Chapter 5: The Werewolf in the Mirror
501 Words
The shabby inn room at the edge of the territory could not shield Elena’s shattered heart. She sat before a dim mirror, the flickering candle casting shadows across her weary face. Her pale golden eyes looked hollow, as if questioning her very existence.
“Alpha’s mate…” she whispered, voice trembling. The word was supposed to be sacred, yet in her mouth it was nothing but searing pain.
Moonlight filtered through the window, and in the mirror appeared something strange. For a fleeting moment, her eyes glowed with a deeper golden hue, almost radiant. Then, within the glass, the image of a white wolf emerged—silent, steady, gazing at her from the other side.
Elena stumbled back, her heart pounding. “No… this can’t be real…”
But the vision did not fade. Instead, it grew sharper, until she could feel its hot breath, hear the low growl resonating within her chest.
“You… are me?” Her trembling hand reached toward the mirror. The white wolf mirrored her movement, paw against palm, a flawless reflection.
A surge of energy swept through her body—warm yet fierce. For a moment, shame and despair melted away, replaced by awe. Elena realized she was not useless. Deep within, a power lay waiting to be awakened.
A sudden knock startled her. She quickly covered the mirror. The innkeeper, an old woman, poked her head inside, sighing.
“Girl, you’d best leave soon. This pack will never let you stay in peace.”
Elena bit her lip, fists tightening. The woman’s words echoed in her mind, alongside the vision of the white wolf. She knew the time had come to walk away.
Elsewhere, in the Alpha’s mansion, Damien sat frozen with a glass of wolf wine. Moonlight spilled across his cold face, yet in his silver eyes flickered torment.
He remembered the square, the jeers aimed at Elena. The bond had pulled tight in his chest, urging him to shield her. For a heartbeat, he wanted to. But the memory of his first mate—the blood, the loss—rose like a blade, severing the urge.
“She is weak. She’ll die if she stays by my side,” he muttered, trying to convince himself. Yet his heart betrayed him with every painful beat.
When he closed his eyes, he saw her beneath the moonlight—fragile, trembling, yet refusing to collapse.
His grip on the glass tightened until it cracked. Part of him roared to run and hold her, but the chains of his past bound him too tightly.
He did not know that at that very moment, Elena had already chosen to leave the pack—carrying within her the soul of the awakened white wolf.
That night, before her departure, Elena turned for one last glance. The moon hung cold and distant, yet her gaze burned with new fire.
“I will not remain weak.” She whispered, her golden eyes blazing bright as moonlight reflected on white snow.
- Writer
