The Silver Wolf (Diana and Talon) novel Chapter 193

Chapter One Hundred Ninety Three

Thorne walked slowly through the underground halls of his lair, his black robes trailing behind him as dark magic curled around his feet like living smoke. The entire place responded to his presence.

The lighted stone walls flickered whenever he passed. Shadows stretched untiaturally toward him. The very air felt heavier, colder, poisoned by the power he had allowed to grow inside him. On both sides of the corridor, feral wolves knelt with their heads lowered.

Not out of loyalty. Not truly. Out of control. Their minds had been broken long ago. Whatever personalities they once possessed were gone. Their memories of family, pack, mate, and home had been stripped away until all that remained was aggression, obedience, and an endless hunger to attack. Some still bore the scars of the spells used to change them. Others trembled as Thorne passed, their wolves instinctively recognizing the being who had destroyed them. Thorne barely looked at them. To him, they were weapons, Tools. Nothing more.

Farther down the corridor were the dungeons. That was where the newest captives waited. Wolves Thorne’s ferals had dragged from roads, forests, and isolated patrol routes. Wolves who still remembered. who they were. For now. Thorne could hear them before he reached the dungeon doors. Crying. Begging. Praying. Some called for their mates. Others shouted the names of their Alphas.

One male wolf repeatedly begged Thorne to release him because his pup had just been born. Another cursed him until his voice broke. A female prisoner sobbed quietly somewhere in the darkness. They all knew what awaited them. Conversion. Slow destruction.

Their bodies would remain alive. Their wolves would remain strong. But their minds would be broken until they became nothing more than the same feral creatures kneeling outside. Waiting for commands. Waiting to kill their own kind.

Thorne paused near one of the iron doors. A pair of frightened eyes stared at him through the narrow opening.

“Please,” the wolf whispered.

Thorne tilted his head.

“Please what?”

“Let me go.”

The wolf’s voice shook

“I have a mate. She is waiting for me.”

The word mate stirred something uncomfortable inside Thorne. A memory. White hair. Pale eyes. A woman saying-

My love.

Thorne’s smile vanished. The darkness inside him immediately surged. He pushed the memory away.

“No”

Chapter Opendred Ninety Thre

The wolf flinched.

“You should save your strength.”

Thorne continued walking.

“You will need it.”

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The wolf began screaming after him. Thome ignored every word. Yet the word mate stayed inside his mind. Revnna. His steps slowed. Why did her name keep returning? Why did his heart react whenever he thought of her? She was the White Witch. His enemy. The one destined to protect the Silver Wolf. That was all. Wasn’t it?

Thorne clenched his jaw. He did not want to think about Ravenna. Not now. He had work to do.

He continued toward the large central chamber of his lair. A circular stone platform occupied the center of the room. Ancient symbols had been carved into the floor, each one filled with dark liquid that glowed faintly whenever Thorne approached.

The moment he stepped into the center, the symbols brightened. Thorne closed his eyes. He inhaled slowly. Then released his magic.

Darkness rolled outward from his body. It spread across the stone floor. Through the walls. Into the earth.

The magic traveled like roots beneath the ground, moving farther and farther away from his lair. Through forests. Beneath rivers.

Across territories.

Thorne’s breathing became deeper as his consciousness followed the magic. He could feel the ferals positioned throughout the region. Small groups near minor packs. Larger forces hidden inside caves. Others waiting beyond the borders of the Royal Pack.

He reached for those wolves first. Hundreds of minds responded. Empty. Broken. Waiting.

With his magic flowing through them, Thorne could see through their senses. The trees. The patrols. The defensive walls. The warriors stationed along the borders. Then his darkness reached Black Howler.

Thorne frowned. Something stopped him. A barrier. His magic struck it and recoiled. His eyes opened slightly.

“Well.”

A slow smile appeared on his face.

“This is new.”

He closed his eyes again and pushed harder. The barrier remained. It was not wolf magic. Not even the protection created by the Alpha King’s aura. This was witchcraft. White magic. Layered carefully around Black Howler’s borders. Not designed simply to block him. Designed to recognize him. Thorne’s smile faded.

“The White Witch.”

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Chapter OpeHundred Ninety Three

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Ravenna: His magic pressed against the barrier again. It responded immediately. A flash of pale energy burned through his darkness and forced it backward. Thorne laughed softly.

“Not bad.”

He walked slowly around the circular platform, never withdrawing his power entirely.

“Not bad at all, White Witch.”

The barrier was strong. Stronger than the protections he had tested around other packs. Ravenna had woven several forms of magic together. Detection spells. Poison barriers. Dark-magic resistance. Protection charms.

Even ancient symbols that made it difficult for Thorne to use the ferals as eyes once they crossed too close to the border. He studied the work carefully. Ravenna had always been talented. No. More than

talented. Powerful.

The strongest White Witch of their generation. Something inside Thorne warmed with pride. Then he frowned. Why would he feel pride? He shook the thought away.

“So this is your choice,” he whispered. “You truly chose them.”

The darkness around him thickened.

“You chose the Silver Wolf.”

Again. That word. Chosen. Something painful twisted inside him. Agatha chose Lucian. Ravenna chose Diana. Everyone chose the Silver Wolf. Never him. Thorne’s magic struck the barrier again. It trembled slightly but did not break. He narrowed his eyes.

“I could destroy it.”

Perhaps. But not easily. It would require time. Concentration. And enough magic that Ravenna would immediately feel what he was doing. He withdrew slightly. Then something else touched his power. Something faint. New. Thorne stopped moving. His expression changed.

“What…”

He pushed his magic forward again, this time not trying to break the barrier. He searched. The darkness moved carefully around its edges. Listening. Feeling. Then- He sensed it. A heartbeat. One strong. One tiny. New life.

Thorne went completely still. His darkness recoiled as though burned. For one heartbeat, every feral wolf connected to him froze.

The world around Thorne became silent. Then understanding slowly entered his expression.

“A child.”

He whispered the word. The Silver Wolf was carrying a child. The next generation. The next branch of Lucian’s blood. Thorne’s lips slowly curved upward.

“So…”

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Chapter Opened Ninety Three

His laugh began quietly. Then grew.

“The Silver Wolf is with pup.”

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His laughter echoed throughout the underground chamber. The feral wolves outside lowered themselves farther to the ground.

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