nodded in firm agreement. "That means you can’t give complete control to your wolf anymore, Ellie. You have to be the one in charge."

I was just beginning to like them, Beatrice whined, her disappointment a sulky feeling in my chest.

I ignored her. "I wasn’t planning on it anyway," I said, a shiver running down my spine at the memory. "My wolf is a menace."

"Good," Roxy stated. "So, what now?"

Mira stood up. "We’re spending the day here, remember? And Eleanor still haven’t actually learned anything useful about her lineage." She held out her hand and helped me up.

She led us back to the spiraling bookshelves, scaled a ladder with a focused expression, and returned with a book. It didn’t look ancient, but the moment she placed it in my hands, a chill of age and power seeped from its cover.

"This book details the war from the heroes’ perspectives," Mira explained as we found a quiet table and sat down.

I opened the cover. The first page held a stunning, full-page illustration of a woman. Her hair and eyes were a luminous silver-purple, and an immense, palpable aura seemed to radiate from the page itself.

I turned the page, one by one, seeing other faces—four powerfully built men and three more women, all with determined expressions.

I started to read. The silver-haired woman was the legendary Aria. The story told of how her mother, who was the former Luna of the shadow pack, seeing the darkness in the Shadow Cult, had stolen Aria away as a child to prevent her from being used as a weapon of mass destruction.

But through manipulation and deceit, the Cult eventually found and corrupted her, twisting her immense power to their will.

But then, her fated mates—four of them, which seemed insane—and her loyal friends fought to get her back.

The text described how her wolf, wild and enraged, was gradually, gracefully tamed by the combined strength and love of her mates’ own wolves.

When Aria finally returned to her senses, the tide of the war turned. With her power now fighting for the light, they were able to end the conflict and defeat the Shadow Cult for a generation.

I kept reading, my fingers tracing the words as the story grew darker. But then, a new, chilling passage detailed a secret that was exposed the very day she fell.

The enchantress had prepared for her return.

She had hidden her daughters away, to continue her legacy in secret. Her plan was that when the time was ripe, her loyal minions would find a way to resurrect her, using her bloodline as an anchor.

And then, a footnote, written in Aria’s own hand as a later addition, made my heart stop.

’I do not know how much truth lies in this claim. Since I know that her daughters don’t possess her powers. I know that because they were my step sisters.’

The book nearly slipped from my numb fingers.

Wait. So that meant... the evil enchantress, was Aria’s step-mother?

The hero and the ultimate villain were connected by family.