The Werewolf King: Chapter 7 – Shadows of the Past & A Dance of Light
Clara sat cross-legged on the floor of what had once been the Royal Steward’s study. Shelves filled with aged books and ledgers surrounded her, their spines cracked and worn. The room smelled of parchment and dust, but to Clara, it carried the promise of secrets waiting to be unveiled. She flipped through a record book, the light from a nearby window pooling over the yellowed pages.
“I told you you’re not likely to find anything there,” Thalion said from the doorway.
Clara looked up to see him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. Despite the weariness in his voice, there was a softness in his expression that hinted at curiosity.
“Now, now, don’t be like that. You never know,” she chastised lightly with a teasing smile. “Merrick…was that his name?” She peered at the paper in her hands. “—seems to have been very thorough with his records.”
Thalion chuckled at her reproachful tone, stepping into the room. “Yes, Merrick was a good man. He served as the Royal Steward for years under my father, and then for me. I wouldn’t be remiss in saying that he knew more about the goings-on in this castle than I did.”
“Well then,” Clara replied, her smile widening, “maybe there’s something here that can help us resolve what happened when you… transformed the first time.” She hesitated, avoiding the mention of his wife’s death.
Thalion’s face tightened, but he sat down across from her, pulling a record book from a low shelf. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to avoid mentioning that night… or her.”
Clara nodded and turned her attention back to her book. “I’ve seen her mentioned a few times in these records,” she offered tentatively. “Rosalinde… It’s a beautiful name.”
Thalion’s lips quirked in a bittersweet smile. “Yes, Rose. That’s what I called her. Everyone loved her, we grew up together. Our marriage was arranged when she was an infant, and I was just a boy.”
“Really? But it sounds like you were so in love.”
“We were. We were very lucky, not many arranged couples fall in love, but we did. The most you can usually hope for is to simply get along well enough to not be at each other’s throats. That was what my parents had.”
“That sounds kind of… sad.”
“They got along well enough,” Thalion admitted, his gaze distant. “They never fought or argued, but once I was born, they led separate lives. My mother moved from the royal bedchamber into the nursery to care for me. She was happy there, and so was I. My parents were good people… just not destined for one another.”
“Destined for one another,” Clara murmured, her words lingering in the air between them. Their eyes met, the moment stretching until Clara flushed and returned her focus to the record book.
Minutes passed in silence until Clara pulled out another journal from the shelf nearby and opened it. When she saw what was inside, she gasped.
“What is it?” Thalion looked up sharply at her distress.
“This is from the months leading up to your first transformation. The dates indicate that the records stopped… that night.”
“What does it say?” Thalion shifted closer, his breath brushing her shoulder as he peered at the pages. He wondered why he’d never thought to look in these records before. Perhaps because he had his own account of that terrible night and couldn’t bear the thought of uncovering any new details others had observed.
Clara skimmed the journal, her brow furrowing. “It’s an account of visitors and daily happenings in the castle. The last entry was written by a maid… Millie?”
Thalion nodded. “She was one of Rose’s favorites. They were close, though some might not have approved of a queen being friends with a maid.”
Clara continued reading. “She wrote about hearing howls, screams, and… snarls. The staff were too afraid to investigate. But she also wrote about… fighting.”
“Fighting?” Thalion repeated, his voice tight.
“Do you remember fighting the other wolf?”
“No,” he admitted, his brow creasing. “I thought he just… came into the castle, bit me, and left. I don’t remember a fight.”
Her fingers traced the lines of Millie’s words. “The staff hid for hours. She described the sounds of fighting moving across rooms… like a battle. Did you see evidence of that?”
Thalion’s face darkened as fragmented memories stirred. “I saw… something. But everything from that night is hazy. I always assumed I destroyed the rooms after finding Rose.”
She turned to him, her voice trembling. “Thalion… what if you were protecting her? What if the other wolf… attacked her, and you fought to stop him?”
Thalion swallowed hard, his throat working as he struggled to piece together the truth. “It’s possible,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.
They spent time going through more of the books, but the account written in the Steward’s records, by Millie, was the only evidence they found. Still, it was more than Thalion had ever known about that night that wasn’t from his own recollection. Somehow, it helped to know that there might be things about it that he didn’t remember.
Clara recalled seeing more books in the Grand Ballroom, and they decided to search there as well. Thalion helped her up from the floor, his hand resting lightly at her back as he guided her from the room. During her time at the castle, Clara had cleaned the space, restoring a touch of life to its faded grandeur. On her previous visits, she had mostly ignored the shelves, only dusting them in passing. Now, they searched through the books lining the walls, their conversation lighter.
“You take that shelf, and I’ll take this one,” Clara said, pointing to each in turn.
“Yes, my lady,” Thalion replied with a smirk, giving her a short bow.
Clara’s face reddened and she bit her lip. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“No, I like it,” Thalion interrupted, his smile softening. “I like hearing you order me around.”
Clara smiled shyly, then turned to start looking at the shelf nearest her. They searched in companionable silence for a while. Long enough for the sky to darken outside. Thalion quickly built a fire in the large hearth while Clara lit the lamps on the walls near where they continued their search.
As the sky grew blacker, Clara found a small golden box hidden among the books. When she opened it, a haunting melody filled the air.
“That was my mother’s,” Thalion said, glancing up from his search. “She loved that song and always requested it whenever there was a ball with musicians in the castle. When I was little, she would even ask my father to dance with her—and he would. As I said, they were kind to each other. They did love each other, in their own way.”
“That’s sweet.” Clara went to close the little music box, but suddenly Thalion was standing behind her.
“No, let it play.” He reached around her and flipped the lid back open.
“Okay,” Clara whispered breathlessly. The feeling of his warm body, his chest a hard barrier at her back, made her breath come faster.
“When I was older…” Thalion continued, his voice soft. “My mother would dance with me sometimes.”
“Did she?” Clara was staring at the music box in her hands. She didn’t dare look at the man behind her, overwhelmed by the unfamiliar feelings stirring within her as his presence surrounded her.
“Yes,” he answered. “Clara would you…” He paused and she got the nerve to put down the music box to turn and meet his gaze. Thalion kept his hands on the shelf behind her, keeping her caged within his arms. They were so close, it felt as if they were breathing the same air.
“Would I what?” she asked in a breathless whisper.
“Would you dance with me?”
Clara’s heart raced as his body pressed against hers, his warmth chasing away the chill in the air.
Without waiting for her response, Thalion gently took her hand and led her into a slow, tentative dance. For a moment, the past and present blurred—memories of his mother, his queen, and now Clara filled his mind.
He remembered happier times. Spinning around the dance floor with his mother when he was still a child, his father clapping and cheering them on. Then later as a young man, his mother looking at him proudly as they danced, telling him what a great husband he was going to be for his queen.
But as the music played on, the memories grew darker. He remembered dancing with his queen, but the thoughts wouldn’t relent. His chest tightened and suddenly he stopped moving. Clara stepped away before realizing he wasn’t joining her in the dance any longer.
Thalion panted as the room spun in his vision. He couldn’t breathe and he felt hot, searing pain all over his body, as if something was tearing him apart. The tear of sharp claws, of razor-edged teeth. In his mind, but sounding as if it were all around him, he heard howling. Then the sound of Rose’s scream.
“Thalion!” Clara called out, when he staggered, his hand going to his head as if in agony. “What is it?”
“I…I… remember.”
She didn’t ask what. She already knew.
“She tried to… save me,” Thalion rasped.
“Tell me what happened.” Clara’s voice was calm, though her heart fluttered in her chest and her hands shook as she held onto his arm.
“The other wolf… it was huge. It bit me and then went for her. I transformed almost immediately…like I said, the crown with its magic was responsible. I don’t think he expected that. He looked over, and even with his wolf face, I could see his surprise. I pounced on him, and we fought. Every time he knocked me down, he went for Rose, and every time, I pulled him back. Until…”
“Until what, Thalion.” She said softly, knowing he needed to remember all of it. He couldn’t stop now.
“Until she stepped between us. It happened so fast. He lunged for me while I lay on the floor, my body torn apart. I could barely move, but I was ready to fight for her again. She screamed and jumped in front of me, her hands raised. His claws, his teeth—they struck her instead of me. She was so small compared to him. It was over in an instant. I couldn’t do anything for her. I saw her eyes—so still. Lifeless.”
The realization hit him like a physical blow: he hadn’t killed his queen. He had fought to protect her, but it hadn’t been enough.
As the song faded, the music box wound down, its melody dissolving into the vast silence of the Great Hall. Only the sound of their breaths remained—unsteady, lingering in the charged space between them. Thalion’s chest rose and fell in an uneven rhythm, his face pale as he fought to steady himself, to push back the weight of grief and memory clawing at his mind.
Clara reached out, her touch warm and grounding on his arm. “We’ll find the whole truth,” she whispered. “Together.”
Thalion’s gaze lingered on her, something in her steady presence anchoring him. For the first time in years, a spark of hope flickered in the darkness that had long consumed him. Clara was more than a comfort—she was a reminder that he was not alone in this. That he did not have to carry his pain in silence.
“There may still be evidence,” she continued, her voice strong with quiet determination. “Something in the village or the castle grounds. We can uncover it—find out who the other wolf was.”
Thalion exhaled slowly, the weight in his chest shifting. Hope was a fragile thing, but it was there. Still, beneath it, another emotion stirred—darker, colder.
Vengeance.
“I need to find him,” he said, his voice low and edged with steel. “The wolf—the man—who took Rose from me.”
Clara tightened her grip on his arm, as if sensing the shift in him. “Then we will.”
Her words were meant to reassure, but as they parted for the night, Thalion felt something else rising within him. A flicker of a memory—glowing eyes in the darkness, filled with malice. His jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists.
He would find the other wolf.
And this time, he would not let him escape.
To be continued…
Story written and illustrated by The Queen of Halloween 365
Copyright © 2025 The Queen of Halloween 365. All rights reserved.