The women. Emma recognized them, knew they were out there, alive, no manacles, not buried beneath the earth but able to move freely around. Especially the one that resembled her. She was just out of her mind's reach, yet she could almost touch her. Why didn't the woman come to her? Emma could summon up no face, no past, only the knowledge that she was out there somewhere. She called to her. Begged. Pleaded. Raged. She had a feeling the latter was related to her. But where was she? Why wouldn't she come to her? Why did she allow her agony to continue when even her presence in her mind would ease the terrible sense of isolation? What had she done that was so terrible that she deserved this?Anger found its way into her world. Hatred, even. In the place of a girl, a monster grew, deadly, dangerous, grew and thrived on the pain, became a will impossible to crush. Fifty years, a hundred - what did it matter if she traveled to the very gates of hell for revenge? She already resided there,
Emma found herself admiring the stranger’s brain, her thinking patterns, the way she focused wholly on her work.The latter was researching a disease, seemed obsessed with finding a cure. Perhaps that was why she often found her in the dimly lit room, covered in blood, her hands buried deep within a body. She was conducting experiments. It didn't excuse the abomination of what she was, but Emma could admire her single-minded purpose. She was able to put aside her need for sleep, for sustenance, for long periods. She felt her need, but she concentrated so wholly on what she was doing, she didn't seem to recognize her body's cries for normal care.And she was everything to her. Her Savior. Her tormentor. Without her presence, without touching her mind, Emma would have been completely insane, and she knew it. The lady unwittingly shared her strange life with her, gave her something to concentrate on, a companionship of sorts. In a way it was ironic. She thought her locked underground.
“So, Fayot…Is there anything else you can tell us about Legardo which you think will be useful in trapping him or defeating him?” Sheila questioned.They had all returned from the search some minutes ago, and after exchanging information, had convened at the sitting room of the Alpha’s residence. With them were Yodah, Ava and Eva. Eva, who was still scratching her hands, though subtly, even after taking her bath three times, and applying the lavender oil her mother had mentioned had soothing and healing properties. “Well, I am not sure.”Fayot started, a furrow to his eyebrows. Fayot had always seen Legardo as a wild cunning cat, someone that you could never predict. He had tried, and he had failed for every goddamn time. “He is quite cunning, and with his two very special children under his beck and call, I would say it would be tricky to trap him.” “Do the children know of his double identity?” Melvina questioned, her hands remaining clasped with Peter’s. At their return, he
Yodah wondered how he could zoom out of the room without being conspicuous when he saw Eva slither out of Maya’s hold and walked out of the sitting room. Fayot had been released to an anxious Lent, and Peter had announced to the pack that the former wasn’t a traitor, just a misguided fellow that had been under the control of the evil Legardo. This was to prevent a jungle justice on the young man who had been implanted in the bad graces of the pack members. Anthony had left too to work on the alliances with the neighboring packs. Melvina and Sheila were in the kitchen, probably reuniting and burying the hatchet. Agrip had left to his books, and Ava had followed him to help with the research. Yet no one took cognizance of Eva who had left still scratching his hands.Yodah turned sharply to Freya when he perceived the claw of an intruder in his head. Get out of my mind, Freya. I don’t want Aiden coming for my head. He watched as Freya held back a snort. He knew by the tug at the
The sky darkened so fast. Curtis thought, as he stared out from the window in his room to the world around his pack. It had been more than three hours after the conversation with his father, and two after being with his mother. He had never seen his mother so shattered emotionally, so wrecked. It had taken him all the control, all the tightening of the restraints to remember not to kill his father before the allotted time. He sighed a minute later, noting his folded fists. His body was still thrumming with the feeling, the feeling of punching his father at least one time. Yet, he couldn't do that, not until everything had been sorted out. His mother hadn't told him much, hadn't told him something new other than what he had found out whilst being at his cousin's pack. Except for the fact that she thought her mate was misguided, and needed some direction. He had bit his tongue from asking her why her presence or words hadn't been enough to keep his father in a firm line. He had bit
..And he would have been as bad as his old man. Curtis was glad that his father had overlooked him, that his father had thought him as weak as a woman. He wouldn't have been able to recognize himself if it had been the other way round. But of course he gave out a crook smile, and cocked his head to the side as if to say that his father had really done a stupid job in choosing who to trust. "You are truly my blood." Arnold started, rearranging himself on the sofa, sitting upright now, for he had been reclining deeper in the sofa. "And even though my discovery is quite late, I'm glad that I could see it at least today. We should work together from now on. What do you think?" Curtis nodded his head. "Your wish is my command." There was a mock bow that had Arnold chuckling again, a chuckle that dried up, when he remembered something. "What is the matter, father?" Curtis inquired, more curious than concerned."Your mother. How is she?" Curtis shrugged his shoulders. "She is fine, j
Curtis waited for thirty minutes after his father had left the pack before sauntering into his father’s study to begin the quest that was his mission to the pack in the first place. The office was still the same, still organized as it had always been. The servants were doing their job then. The servants.He remembered that he hadn’t seen any of them since his return. Had his mother sent them away so that his father wouldn’t have anyone to prepare food for him?Curtis chuckled. He knew that his father couldn’t cook to save his life. What had the old man been feeding on then? He should have teased him with that. Curtis thought. After his discussion with his mother earlier, she had prepared a delicious meal, for the both, even though Curtis was aware that she had purposely left some in the pot for her mate. He was also aware that his father had eaten the stuff up. He had been in the kitchen before the study. His parents. He didn’t know if he should hope for their reconciliation
Curtis hit the wall of his father’s office in frustration, after searching the whole area, to the best of his knowledge, and finding nothing. There was nothing. No cameras or memory cards. Nothing to prove his uncle’s innocence, or stop the blackmail. He sank to his father’s chair, and lowered his head to the table, his thoughts seeking a solution. Where else could he go to search for this? Twenty minutes earlier, after searching to no avail, he had walked to his parents’ room and had ransacked the place upside down, then rearranged it in case he missed anything and also to douse suspicions but there had been nothing. He had returned here, and still there was nothing. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t fail on his first mission. That wasn’t nice. He must retrieve that disk, but how? How could he find it? Should he meet his father’s beta? Because thinking of this right now, there was no way his father would have pulled off the blackmailing act alone. There must have been t
Emma’s eyes were as active as anything active as she watched the elders slowly walk into the hall reserved for judging cases, like Annabel’s. As she watched them, her feet kept dancing on the floor in a funny unsteady motion; she was unsteady. One, one. Then two, two. Then one two. Once, Amelia had looked at her, with a piqued eyebrow. ‘What is that?’ Her eyes seemed to ask, but Emma had given no answer. What is it? It should be what are they?! When they were hurrying over to the hall, after convincing the guards that they would be around for the trial too, her sister had whispered that the cabin, her parent’s cabin, had been burnt by the master, Slediv. It had brought Emma up short, making her stagger on her feet for two reasons. That Slediv had really traced them, even without her then, and that the cabin was burnt; the loss it meant for her parents. Would they regret helping her then? Prescott didn’t think so. But Emma was still worried about it, just like her mind had tried
One week later:Emma had run to the clinic, immediately Adah had burst into her apartment with the news that Annabel and Amelia were awake. Over the couple of days in class, they had bonded over gossip, and training, seeing as the latter was the only one that had been sincerely interested in her. Emma had run with Prescott in her hands, and Adah right behind her. And when she arrived at the room she had frequented daily with prayers, and saw her sister and her friend chatting tiredly, she let out a scream of happiness and hurried over to them. “Amelia! Annabel!” She called gaily, garnering the attention of the two females sitting cross-legged on the same bed. Before they could let out a shout or smile of their own, Emma’s hands were already around them. “Oh my goodness, I am so happy for both of you…” she paused. “but give me a heartache again, and I will skin you both alive..” Annabel and Amelia divulged bouts of laughter, with the nurses. Prescott and Adah weren’t left behind,
Caden sighed in relief at his mate’s words, wanting to believe at all costs that the years he had spent with her, that the love they had shared, hadn’t been in vain. He didn’t know what he would have done otherwise. Cry, brood? Neither was acceptable in these times. And so, he wasn’t moved when his son piqued an eyebrow at his mate’s words, or when his daughter’s lips turned up—in disgust or curiosity, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t care. He just hung on to the thread that his mate was spinning with. “I didn’t cheat on my mate, I’m sure he would have found out if I had done so, considering the mate bond and all that…” There was a pause, where relief sunk its foothold the more in Caden and his children. “So, if that’s what you are thinking, Caden… if that’s what you all are thinking, cut it out. I was surprised too when Claire had met me with the news at first, and I didn’t tell you, Caden, because I wasn’t sure how to explain the phenomena to you. I knew you held the lineage of you
Chyra didn’t know what Clem was talking about—the end of the world, and all that—but she knew that she was to blame for Claire rejecting her mate considering what she had soaked into her daughter’s mind about the alpha’s family, about how the Luna seat was her birthright. She also knew that she shouldn’t be working with Arnold. But she was too proud to concede to that, to concede to anyone, and so she shrugged her shoulders to Clem’s question. In the next second, she saw why that had been a wrong play on her part. When she saw Clem fume in anger, when she saw Claire glare at her stinkingly, when she saw her mate watch her like she was foolish, she knew that she had made a mistake. It would have been best if she had kept quiet, than giving off that nonchalant attitude. But her pride held her back from apologizing. Why should she apologize for being a mother caring to give her daughter the best? “Mother, are you so daft that…” Clem was saying when his father shouted him down. Caden
At this point, Clem didn’t know what to think about his sister, Claire. He had thought that their parents had been her motivator to reject Curtis, to follow Curtis up and down, to join the meetings that prince Nathan held with the others, but from the thick astounded silence that dwelled in the room, it could be safe to say that his sister had been acting on her own, without any external influence. He didn’t know what to think of that. He looked at his mother; she looked more shocked out of her shoes and mind than his father, quite expected since the mother and daughter duo were quite close, since his sister had no mind of hers, except put into place by his mother. As much as he was not happy with his twin, he was happy that for once his mother had no part to play in her recent escapades. “What do you mean…Claire?” Caden asked, pushing himself ahead, his elbow resting on his knees. “What do you mean when you say that Curtis is your mate? When did that happen? When did you find out?
What Claire saw first when she stepped into her father’s room was her parents sitting in the living room, with Clem, their backs hunched, the air filled with pregnant silence, waiting. They were waiting for her. She knew it from the moment she had dropped a note in Clem’s mind that she was on her way home. That he hadn’t bothered with a response, should have been enough to let her know that her twin was still angry with her. But she had held out hope, until she had reached the borders of the pack and he hadn’t been waiting for her. This was very different from the times they had quarrels. She knew, however, that this quarrel was different. She had denied her mate, because of the throne; had gone ahead to push Emma away from the pack; and when Derek still hadn’t chosen her, she had returned to Curtis because he was an Alpha. Would she have returned to him if he wasn’t that? She didn’t know. That was the truth. She didn’t know. She might have gone back to Curtis, even if he wasn’t a
At Wind Winders Pack.“Dad, what is this? What was Zoe doing in my room so early in the morning?” Curtis questioned, a second after he rushed into the dining room where his parents were having breakfast. He had slept in obviously, but he didn’t care. Yesterday’s training had been rigorous after all. He darted his eyes between his mother and father; his mother’s widened eyes told him that she had no idea what he was talking about; quite expected since this turn of event hadn’t been part of their plans. Hence, he trained his eyes on his father; the old man just continued eating his breakfast like he hadn’t spoken. Curtis thought of repeating himself, but thought better of it. He walked up to his father, and took away his plate of food; an act that he wouldn’t have been able to try before; an act that might have spelt his death; but considering his father’s few options of allies, he knew that he had a chance to live. And so, when his father glared at him heatedly, he didn’t quake in hi
“Hey…how are you feeling?” Emma whispered, touching Prescott’s head softly, as she watched him open his eyes for the second time. The first time, she had screamed and had called for the nurse in charge of his treatment, not minding that Adah was with her. Nothing could have dampened her joy. She had just checked on Annabel and Amelia, who although their vitals were stable, was still asleep, yet out of coma. According to the chief nurse, a week was enough for them to wake up now. Then she had checked on Prescott, and only touching him with fondness had elicited the response of his eyes opening. Emma had been overjoyed. “Prescott, can you hear me?” She asked softly, dragging a seat to herself, whilst Adah watched on, not understanding the communication method of the squirrel and Emma. Like the people in the community, she had never seen a talking animal, or rather an animal that communicates as Emma had painted Prescott to be. Her friend who was in the upper echelons of the community
No professor spoke to her, and Emma couldn’t help but wonder why. Had Prince Shiloh ask them to avoid her? Or had professor Brooks’ defeat scared them away from her? Well, if that was the matter, then she believed it was for the greater good. She had no interest in making affiliations after all, so long as they taught her what she wanted to know, and treated her fairly. “So, do you think you can cope?” She heard Adah ask, and turned aside to see her new seat mate. The mischievous glint in the latter’s eyes made her smile, howbeit small. “I believe I can.” She answered, before getting on her feet. She took her bag which Gira had provided that morning and slung the straps across her shoulder. It was time to go home, or rather check on her friends. Classes were done for the day. “Where are you going?” Adah asked her, getting to her feet. As they walked toward the door, a couple of the students swiftly moved, and stood before the door, causing Emma to furrow her eyebrows. But she chose