Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby novel Chapter 310

Chapter 310: The Enchanting Valley

Countless questions crowded Eleanor’s mind, none of which she could answer. Her entire life seemed to unravel before her, its foundations turning to smoke. After her mother’s death, William Whitmore had falsely claimed to be her father to seize her mother’s wealth, and she had become Eleanor Whitmore.

As a Whitmore, her early years had not been entirely bleak. Isabella Thomas, Aunt Bella... whom her mother had appointed to care for her before she died, had done everything she could to raise a motherless child with love. Jennifer Whitmore had been a sweet, attentive older sister when they were small. Even later, when Jennifer schemed behind her back to make her life miserable at school, she still maintained the façade of a doting sibling. Her stepmother, Jeanne Baker, had always acted like a devoted mother, at times seeming to prioritise Eleanor even above her own daughter. William himself, though distant and often irritable, had never laid a hand on her.

Had she not overheard that dreadful secret conversation, she might have died believing them all to be her adoring family. After learning that her entire life had been built upon lies and betrayal, she had fled her home, alone and terrified.

Then, through a stroke of luck and an unexpected reunion with her university friend Ethan, she was introduced to the supernatural world... and became a werewolf. She became Eleanor Elizabeth Raynor, awakening the Raynor Clan’s ancestral bloodline without ever having been born into it.

From the lowest point of her life... escaping a family intent on murdering her, she had risen again as a Raynor. And this time, she had her daughter, Freya, whose biological father remained a mystery.

At the beginning, her human emotions had intensified manifold after becoming a werewolf... an alpha at that. The hatred she felt toward those who had made her life miserable became monumental. She wanted to destroy them in the most excruciating ways imaginable. But after awakening her Elizabeth bloodline and receiving the ancestral heritage, an entirely new world opened before her. Elizabeth Raynor’s memories and wisdom guided her onto a broader path. Her earlier schemes of petty revenge seemed childish in the grand scheme of things. The lives of a few insignificant mortals no longer carried any weight.

After Freya was born, Eleanor found a new purpose. She decided to remove every possible wretch who might be her daughter’s biological father, ensuring Freya would never face him... not even by accident.

When she discovered Tom Raynor’s abandoned Heimdall Project, left incomplete due to his overambitious vision and the lack of available technology at the time, her resolve solidified. The technologies Tom could not obtain in his era were readily accessible by the time she unearthed his documents. Eleanor even had the luxury to perfect the project with the software and hardware at her disposal. Tom had been a true visionary... when programming languages were barely emerging, he had already imagined a system capable of overseeing the world from a bird’s-eye view. His unfinished designs paved the way for Eleanor to establish Heimdall Technologies and elevate it to unprecedented heights in the modern technological age. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

With the support, love, and respect she received from the Raynor Clan, Eleanor had never once imagined she would one day bear another surname. Even after discovering her mother’s true identity, it had never crossed her mind to change her name from Raynor to Langford. But now, without her knowledge or consent, Yggdrasil had changed it for her.

Is this because of her Thunderbolt bloodline? She didn’t know. Yggdrasil might know the identity of her father... this was the only conclusion she could reasonably draw. She had long suspected as much. Every fragment of information she possessed pointed in that direction.

She vividly remembered what Scáthach had said after tasting her blood during their first meeting: "You bear the potent royal blood of the werewolves. The blood of Eryx Brontes Lychos, the first King of Werewolves, flows within you."

And later she said, "now that your Thunderbolt bloodline has awakened, their knock will soon thunder at your door."

Judging by the current circumstances, Scáthach’s words were on the verge of becoming reality. Now that Yggdrasil had confirmed her identity and even added Brontes Lychos to her name, Eleanor was almost certain her father belonged to the royal werewolf lineage.

"If only my mother were alive," Eleanor sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. Her life was becoming a labyrinth of unknowns unfolding before her very eyes.

Nora remained silent, offering her a pocket of peace. With no evidence to confirm or deny anything, she chose not to intrude on Eleanor’s thoughts.

She meant it as a reminder to be cautious... but it only worsened Eleanor’s anxiety.

It was almost noon when she stumbled into a valley. Here, hidden from the outside world, nature thrived against all odds. The ground spread out in a living tapestry of colour and quiet vitality, woven with delicate strands of green grass. Their vibrant blades rippled gently in the breeze, whispering secrets of endurance. Clusters of lily-like flowers stretched skyward, their slender stems lifting blooms as pale as morning mist. Wildflowers sprinkled the landscape with shifting hues, their petals shimmering as if brushed by sunlight. Among them, lantern-shaped blossoms swayed, their bell-like petals holding droplets of light that felt almost otherworldly.

Amid this flourishing sanctuary, patches of rounded, conical dark-green bushes gathered across the valley. Tiny white flowers clustered over them like scattered constellations, bright against the deep green. The air carried a sharp, invigorating fragrance... a scent that felt like the breath of the mountains themselves: pure, untamed, and timeless.

In the distance, a waterfall tumbled down the rugged cliffs, its silvery torrents catching sunlight and scattering rainbows into the air. The sound of rushing water mingled with the soft hum of life across the plateau, each note layering itself into the symphony of this enchanted place.

Large, palm-sized butterflies drifted above the blooms, their wings painted with the brilliance of sun, sky, and earth. They danced as though performing a sacred rite, their delicate motions a quiet celebration of life. Small birds with long, needle-like beaks wove through the valley, their soft chirping echoing gently across the surrounding peaks. Every flutter, every rustle, every whisper of wind felt like a single note in a heavenly symphony... an orchestration crafted by nature itself.

Eleanor momentarily forgot her mission. She stood rooted to the spot, entranced, watching the natural symphony unfold before her eyes. Butterflies danced above the blossoms, flowers swayed in the gentle breeze, and the waterfall’s distant murmur wove a serene melody through the air.

The spell shattered abruptly as a beast’s fierce cry echoed across the mountainside. Eleanor snapped her gaze towards the sound. High atop the cliff, a white wolf was locked in a brutal struggle with a white bear. Ice burst from their clashes, shards scattering in all directions. Some chunks even tumbled into the valley below, frosting a wide patch of the grass in glittering white.