Chapter 125 — The Crown and the Question
Ma’am Albright did not move.
She just stood there, staring at me as if I had suddenly turned into someone else.
“A crowned… white wolf?” she repeated slowly.
Her voice was not loud, but I could hear the tremor in it.
I nodded.
“Yes.”
She walked toward the chair near my window and sat down carefully, like her legs had suddenly grown weak.
“Elara,” she said, her eyes never leaving mine, “do you understand what you are saying?”
“I’m only telling you what I saw.”
Her fingers tightened around the arm of the chair.
“Why,” she asked carefully, “why do you think you are the white wolf being crowned?”
I hesitated.
That was the part I wasn’t even sure about myself.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I’m just… not sure.”
Ma’am Albright’s breathing deepened.
“Could it have been someone else?” she asked.
“I thought about that,” I said quickly. “At first, I even thought it might be my sister.”
Her eyes softened at the mention of my sister.
“You told me she was special,” I continued quietly. “So I wondered if maybe the dream was about her.”
I swallowed.
“But she’s dead. And… There's no way a dead person is going to be crowned. Right?”
The room went silent.
Mama Albright didn’t answer immediately.
“So I thought,” I continued, “maybe it’s me even though I hate to admit it.”
I walked closer to her.
“When I was in the dream, it wasn’t like I was watching from far away. I was the wolf. I could feel the wind in my fur. I could hear the crowd. I could feel the weight of the crown.”
My chest tightened just remembering it.
“It felt like me.”
She leaned back slowly, studying me.
“Elara,” she said gently, “do you often have dreams like this?”
I let out a small breath. “Yes.”
“How often?”
“More than I should,” I said with a small, nervous smile. “I have different weird dreams. Some of them don’t make sense. Some of them feel important. But I never fully understand what they mean.”
Her eyes sharpened. “What kind of dreams?”
“Sometimes I see places I’ve never been before,” I explained. “Sometimes I see people I don’t know. Sometimes I see things before they happen.”
She froze. “Before they happen?”
I nodded slowly. “Not clearly. Just… flashes.”
Ma’am Albright stood up suddenly. She shook her head slowly.
“My suspicions were true about you being a seer, Elara.”
I felt dizzy.
“I’m a healer,” I said softly. “That’s all I’ve ever known.”
“No,” she said firmly. “You are more than that.”
I stared at her. Her eyes searched my face.
“Where did your seeing ability come from?”
I hesitated.
Then I answered quietly.
“My father.”
She blinked. “Your father?”
I nodded.
“On the night he died,” I said, my voice growing softer, “he held my hand and passed it down to me”
Silence filled the room again.
“So you are a healer,” Mama Albright murmured, thinking aloud. “And a seer.”
I remained quiet.
She stepped back slowly.
“Elara,” she said, her tone turning grave, “do you understand what this means?”
I shook my head slightly.
“It means,” she said carefully, “that the moon goddess has chosen you.”
My heart pounded.
“For what?”
“For something bigger than us.”
She walked toward the window and looked outside.
“Plain white wolves,” she said slowly, “do not appear without reason.”
I waited.
“They usually emerge during the era of tribulation.”
My stomach dropped.
“Tribulation?” I whispered.
“Yes. Trouble, chaos, war.”
The word war felt like ice down my spine.
“They are sent by the goddess,” she continued, “to fight the evil that comes to destabilize the pack and the entire society.”
I felt my legs weaken.
“You think… there’s something coming?”
She turned to face me.
“I don’t think,” she said quietly. “I know.”
Her voice was steady. “Your dream confirms it.”
I wrapped my arms around myself.
“But why me?” I asked. “Why would the goddess choose me?”
Mama Albright’s expression softened.
“Because you are stronger than you realize.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t feel strong.”
“You survived things that would have broken others,” she said firmly. “You carry pain, but you still choose kindness. You have power, but you do not abuse it. That is why.”
I looked down.
“This is serious,” she continued. “Very serious.”
I nodded slowly.
“Have you told Edward?” she asked.
“No,” I admitted. “I haven’t.”
Her brows furrowed.
“You need to.”
“I will,” I said quickly. “I promise.”
She stepped closer and held my hands.
“We must prepare,” she said. “If war is coming, if chaos is near, we cannot be blind.”
I swallowed. “I’ll talk to him tonight.”
She nodded. “And I will speak to him as well.”
We stood there for a long moment, both lost in thought.
I didn’t know whether to feel scared or honored. Maybe both.
Damien
At the same time, miles away from the mansion, Damien sat in the back of a black SUV.
The ride was long and silent. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead.
He had not told anyone where he was going. The warehouse came into view. It was large, cold, and heavily guarded.
The place where they kept the gifted slaves. The ones with rare abilities. The ones forced to breed.
Damien stepped out of the car. The air smelled like rust and dust. One of the guards approached him immediately.
“Damien.”
“I’m here for someone,” Damien said without wasting time.
“Name?”
“Felix Landon.”
The guard nodded slowly.
“Alright, let’s go.”
They walked inside.
The sound of chains and distant voices echoed through the dark halls.
Damien’s expression remained cold.
“Which cell?” he asked.
“Third row. End of the hall.”
They stopped in front of a metal door.
Inside, a man sat on the floor, leaning against the wall.
He looked tired. Weak. But his eyes were sharp. Damien stepped closer to the bars.
“Open it,” he ordered.
The guard unlocked the cell door. Damien stepped inside. The man slowly lifted his head. Their eyes met.
There was something familiar about him. Damien crouched down slightly so they were at eye level.
“Felix Landon,” he said calmly. The man didn’t respond. Damien’s gaze hardened.
“I’m going to ask you one question.”
Felix’s jaw tightened.
“Who is Elara to you?”
The room went completely silent.