Chapter 161 A New Guardian

Chapter 161 The Guardian's Son
Gabriel POV

The effect was immediate. My body went rigid, hands gripping the edge of the table as waves of pain crashed through me. I felt Lyra reach out to steady me, her touch a distant comfort against the fire spreading through my veins.

"Gabriel," she whispered, her voice laced with alarm.

I could barely respond, my breathing coming in harsh gasps, each exhale carrying a soft groan I couldn't suppress. Then came the most terrifying sensation—the sudden severing of our mate bond. One moment Lyra's presence was there in my mind, warm and constant; the next, nothing but cold emptiness. The abrupt disconnection left me disoriented, as though part of my consciousness had been violently torn away.

But worse was yet to come. I reached inward, calling to my wolf as I had thousands of times before. Nothing answered. The constant presence that had defined me, my strength in battle, my instinct in danger, my guide in leadership... All gone.

What left behind was a hollowness that threatened to consume me. Was this how humans felt? This... incompleteness? This vulnerability? For the first time in my life, I understood true fear: not the calculated assessment of risk I was accustomed to, but raw, primal terror at being utterly defenseless.

My thoughts raced frantically. What if this wasn't temporary? What if I could never shift again? My position as Alpha, my ability to protect my pack, my very identity... all hung in the balance. Without my wolf, what was I? Just a man, ordinary and weak. The weight of responsibility I carried for my entire pack suddenly seemed impossible to bear without my other half. And Lyra... how could I protect her now? The thought of failing her sent a wave of desperation through me that was harder to control than the physical pain still coursing through my veins.

"It's gone," I whispered, my voice raw with disbelief. "My wolf... I can't feel him."

Despite the vulnerability coursing through me, I forced myself to straighten my spine and square my shoulders. I would not display weakness, not here, not now. I maintained a gaze that was piercing and shrewd, even as my mind grappled with the void within.

The scarred woman observed my struggle with clinical detachment. "Your mate is brave," she remarked to Lyra, "willing to take double the risk to protect you."

I hardened my expression into a mask of cold determination. "We do as you say," I stated flatly. "Now it's our turn to ask questions."

The woman inclined her head slightly. "Please, proceed."

I steadied my voice, refusing to let it betray the panic still coursing through me. "Let's start with your background. How do you know so much about white wolves?"

The scarred woman settled into a chair, gesturing for us to do the same. "My name is Eleanor. I am a descendant of the guardians tasked with protecting the white wolves of the original White Moon tribe..."

As she spoke, I felt a jolt of recognition. Her account matched what Ethan had told us almost word for word, but with even more specific details about the white wolves' history and abilities. This couldn't be coincidence.

"The guardians were chosen for their loyalty and discretion," Eleanor continued. "For generations, we've preserved the knowledge of white wolves while protecting them from those who would exploit their power."

I furrowed my brow, fighting through the fog of discomfort still clouding my thoughts. If Ethan knew these things, it could be explained if Kade had told him—but how would Kade have this information? And how would this woman know the exact same details?

Eleanor's scarred face twisted into something resembling a smile. "As is tradition, when I came to the age of a guardian, I was told these sacred knowledge, and I shared them with my mate and my son. They both swore to support my mission." Her expression darkened. "Years ago, we followed a lead about a potential white wolf sighting. We were ambushed by enemies who sought to use white wolf power to dominate werewolf society."

She paused, her fingers tracing one of the deeper scars on her face. "My mate died defending us. My son and I were captured."

I felt the room grow colder as Eleanor continued, her voice taking on a hollow quality that spoke of deep trauma.

"For weeks, they tortured me, demanding information about white wolves. I refused to break." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Then, during what I thought would be my final interrogation, my son walked in."

I tensed, sensing the terrible revelation that was coming.

"Only then did I realize the terrible truth—my own son had been seduced by the power the white wolves represented. He had orchestrated the entire ambush." Eleanor's hands trembled slightly. "He eventually released me, claiming he'd already extracted enough information. I've been taking this wolfsbane mixture ever since to prevent him from tracking me while I continue my work."

She gestured to her weathered appearance. "Prolonged use accelerates physical aging. I appear elderly, but I'm not yet fifty."

"Fifty?" I couldn't hide my shock. "You look—"

"Much older, yes," Eleanor cut in sharply. "Such is the price of protection."

Beside me, Lyra leaned forward, her face intense with curiosity. "What makes white wolves so special? Why does everyone want to find them?"

Eleanor's gaze locked with hers. "White wolves are the Moon Goddess's direct representatives on earth. A fully awakened white wolf possesses power that could destroy our world if misused."

She spread her hands. "Some packs obsessively seek this power to dominate others. Some fanatically hunt white wolves to eliminate what they see as a threat. My guardians stand between these extremes: protecting the white wolves while ensuring their power is never abused, preserving the bloodline without allowing it to fall into the wrong hands."

I felt some strength returning to my limbs, though the emptiness where my wolf should be remained a gaping wound. "And we're supposed to just believe you?" I challenged, my voice steadier now.

Eleanor's expression remained impassive. "You don't need to believe me, Alpha. But she does." She nodded toward Lyra. "Several high-ranking Council members suspect she carries white wolf blood. They'll use force to confirm their suspicions if necessary."

My eyes narrowed dangerously. "How do you know that?"

Eleanor's face grew solemn, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "Because my son is working with them. And I suppose you've already met him."

Lyra and I exchanged alarmed glances. My mind raced through all the wolves we'd encountered recently, trying to identify who might be Eleanor's son.

"Who are you talking about?" I demanded.

Eleanor's scarred face showed the first real emotion I'd seen: a mixture of sorrow and resignation.

"Kade," she answered softly. "Kade is my son."