The Oracle's Redemption: Bound to the Alpha King

June, the final trials of the Arcane Academy had just concluded. Elara Vane finished the last stages of her healing spell and returned to the Thorne family manor, nestled in the "Shadow Wasteland." The moment she stepped through the wrought-iron gate, a heavy, fur-wrapped travel trunk was thrown with a "bang", landing heavily on the cold flagstones at her feet. Agnes Thorne, a noblewoman clad in a luxurious velvet gown, stood at the towering entrance, looking down at her. Her gaze swept over the girl’s moonlit-clear skin and delicate features, a flicker of undetectable malice crossing her eyes, immediately replaced by undisguised contempt. "Your clutter has been tossed in by the lowest servant. As of today, you are to get out of this domain and return to your own disgraceful, low-grade bloodline source!" Elara ignored the trunk on the ground. Her ice-blue eyes fixed calmly on Agnes—the woman she had called "mother" for eighteen years. The commotion in the hall drew the attention of the family members inside. Soon, the Thorne Patriarch and their two children emerged from the shadows. The Patriarch looked at the package thrown at Elara's feet, his tone laced with feigned reproach: "Agnes, what are you doing? Elara is, after all, a Contracted Kin we have fostered for many years." "She is an ungrateful white wolf cub!" Agnes shrieked, pointing at Elara. "I made it perfectly clear that she was to yield her candidacy for the 'Veil of Fate' ritual to Lysandra this time. Yet she dared to openly defy my command! If I hadn't used my resources to uncover the final prophetic scroll, we would still be in the dark! If she possessed even a shred of loyalty to the Contract, she wouldn't covet her sister's destiny!" Lysandra Thorne, standing nearby, heard this and a flash of fierce jealousy crossed her eyes, but it was quickly masked by a layer of fragile innocence. Feigning distress, she softly pleaded: "Mother, please don't be this way. The opportunity for the 'Veil of Fate' is so rare, it’s understandable that Sister didn't want to yield it. Perhaps my own bloodline aura isn't strong enough, which is why I wasn't chosen..." "How is she superior to you? Everything she possesses now was gifted to her by our Thorne family's Dark Blood Contract!" Agnes gently comforted her own daughter. Elara watched the performance of the mother and daughter with calm detachment. From the day she gained her Oracle abilities, she had seen through the very essence of this farce. Four days ago, she was severely wounded, almost torn apart, while deflecting an attack from a Hellhound meant for Lysandra. Everyone believed she would perish in agony. Agnes and the Thorne Patriarch arrived at the scene, their first reaction was not to check her wounds, but to comfort the terrified, sobbing Lysandra. Elara lay on the broken stones, her soul in turmoil. Beyond the coldness of her body, what chilled her heart more were the whispers of the Thorne couple— [Her chest was pierced through, she surely won't make it.] [That's for the best. Her death proves that the Moon-Blessed Aura within her completely neutralized this fated Bloodline Withering for Lysandra. She has justified the Black Magic materials we’ve spent on her over eighteen years...] Elara had always known that she was merely a vessel used by the Thorne family to compensate for the bloodline defects Lysandra incurred by violating an ancient pact. As a child, she never understood why, whenever Lysandra was plagued by Dark Blight, Agnes demanded Elara be by her side twenty-four hours a day. Under Elara’s constant watch, Lysandra would miraculously recover, while Elara herself would fall gravely ill, her magical energy depleted. It wasn't until she met a wandering Astrologer mentor and received guidance that she understood her and Lysandra's bloodlines belonged to the exceedingly rare "Heaven-Earth Nexus" in Yin-Yang numerology, and she was the purest half, the one possessing the most potent Moon-Blessed Aura. The Thorne family kept her close to Lysandra to continuously nourish and repair Lysandra’s bloodline decay—a consequence of low-grade sorcery and covenant breaches—using Elara's superior spiritual energy. With every "Aura Sacrifice," Lysandra's destiny was stolen, becoming brighter, while Elara walked toward the decay of a Weaver of Fate. Had Elara not prepared an Amulet of Spiritual Containment beforehand, perhaps her Moon-Kin bloodline would have been exhausted, and she would have died in that attack four days ago. "Have you finished your Blood Contract soliloquy? Am I permitted to be exiled now?" Hearing the couple coldly discuss her death solidified the last shred of attachment in Elara's heart into absolute, frozen emptiness. She had no regrets about leaving this hypocritical prison. "Elara, you shouldn't blame your foster mother either; you did indeed violate the Contract." The Thorne Patriarch finally stepped forward, his weathered face displaying his usual arrogance and indifference. "Since you have located your low-grade bloodline source, go back to the wilderness with them." Lysandra also chimed in, her voice as vulnerable as a wounded young beast: "Sister, don't be angry with Mother. Everything Mother does is for the continuation of my bloodline." With that, she took a leather-bound parchment scroll from nearby and handed it to Elara, her tone full of condescending pity: "This is the travel fee prepared for the wilderness. Father says your biological parents live deep in that rotten Whispering Forest, where there are no spiritual transfer arrays. Taking some old silver coins might be more convenient." Agnes sneered contemptuously: "Don't say the Thorne family fails to honor the Contractual bond. These silver coins are enough for you to use for a year in the Whispering Forest. Our family has been more than generous with our bloodline sustenance to you." She gave another malicious chuckle, her eyes filled with spite: "When you return to a place like that, you probably won't have a chance to step foot in the Arcane Academy again. I hear those desolate areas are crawling with low-grade werewolves desperate for bloodline proliferation. It'll be a good place for you to be Marked. Your so-called Oracle power is flawed anyway; you certainly won't pass the Alliance's Chief Trial." Elara merely glanced at Agnes, who looked as if she had bestowed a supreme favor while dripping with malice. Elara's words were like a cold blade, carrying an irresistible arcane power: "Your soul is being consumed by the shadows. This is the mark of excessive calculation and accumulating blood debt. Instead of worrying about me, you should use those few thousand silver coins to buy an ancient exorcism rune to compensate for your own depleted aura." She paused, her tone calm but laced with deliberate mockery: "Though, it probably won't do much good." Elara's declaration as an Oracle instantly twisted Agnes's face into a sharp, contorted mask. She roared: "You low-born wretch! Who gave you the right to speak to your provider like that!" She raised her hand, her fingernails instantly elongated, infused with a dark energy, ready to claw at Elara's face. Elara simply watched her with cold eyes, lightly sidestepping the attack. Agnes's palm sliced through the air with a whooshing sound, hitting nothing with a dull thud. Agnes looked on in disbelief: "You dare to dodge..." Seeing this, Lysandra quickly stepped forward and grabbed Elara: "Sister, don't provoke Mother like this! If you apologize humbly, Mother will forgive your transgression." Her words sounded kind, but she intended to physically restrain Elara, preventing her from dodging Agnes's next assault. Elara raised her hand to push her away, but a sweep of her peripheral vision froze her. She saw the jade bracelet with the Moon Goddess carving worn on Lysandra's wrist. Swoosh! She abruptly changed her move, seizing Lysandra's wrist in a vise-like grip. Her voice was chilling, as if coming from a frozen abyss: "Why is this Sacred Relic on you?!" Lysandra had intentionally worn the jade bracelet today as an act of showing off and humiliation. Seeing Elara finally notice it, and being trapped by her icy strength, she instantly looked startled and screamed: "Let go... it hurts so much..." The moment Lysandra cried out, Agnes's expression changed instantly. She grabbed Elara's hand, trying to rip her away, screaming furiously: "Elara Vane! What are you trying to do?!" Elara stared fixedly at Lysandra, her voice frigid: "That was left to me by my grandmother, the Sacred Relic of the Vane Clan." "What Sacred Relic of yours?! That ancient heirloom was left for the Thorne family! You are no longer a Contracted Kin of the Thornes; the relic naturally belongs to Lysandra!" Elara gritted her teeth, released her grip on the travel trunk, and turned to the Thorne Patriarch: "I can dispense with everything I've left in the Thorne family, including the bloodline aura I funneled to you. I only want the Moon Goddess Bracelet left to me by my grandmother." If there was anything she cared about in the Thorne family, it was only her grandmother, who had secretly protected her—the only person in the family who genuinely loved her. This bracelet was the only keepsake the grandmother had left her, imbued with ancient protection runes on her deathbed.