The Golden Lycans (Ella) novel Chapter 39

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Orion’s Ommitance

**Ella***

I had just experienced the most restful sleep I’d had in a while. There had been no midnight mental jaunt to the vibrant world under the willow tree, and I haven’t woken up on the roofspace outside

once again.

I open my eyes and I instantly sit up, wondering if everything that happened last night, really did ha ppen. I feel around my neck, noting the clear absence of my necklace. I immediately feel bare

without it, but I also resent what it had kept from me all this time.

I pause, taking stock of things as they are now.

I feel different, but I am not sure how or why, just yet. I slide out of bed and go to stand in front of

my mirror.

I look different.

I am taller, and my hair is now even longer, and now a much lighter blonde than before, almost bordering on a silvery white. My skin looks heaps healthier, having taken on a warmer, more olive tone, and the dark circles I’d recently developed under my eyes had faded. I could’ve been wrong, but my eyes look larger, too.

I turn to the side, still looking directly into the mirror, spotting the ‘scars’ next to the straps of my camisole top that the masseuse had noticed only yesterday. The masseuse had said they were barely noticeable, but that had certainly changed last night. They are an angry red, evidently from where wings had burst out of my shoulder blades just a short time ago. Had they always been there, or did the ‘scars’ arrive on my seventeenth birthday?

From wings.

I had….wings.

I turn back to face the mirror, looking at myself all over, once again. If I’d felt unrecognisable.

yesterday, that feeling was nothing compared today.

Given how much the necklace had burned me last night, I’m not surprised to still see a slight mark still evident on my skin. The irony is not lost on me, having had the necklace chained around my neck for as long as I could remember. Now I had the knowledge that it had quite literally chained a vital part of me up all this time. So many questions are now flowing through my mind, and despite finally having the answer to the question I’d asked myself daily for the past two months, I felt more

lost than ever before.

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“Some night huh?” Freya says quietly from her bed behind me. I turn around to look at her, uncertainty etched across my face as I nod fervently, a wave of various emotions hitting me all at ance, as she looks back at me with sympathy. I feel tears sting my eyes, and I hastily turn away from her, dabbing at my eyes and taking slow, deep breaths. I feel very overwhelmed right. Everything is different, and I was different. I needed something to ground me. As if reading my mind, I feel Freya come up behind me, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug.

“Just remember Ella, you are still you, just like I was still me, wings or no wings. You’re my friend, nothing has changed in that regard, and I am here for you,” she says to me, simply, just like she had when I’d discovered her real identity. I place my hands on top of hers, immensely thankful for her friendship. Through our touch, I wonder, for a second, if I could sense her presence a little stronger…or a sense of…something.

I am not sure, or even what I thought I might be picking up from her. I feel lost and so clueless, and I have absolutely no idea where to go from here.

How would I begin to figure myself out?

Who could help me?

***Freya***

After I’d managed to get Ella down to breakfast, she decided to go out for a run. I know she needs to clear her head, and running was something she often did when things were stressing her out. This gave me the perfect opportunity to speak to my grandfather again.

I had more questions, because I just knew he hadn’t been entirely honest last night. I’d seen it in his face when Ella had asked a question, and he’d stared awkwardly at the ceiling for a moment. There was clearly more to Cassian’s comment than he was letting on. There was something important that I just knew he had kept back from her and I wanted to know why that was, as well as what it

was.

I knock on the door and wait for a reply, wondering if he’s even in, but sure enough, he answers.

“Come in, my sweet girl,” he says from within.

I open the door and immediately sit down on one of the chairs, leaning forward on the desk and looking at my grandfather keenly.

“I sense that I already know what you are here to ask,” he says gently. I smile, he had always been one step ahead, all my life.

“What really happened to the Fae?”

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He nods, confirming his suspicion, leaning forwards and looking at me with a glint in his eye.

“Freya, do you know why our pack is called the Golden Lycans?” he asks.

“Because the myth says the founding alpha of our pack had golden fur? A myth, because wolves aren’t ever golden?” I shrug.

“You are somewhat correct. Lycans don’t come in a golden colour, that is true. On the odd occasion there of course have been white Lycans, like dear Annabelle, but generally speaking we are shades of browns and blacks. But to be golden was unique to this one single alpha, and then to his subsequent lineage for around five generations. It wasn’t blonde or a tan colour, it was said to be truly luminescent, a pure shining gold. Not really fur at all, in the grand scheme of things; more like an armour. Impenetrable. But, it is no myth.”

“Okay, so why was he different, why was he golden?” I ask. He looks at me for a moment with a smile and raises his grey eyebrows.

“He was golden because the moon goddess gifted him and only him, a bond with a faerie mate. The only time it has ever happened, according to records. Their bond was revered by alphas across the country, across the world, even. Together, they were formidable for what the bond was able to do for them both,” he begins, “the mate bond, and the alpha’s love for the faerie, multiplied her magic tenfold, more than a normal love. What I didn’t tell Ella last night, is that fae magic linked intrinsically to love. To love and be loved would have different effects on each individual faerie. The deeper the connection and love, the greater their power. A faerie without love was a faerie without light or magic. A faerie with a divine mate bond, though, with a higher love, that was another level entirely.”

He takes a sip of water before continuing.

“That particular Faerie was the celestial faerie that I spoke of, capable of drawing natural energy from the sun and the moon. The latter of which, she could gift to the alpha, strengthening him vastly beyond what was normal for even the strongest of Lycans. From the moment their bond was fully complete, he was golden until his dying day, carrying her light within him. Their children were all male wolves, the faerie’s natural connection to the sun being the source of their golden fur. The golden fur was impervious to fire and other elemental magic and acted like physical armour. Their lineage was dangerous and couldn’t be physically hurt, so therefore incredibly effective. That is how our pack became the strongest around, for such a long time.”

This story sounded crazy, and not the story I grew up hearing at all.

“Why isn’t this something we are all taught about in our pack? That wasn’t what I was taught,” I ask. “Our alphas have been too proud, not wanting to admit that their pack began without a pure Lycan

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pairing. It is also a dark stain in our history, for it is that bond that brought about the eventual fall of

the Fae,” he says solemnly.

“What? How did our pack cause their extinction? Based on what you just said, that faerie must’ve

been pretty damn powerful,” I ask.

“Other alphas sought a union like theirs for themselves, but alas, even with a real love, there was no real bond, not a bond gifted by the moon goddess herself. Some Fae were killed in a violent attempt to mate with them, or simply because they couldn’t give the desperate alphas what they desired. Many others were killed by the she-wolves who were bonded to the alphas, desperate to get rid of the Faerie they found to be interfering with their mate bond and their destined right to become Luna. Power corrupts, Freya.”

I think about this new information for a moment.

“So…Cassian somehow did know this about her, didn’t he? His wolf spirit did know what she was!” said in realisation. He nods gravely at my comment.

“Cassian’s wolf spirit is indeed as old as he brags him to be. Old enough to remember the Fae,” grandfather replies.

“Interesting. He doesn’t act the way Aus does, when their spirits are of similar ages,” I comment.

“Our spirits can’t change us that much, my dear,” he jokes.

“But…Atlas must know too, he must remember, surely, I mean he’s even older,” I ask.

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