Stormborn to the Alpha

Chapter 11 - The House Holds Answers

*Raiden – pov*

A tight, restless pull in my chest prevented sleep.

Elara.

She wasn’t sleeping.

I could feel it in the way her energy moved…uneven, sharp, circling like something trapped.

It felt unsettling, disturbed and alone.

Even with my patrols around Rosewood, even with wolves stationed at the tree line, the anxiety in my chest kept pulling.

Aeron paced under my skin.

Go to mate.

“Fine,” I muttered under my breath, grabbing a shirt as I moved through the packhouse.

Rosewood stood tall and dark against the night sky. It felt ominous and cursed. The house was silent except for the faint creak of old wood and the wind outside pressing against the windows like something trying to get in.

When I reached the upper floor, instinct told me where she would be.

The master suite.

Something about that room had felt… different even before I knew why. I pushed the door open quietly and stopped.

Elara sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders slightly hunched, staring at the portraits on the far wall like she’d been physically struck.

She looked fragile but not weak. Vulnerable in a way I hadn’t seen from her before. Like the ground beneath her had shifted and she hadn’t yet found stable footing again.

My chest tightened.

This wasn’t the woman who argued with and commanded the contractors like an army general.

This wasn’t the woman who stood between my legs and kissed me like she wasn’t afraid of anything.

This version seemed quieter, younger. Almost lost.

Her voice cut through the silence the moment she saw me.

“This was my parents. My home”

I stepped further inside slowly.

“Yes,” I said simply.

Her head snapped toward me.

“You knew.”

It wasn’t an accusation but more disbelief.

“I suspected,” I admitted.

Her jaw tightened instantly.

“Suspected,” she repeated flatly.

I exhaled slowly.

Not the best wording.

“Elara,” I said gently, keeping my distance so I didn’t overwhelm her, “do you know anything about the history of this house?”

She let out a short, humorless breath.

“I know it’s old. Expensive. And apparently full of very dead aristocrats.”

I almost smiled.

“You’re not completely wrong,” I murmured.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

“Raiden.”

There it was again.

That controlled irritation tone trying very hard not to turn into panic.

I stepped closer to the portraits instead, letting her stay seated while I anchored myself beside the past.

“This estate belonged to the Alpha King and Queen,” I said quietly.

She folded her arms immediately.

“I gathered that from the giant painting of them looking like they stepped out of a fantasy novel.”

A pause.

“Those are your parents?” she asked but she already knew it wasn’t.

“No.”

“Not mine,” I corrected. “But they were the rulers of the original wolf territories in this region.”

Her eyes flicked back to the portrait of the white-haired man.

“And this is supposed to be relevant to me… how exactly?”

I hesitated.

Because this was the point where logic usually broke and Elara was very, very logical.

“I need you to keep an open mind,” I said carefully.

Her expression immediately warned me that I was about to lose her.

“That’s never a good sentence.”

“I know.”

A beat of silence.

Then I continued anyway.

“The Alpha King was a white wolf,” I said.

Her brows furrowed slightly.

“Your telling me that this human man is what…a werewolf?”

The skepticism was immediate. Comforting in its predictability.

I nodded once.

“Yes.”

Her mouth tightened.

I watched her carefully waiting for dismissal.

For laughter.

For anger.

Instead—

She just looked tired.

Like her mind was trying to decide whether to shut this down or humour it out of exhaustion.

I stepped a little closer to the portrait, keeping my voice steady.

“The Queen was a witch,” I continued.

That finally got her attention.

“Okay,” she said slowly. “Now we’re officially in fiction territory.”

I didn’t argue.

Because I understood how it sounded. Even to me sometimes.

“She was known for foresight,” I added. “Immediate visions of threats. Enough to shift outcomes before they happened.”

Elara studied the painting more closely now.

Her gaze flicked between the woman and the baby in her arms.

Then back to me.

“What happened to them?”

I exhaled slowly.

This was where I had to be careful because truth didn’t land gently.

“There was an accident. The king and queen were overpowered and murdered almost 28 years ago.”

I watched her face carefully as her eyes went to the baby and her mind started doing the math.

“And the baby?” She said after what felt like an eternity.

“She was never found. It is believed that she was taken and disguised. Legend has it, she will return once the house is ready to reveal her.”

Her face held no emotion. I couldn’t read her expression to figure out what she was thinking. She didn’t start laughing which was a good sign of her trying to keep an open mind.

“And what do you think this legend has to do with me?”

I had to be careful choosing my next words.

“It’s not just legend,” I said quietly. “There are records. Pack histories.”

Her lips parted slightly, then closed again.

I could see her internal battle. Logic versus something deeper. Something she didn’t yet recognise.

“I’m a vet,” she said suddenly. “I deal with anatomy, biology, physical evidence. Not folklore.”

“I know.”

“And you’re telling me the man and woman in this portrait is my biological parents. You’re telling me they were a magical wolf king and witch queen who lived in this mansion in the middle of nowhere and were overpowered and murdered?”

When she said it out loud like that…Even I had to admit it sounded insane.

“Yes,” I said anyway.

Her stare hardened instantly.

“Raiden.”

I held her gaze.

“I’m not asking you to believe it yet,” I added more softly. “I’m asking you not to dismiss it immediately.”

A pause.

Then she looked away, not convinced and definitely not accepting yet. I could see the overwhelm on her face.

“I need time,” she said quietly.

“That’s fair.”

She stood slowly, moving toward the window like she needed distance from everything in the room.

From me. From the portraits. From the idea of all of it.

“I just don’t understand how you seem so sure,” she muttered.

My wolf stirred again.

Because I feel you. Because you’re mine. Aeron chimed in.

I didn’t voice his thoughts. Instead, I watched her carefully as she stood beneath the moonlight spilling through the glass.

She looked so small but seemed so strong. Fractured and somehow exactly where she was always meant to be.

“I’m not asking you to believe the story,” I said quietly.

Her eyes flicked toward me again.

“Then what are you asking?”

A pause.

My chest tightened slightly.

“Stay,” I said simply.

Heavy, charged silence filled the room.

Her expression softened just slightly at the word.

Although the confusion was still there, something else was there too. Something I knew she was starting to feel but couldn’t yet name.

Outside the wind pressed against the old house like it was listening.