Thorne's Secret

Chapter 34: Thorne's Secret
Thorne's POV
I lunged forward despite the burning pain in my back, tackling Elara to the ground as her eyes flashed totally black. The sound coming from her mouth wasn't hers—it was older, deeper, filled with power I'd never felt before.
"Get out of her!" I growled, pinning her hands to the forest floor.
The Harbingers stopped their progress, watching in shock as Elara's body thrashed beneath me, her skin glowing with witch magic.
"Foolish wolf," she hissed in that strange voice. "I've waited centuries for this moment."
Sebastian moved to help me, but Lyra held him back. "Don't touch them!" she warned. "The witch queen's spirit could jump to any of us."
"Serena, please," Sebastian begged. "Don't hurt her. She's your daughter."
Elara's black eyes fixed on Sebastian, and her lips curled into a smile that made my blood run cold. "My daughter? Or my vessel? I created her for this reason."
I felt our link flickering like a candle in a storm. Elara was still in there somewhere, fighting. I had to reach her.
"Elara," I said, looking into those black eyes. "I know you can hear me. Fight her!"
For just a moment, the blackness in her eyes faded. "Thorne," she gasped, her real voice breaking through. "I can't—she's too strong—"
Then the witch queen took control again, throwing me off with a burst of magic so powerful it slammed me against a tree. Pain burst through my half-healed wound.
"You can't stop what's coming, wolf," she said, rising to her feet with unnatural ease. "Especially not you—a Davidsyn. Your family has opposed mine for generations."
The Harbingers were closing in again, but they seemed timid now, unsure whether to attack or bow before the witch queen possessing Elara's body.
"Ironic, isn't it?" the witch queen continued, her dark eyes locked on me. "That my daughter would bond with the grandson of the man who hunted me to my death."
Sebastian and Lyra both turned to stare at me.
"What is she talking about, Thorne?" Lyra wanted.
I pushed myself up, ignoring the pain. The secret I'd kept since meeting Elara was finally coming out in the worst possible way.
"My grandfather," I admitted, "was Jonathan Davidsyn. Leader of the Silver Fang pack."
"The witch hunters," Lyra whispered, fear spreading across her face.
Sebastian's eyes flashed red with anger. "The ones who killed Serena."
I nodded, shame burning inside me. "I wanted to tell you, Elara," I said, looking at her seized body. "So many times. But I was afraid you'd hate me."
The witch queen laughed, a cold sound from Elara's lips. "And now she knows the truth. The man she loves comes from the bloodline that destroyed her family."
"No!" I shouted, fighting to stand straight despite my wound. "That's not the whole truth. Tell her what you did to my family first!"
The witch queen's power faltered for a moment, giving Lyra time to draw a confined circle around Elara's body. It wouldn't hold long, but it gave us a chance to talk.
"What is he talking about?" Sebastian asked Lyra as she finished the circle.
Lyra looked older suddenly, the weight of old secrets obvious on her face. "The Silver Fang pack wasn't always hunters. They were guards once, allied with the witch queen."
"Until she betrayed them," I added, the story my grandfather had told me burning in my mind. "My grandfather's father—my great-grandfather—was promised to the witch queen's younger sister. They were in love."
"That's impossible," Sebastian said. "Witches and werewolves never—"
"It wasn't always that way," Lyra interrupted. "Before the great divide, before the three races separated, there were many mixed relationships."
"My great-grandfather and the witch's sister planned to marry," I continued. "They were going to have a child—a natural hybrid that would unite werewolves and witches."
Inside the circle, Elara's body went very still, the witch queen listening closely.
"But the witch queen—Serena—couldn't allow it," I said. "A natural hybrid would make her created children useless. So she killed her own sister and cursed the Silver Fang pack."
"That's a lie!" Elara's body screamed, the circle flashing as the witch queen's power surged. "I loved my sister! I would never hurt her!"
"Then why did you curse my family?" I asked. "Why does every Davidsyn man lose control during the full moon? Why do we all die young, in pain and madness? My grandpa watched his father tear himself apart during a full moon, unable to control his shift. All because of your curse!"
Sebastian looked between us, confusion clear on his face. "Serena wouldn't do that. She wanted peace between the species."
"People change," Lyra said quietly. "After you betrayed her, Sebastian, after she lost the Moonstone... she became harder, more willing to make cruel choices for what she believed was the greater good."
I stepped as close to the circle as I dared. "My grandfather hunted you because you destroyed his family. But I'm not him. I've spent my life trying to undo the damage our families did to each other."
"By finding her daughter," Sebastian realized. "That's why you were really investigating those killings. You knew they would lead to Elara."
I nodded. "The Obsidian Court sent me to find the witch queen's daughter, to catch her—or kill her if necessary. But when I found Elara, when I saw her... I couldn't do it."
"The bond," Lyra muttered. "It formed instantly, didn't it?"
"Yes," I admitted. "From the first moment I saw her. It was like my wolf recognized something in her, something that called to me."
"The werewolf blood in her veins," Sebastian said. "Your blood."
My head snapped up. "What?"
Lyra sighed. "The werewolf blood used in the ritual to make Elara and Orion... it came from the Silver Fang pack. From your family, Thorne."
I felt like the ground had disappeared beneath my feet. "So Elara... she carries my family's blood? We're related?"
"Not exactly," Lyra explained. "The ritual changed the blood, merged it with witch and vampire essence to make something new. You're not blood relatives—but you are linked in a way no one else could be."
Inside the circle, Elara's body suddenly convulsed. Her back arched as she fell to her knees.
"She's fighting her mother's spirit," Lyra said. "Elara's trying to regain control."
I wanted to rush to her, to help her fight, but the circle kept me back. All I could do was watch as she fought against an enemy inside her own mind.
"Elara!" I called. "You can do this! You're better than her!"
Her eyes flickered—black to normal, black to normal—as the two spirits fought for control.
"The circle's weakening," Sebastian warned as cracks formed in the magical barrier.
The Harbingers, who had been watching from the edge of the field, began to advance again.
"We need to get out of here," Lyra said quickly. "Before—"
A howl cut through the night—long, sad, and somehow familiar. My skin prickled as I recognized the sound.
"Silver Fangs," I whispered. "My pack is coming."
"How?" Sebastian asked. "How did they find us?"
I pulled up my sleeve, showing a small tattoo that glowed silver in the moonlight. "They've been tracking me all along. They knew I'd find her eventually."
"You've been leading them to her?" Lyra asked, betrayal heavy in her words.
"No!" I insisted. "I've been keeping them away! Sending false addresses, misleading them. But now..."
The howls grew closer. Many dogs, moving fast.
Inside the circle, Elara suddenly went still. When she looked up, her eyes were her own again.
"Thorne," she gasped. "She's gone... for now. But I saw everything in her memories. I know what really happened."
She stood, swaying slightly. The circle around her disintegrated as her power overwhelmed Lyra's magic.
"Your grandfather didn't kill my mother," she said. "And my mother didn't kill your great-grandfather's love."
"What?" I took a step toward her, confused. "Then who did?"
Elara's eyes filled with tears. "The same thing that's possessing Orion. The thing beyond the door. It's been influencing all of us for generations, turning us against each other."
The screams were right at the edge of the clearing now. Any moment, my pack would arrive—wolves who had been raised to hate witches, who would tear Elara apart without pause.
"We have to go," I said, grabbing for her hand. "Now."
But Elara shook her head. "No more running. No more secrets." She turned to face the direction of the howls. "It's time to end this cycle of hatred."
"Elara, they'll kill you," I begged.
She looked at me, her eyes shining with power. "Not if they learn the truth first." She held out her hand to me. "Show them who you really are, Thorne. Show them what we can be together."
As the first silver wolves broke through the trees, their teeth bared and eyes glowing with hate, I made my choice. I took Elara's hand.
The moment our skin touched, pain shot through my body—not the agony of my wound, but the familiar pain of shifting. Except this was different. As I fell to my knees, I realized what was happening.
For the first time in my life, I was shifting into my wolf form during a new moon—something no werewolf should be able to do.
And as the transformation completed, I raised my head to see my image in Elara's wide eyes. My hair wasn't silver like my pack's.
It was pure, shining gold.