The Golden Lycans (Ella) novel Chapter 50

Ella’s Epiphany

Ella’s Epiphany

*Ella***

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The atmosphere around the school had the usual electric energy that came around with every full

moon.

I had noticed that certain emotions would run higher than usual when it was the full moon. People would get angrier at each other over small things…and then there was the other end of the scale where couples passionately made out in the corridors. It was a little bizarre, but it was beginning to make sense to me. These Lycans were passionate in all areas of their lives at the best of times,

but the full moon really brought it out in them.

It was Friday, officially the end of term, and most of the school were going home tomorrow for

Christmas. I was sad to hear after breakfast that Freya was going back to the pack with Austin,

Ollie and Annabelle straight after her final period.

“I’m sorry, I know we had an evening of Christmas movies planned, but you’ve heard the way our

father is. He doesn’t want to waste any time he’s got shaping Aus into our next alpha. It’s ridiculous, I mean…it’s Christmas!” Freya had said, rolling her eyes.

So here I was, in the greenhouse an hour before dinner and before the remaining Lycans were due to shift, bringing more life back to the greenhouse instead of getting into the Christmas spirit. I didn’t have much else to do, with my friends leaving.

I was looking around at what Will and I had accomplished together over the last four weeks, in particular what I’d managed on my own only yesterday after he had left, when I hear some

footsteps.

“Did you do all this after I left yesterday?” Will says from behind me.

I turn and see him inspecting one of the twenty new roses I had conjured up on my own after he’d

left yesterday afternoon.

“Yeah. I was in a good mood when you left and it just…happened,” I admit quietly.

“Earth magic is just intoxicating, isn’t it? Having control over nature. Bringing beauty and life into being,” he says, stepping closer to me, his eyes strangely wide and keen.

“I’d be lying if I said no,” I reply shyly, knowing exactly what he meant.

“I still remember the first time I felt that rush of energy, the power of knowing I had the ability to change something…that amazing sense of purpose,” he states with vigor. He seems strangely

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energised today and I guess it is probably the full moon amplifying his mood. Except, he seems diff erent. I say nothing as he draws closer to me.

“You must’ve felt exhausted after all this,” he says, gesturing around at the new roses. I shrug and

shake my head. It came easily and quickly, even though I still hadn’t bounced back fully from my head injury.

“Not really, if anything I never feel more alive than after I’ve created something new. I felt…happy, and they just…came. It was easy and-” I reply, quickly stopping myself. It might have been easy for

me, but it hadn’t been for him; he didn’t need me rubbing that in.

I look up at him, about to apologize, but before I can, he gently takes my chin in his hand, tilting my face up to his. His eyes, wide and searching, hold mine with an intensity that roots me to the spot.

“Don’t you dare look ashamed for finding some ease in all this,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with warmth. A kind smile touches his lips. “At least I always knew where I came from, what I was. You deserve this. You deserve to have things finally go your way.”

The passion in his words wraps around me, pulling me closer. His striking purple eyes burn into mine, and I swear I can feel the heat of his gaze like a physical touch. My breath hitches as the air between us shifts into something new, something electric. My heart pounds as he stares at me in a way he never has before. It’s raw, consuming… and I realise, I don’t mind it.

I want it.

His hand remains on my chin, his grip gentle yet firm. I can feel his power thrumming beneath his skin, simmering just below the surface. My eyes flicker to his lips just as his gaze drops to mine. I part them instinctively, my breath shallow.

“Ella, forgive me,” he whispers, his voice laced with longing.

Before I can respond, he pulls me to him, his lips crashing onto mine in a kiss that is as desperate as it is deep. One hand cups my face, the other tightens around my waist, holding me against him. The full moon must be affecting me, too, because without hesitation, I grasp the front of his shirt, fisting the fabric as I pull him closer. He responds instantly, his lips parting, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that steals the very air from my lungs. His hands frame my face, fingers threading into my hair, deepening the kiss until dizzying and intoxicating…

Then suddenly…pain.

A sharp, searing pain blooms in my core, so sudden and fierce it rips the breath from me. Gasping, I wrench away, panting as the agony tightens its grip on my heart. My hand flies up toward Will in a silent plea.

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Something was wrong.

Something was very wrong.

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A deep agony twists inside me, like my very soul is rebelling against the kiss. It had been a great kiss. So why did it feel like my body was screaming in protest?

Will suddenly jerks back, eyes wide, his breath uneven.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice hoarse. He swallows hard, stepping away as if he’s afraid to be near me. His expression is sorrowful, and it shatters something inside me.

I shake my head quickly.

“No, Will, it’s okay. I know it’s the full moon,” I say, still breathless, still trying to process the searing pain lacing through my body.

But he isn’t listening. His gaze darts around me frantically, looking at my aura. Suddenly, his face twists into sheer, unfiltered shock, as if he’s seen something impossible.

“I need to go. Right now.”

His voice is sharp and urgent, cutting through the air like a blade. Before I can react, before I can even breathe, he turns on his heel and bolts for the doors.

“No! Will, WAIT!” I cry out, desperation tearing through my voice. But it’s too late-he’s already gone, the doors slamming shut behind him.

I exhale sharply, sucking in a deep, uneven breath. My hands run through my hair, fingers shaking as I lower myself onto the bench, the pain slowly ebbing but leaving an eerie void in its place as I consider what has just happened.

…..but also… what had not happened.

There was no warmth or tingles, no cascade of emotion and sensation that had consumed me whenever Austin and I kissed.

This had been a great kiss, and maybe I needed to admit that my feelings for Will had started to shift recently. But… it wasn’t the same. Not even close.

I close my eyes, tracing my bottom lip with my fingertip, my mind drifting back to a different kiss, a kiss that had truly set me alight. Austin’s lips, soft yet insistent, had met mine so unexpectedly on the footbridge, sending an intoxicating warmth through me. It had spread like wildfire, reaching all the way to my fingertips, sinking into every inch of me.

And it hadn’t been a one-time thing. I felt it again, that same all-encompassing heat, when we kissed on the dance floor at Winter Formal-right before the talisman shattered. Whatever I had

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felt then, it had nothing to do with magic. It had been real.

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The memory of that night flashes through my mind, sharper than ever. Austin, steadying me after the kiss, his gaze dark and hungry, a look that sent a shiver down my spine. His hair had been messy, his collar undone, his forearms flexing under rolled-up sleeves that hugged his frame just a little too tightly. Under the glow of the UV lights, his eyes burned with something wild, something u

ndeniable.

And as I sit here now, trying to make sense of what just happened with Will…I realise that no kiss n

o one-had ever made me feel the way Austin did.

I had never desired anything or anyone more in my life, right then.

That was the moment.

We had danced, and for the first time, I felt it-

A powerful pull toward him, urging me closer, begging me to touch him, kiss him… more. Heat flooded my body, my palms and fingertips tingling with electric energy.

I gasp aloud in the greenhouse as the pieces finally click into place.

It was the same. The same feeling I had summoned here, the same sensations from my dreams.

It was all magic.

A wave of realisation crashes over me; it all came back to Austin.

He had been the key to this all along. Little by little, he had drawn my magic to the surface. The heat, the pull, the way my body came alive when he kissed me on the dance floor-whatever bound the talisman, Austin had broken it.

… Tonight, with his help, you will break your shackles..’ I recall the voice from my dreams.

HOW did I not put the two together before now? Austin had indeed helped me break the talisman, the thing that had shackled me for so long.

Like a floodgate bursting open, the truth rushes in.

Something had been nudging me toward him from the very start-from that first jolt in my stomach the moment our eyes met on the patio. The pull I felt on the dance floor, so overwhelming that night, had been there all along-just weaker, quieter. And I had ignored it, dismissing it as nothing more than hormones, a fleeting crush like every other girl at school.

How had I not seen it?

The way kissing him made me feel-it couldn’t be normal.

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Especially after the kiss I’d just had. The difference was undeniable. What I’d felt with Austin had te rrified me with its intensity. And if that was just the beginning… what would it become?

That’s when I knew. I had to end it.

“How do you not feel this too?”

His voice, thick with emotion, echoes in my mind. He had waited for me to wake up, had carried me to safety, held me in his arms-and I had repaid him with false hope, with tears I couldn’t even

explain.

How had I been so blind? So bloody stupid?

A memory crashes into me-sudden, urgent.

That day in the library with Austin. I had been reading about Lycan mate bonds… There was something there. Something important. I need that book.

Without hesitation, I bolt from the greenhouse, sprinting straight to the library. My heart pounds, but I don’t stop-not as I shove through the doors, not as I weave past endless aisles until I reach the Lycanthropy section.

My fingers skim the spines frantically until-there. The Sociology of Lycans.

I yank it from the shelf, flipping feverishly through the pages, searching-needing to find that

passage.