CHAPTER 89: THE SHADOWMERE ROYAL FAMILY

Eleanor’s POV

The elder woman, Eldress Brown, had been speaking for what felt like an hour. She was reciting basic supernatural history that I’d already read in a dozen online forums. Roxy, standing beside me, was practically vibrating with boredom, her eyes glazed over.

"...and so, the alignment of the lunar phases is crucial for understanding a werewolf’s control," Eldress Brown droned on.

I nodded politely, but my mind was elsewhere. There was one question burning on my tongue, but I couldn’t find the right moment to ask without sounding suspicious.

Just then, Mira approached with the elder she’d been speaking to, a man with kind eyes and grey hair.

"Eldress Brown," the man said with a warm, respectful nod. "I hope you don’t mind if I join your discussion. I find this group particularly engaging."

"Elder Harold," she replied, though her smile seemed a bit tight. "The more, the merrier."

Roxy, however, did not look pleased.

Mira smoothly stepped into the conversation. "Elder Harold, Eldress Brown, I was just recalling something. My friends and I were at the library recently, and we saw an illustration of the crown the Queen of the Shadow Cult used to wear. Wouldn’t it be beneficial for us to know more about these people? If we understand their symbols and history, we might be better equipped to spot their influence and find a way to break the enchantment on the Serpent’s Kiss."

Elder Harold nodded thoughtfully. "A wise suggestion. Knowledge is our greatest weapon."

Eldress Brown, however, stiffened. "That is a very sensitive topic. It’s not something we typically share with... outsiders."

"But they are not outsiders in this fight," Harold countered gently, his gaze sweeping over us. "They are on the front lines, facing the creatures these enchantments unleash. Giving them the knowledge to recognize a potential cult member could be vital."

Eldress Brown pondered this, her lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, she let out a short sigh. "Alright. But you must swear," she said, her eyes locking with each of ours in turn, "that this information does not leave this room."

"We swear," Mira and I said in unison. Roxy gave a curt, decisive nod.

Eldress Brown gave a curt nod and signaled for us to follow her. We fell into step behind her, moving away from the room and into a quieter, more secluded hallway.

"You are aware of the Great War, of course," Eldress Brown began, her voice echoing softly. "But to be precise, it was 7 decades ago. The group you call the Shadow Cult was originally the Shadow Pack. They were once a pack like any other, until the Evil Queen and her cohorts seized power and twisted it into something... dark."

The air grew cooler, and we reached another hallway where the walls were lined with portraits of severe-looking individuals, their eyes seeming to follow us as we passed.

We stopped in the center of the hallway. Elder Harold gestured to the portraits surrounding us. "This is our Hall of Remembrance. It holds the faces of our history, both heroes and villains." He paused, his gaze lingering on me for a moment too long.

"The Shadow Cult is split into three distinct tiers. First, the Royal Family. The Queen’s family. They are the heart of the cult, pure in their cruel, primal nature. Their most distinguishing feature," he said, his eyes locking directly with mine, "is their unique, silver-white hair."

My breath hitched. A cold dread trickled down my spine.

He’s talking about me. Just because I have the hair doesn’t mean... but then the pieces began to click into place with terrifying finality.

The primal, murderous intent Beatrice was always pushing on me. The way I’d almost lost control, choking everyone around me. I have almost lost control more than once.

That sinking realization settled in my stomach like a stone. My worst fear had come true. I wasn’t just from a shady family. I was from the royal family. The source of the evil we were fighting.

"The other tiers," Elder Harold continued, his voice pulling me from my spiraling thoughts, "are the Royal Cohorts—the Thorne family.

They are bound to the royals, cohabiting with them to strengthen the bloodline and ensure it does not die out. And finally, the minions. The vast network of followers who worship the royal family and do their bidding."

He walked a few paces and stopped before another portrait. My feet felt rooted to the spot.

"The royal family’s name is Shadowmere," he said, his tone grave. "They live in secrecy, biding their time, waiting for the day they can reveal themselves and finish what their Evil Queen started. While the cohorts are the Thorne family."

He gestured to the portrait. "This is her. The one who began it all. Queen Eleanor."

I looked up, and my world shattered.

I knew that face. I had seen her in my dreams—vivid, terrifying dreams of war and chaos, of a woman with my hair and my eyes screaming vows of vengeance, swearing she would return.

Roxy let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Well, that’s a hell of a coincidence. You share a name with the devil herself. An evil queen and our little goody-two-shoes Eleanor. That’s rich."

I couldn’t even form a response. The truth was a physical weight crushing my chest. I knew my family now. And the mysterious, silver-haired man from the garage... he had to be a relative. The thought made me sick.

**

Less than an hour later, we were leaving the building. The farewells were a blur. In the car, I was silent, my mind a whirlwind of dread and horror. Mira, sitting beside me, gently took my hand.

"Don’t," she said softly, her voice firm yet kind. "Don’t go down that path. No one here thinks you’re like her. Roxy and I... we know who you are. Your blood doesn’t define you."

"So what do I do now?" I asked, my voice hollow. "I know where I come from. What’s the next step? I obviously can’t go to them. They’re literal evil. They’d want to turn me into one of them." I shook my head, the reality of it suffocating. "So the idea of my family training me to control this... this bloodlust... is out of the question." The silence in the car was heavy after my question.

Mira and Roxy had no answer. The rest of the trip to the Serpent’s Kiss passed in a thick, hopeless quiet.

***

Later, after a long afternoon of training with the newly modified vehicle weapons—a blur of loud noises and sharp instructions—I returned to the Vexxon estate. The grand house felt more like a gilded cage than ever. The weight of my lineage was a cloak I couldn’t take off.

I walked inside, my shoulders slumped. Sir Alfred was there, as always.

"Good evening, Miss Eleanor," he said, his kind smile a small, warm light in the gloom. "How was your day?"

"It was... more unraveling than I expected," I admitted, my voice tired.

"And how is your pregnant friend doing?" Alfred asked gently.

I blinked. "What?"

"Sir Kayden mentioned you accompanied a friend to a prenatal appointment at the hospital today."

Oh. Right. The lie I’d used with Kayden. "Right. The appointment... it went well," I said, the falsehood feeling bitter on my tongue. I caught a delicious aroma from the dining room. "Something smells amazing."

"We’ve just prepared dinner. I thought you might be hungry." His thoughtfulness, as always, was a balm.

As we walked to the dining room, I couldn’t hold back the question any longer. "Sir Alfred... i ask again, why are you always so kind to me? You barely know me."

He held my chair out for me. "I like to think I am an excellent judge of inner character. And I know you are not the manipulative liar some would claim you to be."

A cold shiver ran down my spine. If only he knew the blood that ran in my veins. "You shouldn’t be so quick to judge," I said quietly, picking up my fork. "People can be... more than they seem."

"I am aware," he replied simply, taking the seat opposite me. He watched as I began to eat. "Your face still looks sour, if you don’t mind me saying. Is something else the matter?"

I pushed the food around my plate. "I’m just not fit for this life. This supernatural world. The more I learn, the less I feel I actually know. I just..." I sighed, the confession tumbling out. "I wish there was a way to... limit it all. To reduce these werewolf abilities."

Alfred nodded thoughtfully. "Such things do exist."

My fork clattered against the plate. I stared at him. "What did you say?"

"I said, such suppressants do exist. There are certain compounds, that can dampen a werewolf’s abilities significantly."

A fragile, desperate hope flared in my chest. So... there’s something? Something I could take that would stop my powers from... from lashing out when I get agitated?

"Where?" I asked, my voice a little too eager. "Where can I get it?"

Alfred’s kind eyes held mine, but they seemed to see right through me. "Why do you feel you need it, Miss Eleanor? What part of your nature do you wish to suppress so severely?"

The question stopped me cold. I couldn’t tell him the truth. So what should i say?