Chapter 77 - The Name They Buried
Athena stared at Silas, the word still echoing in her head.
Theirs.
Her throat felt tight.
"What do you mean?" she asked softly.
Silas didn't answer immediately.
He glanced toward Rowan and Elara as if confirming something silently between them.
Then his eyes returned to her.
"In our history," he began carefully, "there was one family every pack knew. Every Alpha respected. Every wolf trusted."
Athena's heart began to beat faster.
"They were not just leaders," he continued. "They were the rulers of our kind."
Her fingers tightened in the blanket.
"They were known for two things above all else."
Silas's gaze softened slightly.
"Wisdom in war."
He paused.
"And healing no one else could perform."
Athena's breath caught.
"The Goldenthorns," Rowan said quietly from the wall.
The name sounded heavier when someone else said it.
Older.
Sacred.
"They were wiped out years ago," Elara added gently. "In a war with mages."
Athena's mind raced.
Fire.
Smoke.
A man shouting for her to run.
"They were thought to be extinct," Silas said.
He leaned slightly closer to her.
"Until you."
Athena shook her head faintly.
"No... that can't be..."
Silas didn't argue.
He didn't soften it.
"When you healed me," he said, "I felt it. That kind of power is not learned. It is inherited."
Her chest felt tight, like something too big was trying to fit inside her.
"That's why you feel at home here," Silas continued. "Why wolves respond to you without knowing why. Why healing feels natural to you."
Athena's voice was barely a whisper.
"Because I was born for it."
Silas nodded once.
"Yes."
Tears filled her eyes again, but this time they weren't from fear.
They were from recognition.
From something inside her quietly saying:
This makes sense.
"My family wasn't lost," she whispered.
"They were taken."
Silas's jaw tightened.
"Yes."
Athena swallowed hard.
"And Victor..."
Her voice broke slightly.
"He didn't just steal a child."
Silas's eyes darkened.
"He stole wolf royalty."