The Warrior’s Broken Mate novel Chapter 14

I sat curled up on the couch, clinging to Elias as though he were the only thing tethering me. to the earth. He knelt in front of me, arms wrapped gently around my trembling frame, one hand stroking slow circles against my back in an effort to soothe me. I buried my face in his shoulder, my sobs muffled by his shirt.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered, his voice laced with worry. “What are you talking about?”

“My father…” I choked out between ragged breaths. “He killed my mother. She told me. In the dream. She said he murdered her.”

Elias hesitated. “Lyra, it was just a dream. Maybe it wasn’t real.”

But it was real. I could feel it in my bones. It wasn’t just some figment of my imagination – it was a message, a warning. My mother had come to me. Not as a memory, not as a wish but with a purpose. She told me to stay close to Elias. That danger was coming. That he was coming. My father.

Even now, his pack was weak, almost laughably so. But power didn’t always come from warriors. My father was cunning, ruthless, and resourceful. He’d find another way. He always did.

I shook my head, silently rejecting Elias’s doubt. “She said he lied. That she didn’t die giving birth to me. She tried to leave him, Elias. She tried to take me with her – and he wouldn’t let her.”

—

This time, he didn’t argue. He just pulled me tighter into his arms and held me as I cried, his presence a silent promise to protect me.

For fifteen years, I lived believing I had taken my mother’s life. That her death was my burden to carry. But now I knew the truth. She had loved me. She had fought for me. And he had taken her away – then twisted the truth to keep me under control.

I didn’t care if no one believed me. I believed it. And that was enough.

I needed answers not just about my mother, but about myself. About what blood ran through my veins. About what power he believed I held. Everything that might help me understand was back in the Crystal River Pack. And I wasn’t ready to go back there – not yet.

Later that night, I found myself on the porch of Elias’s cabin, the two books he’d given me resting on the table in front of me. The air was cool, the stars clear above, but my thoughts were restless. A few wolves passed by, nodding or bowing politely, but no one interrupted. They could probably sense I wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

—

I opened the book on werewolves and flipped through the pages, scanning the same sections I’d seen before the ones about the royal bloodline. According to most, it had died out long ago. I’d never heard of werewolf royalty before. But if it was true if that lineage still flowed through me then I needed to understand it. I had grown up in near total isolation. I didn’t know the first thing about what it meant to be a wolf.

I didn’t even know my own birthday.

Somehow, I knew it was close. That soon, I would shift for the first time. And then… what?

—

I kept reading. The section about the mate bond caught my attention how overwhelming it was for wolves, how consuming. That once a wolf found their mate, they couldn’t bear to be apart. That the loss of one often led to the death of the other, because the grief was too much to survive.

That’s when it hit me.

Elias was already feeling it — all of it. The pull, the need, the connection. But I wasn’t sixteen yet. My wolf hadn’t awakened. I wasn’t feeling anything close to what he was. And the wolfsbane in my system had dulled what little instinct I might have had.

And all this time, I hadn’t realized how much I was hurting him.

Elias came out a few moments later, settling quietly beside me. His eyes flicked down to the open book, but he didn’t say anything.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Guilt settled heavy in my chest. No wonder he’d fought so hard for me. No wonder he’d gone head–to–head with my father, no hesitation. He didn’t just want me – his soul needed me. He couldn’t leave me behind, because some part of him already knew what I was to him.

Elias handed me a cup of coffee, his eyes searching mine with concern. “How are you feeling now?” he asked softly.

“I’m alright, I guess,” I murmured, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. “That dream just really messed with my head.”

“Do you still think it was real? That your mother actually came to you?” he questioned, voice gentle but laced with skepticism.

“Yes. And I’m not crazy,” I snapped back defensively, sitting a little straighter. He needed to understand that I wasn’t making this up or losing my mind.

“I never said you were,” he said quickly. “I know you believe it. It’s just… hard for me to wrap my head around it.”

“Well, I think it was my mother. She told me she was, but I wouldn’t really know–I’ve never seen her face.” I lowered my gaze.

“You’ve never seen a photo of her?” Elias asked, clearly surprised.

“Not a single one. After she died, they wiped every trace of her from the packhouse. It’s like she never existed,” I said, my voice quieter now. “She told me her name was Rowan.” A small smile touched my lips as I remembered the soft kindness in her voice when she’d said her name.

Elias watched me closely for a moment, then said, “I think you’ve been staring at these books long enough for one night.”

“Maybe,” I conceded. “But there’s so much I need to understand.”

“I know,” he replied, taking the books gently from my lap. “But we’ve got time. You don’t need to rush.” With that, we headed back inside.

We’d already eaten, so Elias put on a movie while I settled in. He rubbed the healing cream over my wounds again, and for the first time, I noticed they were starting to shrink just a little.

The pain was still there, but it wasn’t as raw as before.

Suddenly, loud banging echoed from the front door, startling us both. Elias got up to open it, and Luke rushed in, breathless and wild–eyed.

“What the hell, man?” Elias asked, catching him by the shoulders.

“Lenore escaped,” Luke panted. “She slipped past the patrol and killed one of the warriors.”

Elias immediately turned to me, alarmed. “Get two guards stationed at the front door now.

She is not to come near this house,” he ordered Luke, who nodded and left at once.

“Are you going after her?” I asked, heart racing.

“Yeah,” he said with a determined look. “Maybe she’ll listen to me. But don’t worry. The guards will keep you safe. I promise.”

“Alright,” I whispered.

“I’ll try not to be long,” he added, and before leaving, he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my forehead–the first time he’d ever done something so tender. I was too stunned to respond before he was gone, jacket in hand.

The guards arrived shortly after, announced themselves, checked every window and door, making sure everything was locked tight before positioning themselves at the front.

I retreated to my room, peering out the window at the village below. People were hurrying into their homes, locking up, while warriors darted around, vanishing into the forest to search for Lenore. The urgency in their movements made my nerves spike.

Trying to calm myself, I sat on my bed and picked up the werewolf book again. I tried to distract myself, even though I could barely focus. I switched to the Royal book and began flipping through the family tree section. The idea that in the 1300s, the King and Queen had ten children intrigued me. What had happened to them? Could I really be the last living heir?

That still wasn’t certain, but I needed to know.

Some time passed before I heard the front door click shut and footsteps echo down the hallway. Relieved, I stepped out of my room, expecting Elias–only to stop dead in my tracks.

A red–haired woman was standing in the doorway of Elias’s bedroom. She turned slowly, sensing my presence, and in her hand glinted a sharp blade. My breath caught. I was still too weak from the lingering effects of the poison to defend myself, even if it hadn’t been silver.

“Hello, dearie,” she purred darkly, her eyes black as ink, radiating malice. “I was wondering when we’d finally get a moment alone.”