Page 42 of Alpha's Revenge Luna
TWO WEEKS LATER
A sinking sense of dread chills the air, settling its icy fingers into the depths of my bones. The room, lit by the tender touch of the early morning sun, feels colder, distant – like Emery, who lies still.
Rubbing my eyes, I stare at the ceiling.
Everything is so still and quiet, apart from Emery’s shallow breathing.
It’s been two weeks, and her silence today is unnerving.
I cautiously yet softly place my hand on her hip.
She pretends to be asleep, a silent protest that speaks volumes without a single word.
A deep sigh escapes me, and the guilt of my choice intensifies with each day that passes with her confined in this room.
My Luna, once a radiant spirit, is now dulled and confined.
Knowing this is necessary does little to lighten the burden of my decision.
I’m disturbed by my turbulent thoughts with a sharp and urgent knock on the door.
Kyrio is punctual as always, bringing breakfast for Emery.
Another meal, likely to be left untouched, I turn to Emery. “Breakfast,” I murmur, but she’s a statue, cold and unmoving. Getting up, I get dressed.
My fingers graze the edge of the leather belt as I buckle it, the final touch to my outfit for today’s meeting.
I glance toward the bed. Emery lays there, a silent form enveloped in the white sea of sheets.
She doesn’t plead to be freed today. She doesn’t look at me with those eyes, a tumultuous mix of betrayal and longing.
I inhale deeply, the air heavy with the unsaid words that stretch between us.
“Soon,” I murmur, the promise hanging in the air. It’s a plea for patience, a vow of change. Emery remains silent and I leave the room; her silence is a companion that follows me, echoing the emptiness I feel without her by my side.
The air is thick with tension as I step into the hall. The palpable unrest of the pack, the undercurrent of protest and dissatisfaction, amplifies with each passing day. Emery is my mate, my other half, yet according to the pack, she’s an outsider, a source of pain and an emblem of loss.
The meeting is abuzz with murmurs as I step in, the collective energy of the pack can be felt in the air. My pack looks at me. As the meeting begins, we speak about the patrols first before moving onto Alpha Farren’s pack.
“We have received no further information on Alpha Farren,” I admit, my voice steady despite the undercurrent of frustration that rages within.
The walls of bureaucracy and silence erected by the council are barriers we are yet to get through. The pack murmurs, a blaring of voices weaving through the air, each word laced with the anxiety that keeps building within my pack.
“We are not isolated,” I assure them, my voice the anchor amidst the uncertainty. “We still have resources, and I am going to another supply haul soon. Kyrio and I have already discussed it, and the rogue women have agreed to help us hunt if needed.”
But among all the usual mundane talk of alliances and survival, there lies another unsaid, a ghost that haunts the fringes of every conversation.
Emery. My mate, their would-be Luna, now a silent ghost in the pack of our existence.
They all whisper, but none dare to ask. They want me to get rid of her or let them punish her.
But they know I won’t allow it, just as I am not going to watch her fade away because she is locked in that room. Her silence is driving me mental.
“I intend to let Emery out,” I declare, the words reverberating through the tense atmosphere. Silence. A hushed pause follows.
“She should be cast out!” Annabelle’s voice pierces the silence, a dagger of accusation and her pain for losing Dimitri. “She will never be my Luna!”
There is an undercurrent of agreement whispering through the ranks as the venom in her words courses through the room. Tara is quick to quell the flames, her voice a soothing balm.
“Annabelle, enough!” she chastises. I am glad to see Tara defend her, she was Emery’s friend, I just hope she still is when I let her out.
“She is my mate,” my voice asserts. “She made a mistake,” I admit, yet the confession does not weaken my stance.
“Her mistake cost us Dimitri, and seven others!” she snarls, her eyes blazing with fury. “What will her release cost us?”
“I understand your anger, Annabelle,” I reply, my voice calm and measured. “But we cannot let anger rule us. We need to be better than that.”
“She’s a liability,” Michael interjects, his voice low and firm. “We can’t afford to have her here.”
“I’ll take full responsibility for her,” I offer, my gaze sweeping over the room. “I will make sure she doesn’t cause any harm to our pack.”
There’s a moment of tense silence as the pack weighs their options, their eyes darting from one another to me and back again.
Finally, Tara speaks up. “I trust you, Dion,” she says. “I know you won’t put our pack in danger.”
A murmuring of agreement ripples through the pack, and I feel a weight lift from my shoulders. It’s not a complete acceptance of Emery, but it’s a start.
“Thank you,” I say with a nod before continuing on with the meeting.
Annabelle lingers behind as the conversation ends and everyone starts to leave the room. She doesn’t say anything; she just stares at me with fierce intensity.
“You’re making a mistake,” she finally says before tu rning and stalking out of the room.
Tara tries to instill some confidence in me as the pack’s disapproval weighs heavily. “They’ll get over it, Dion,” she says. I can only manage a heavy sigh in response.
“I’ll see you both at dinner,” I tell Kyrio and Tara before turning to leave. The excitement of finally letting Emery out of the room mixes with the anxiety of the pack’s reaction. Every step toward our room is heavy but hurried.
I find Emery in bed, still not having touched her breakfast or lunch. Waking her up, she stirs and rolls onto her back, obviously annoyed. The room is silent as I reach out, touching her forehead. It’s warm. “You have a fever.”
Emery offers no words, just rolls back over, giving me the silent treatment.
“Want to come down for dinner?” The shift in her is immediate.
“Really?” Her eyes light up with a mix of hope and excitement. The dark cloud of isolation seems to lift for a moment.
I nod. “Yeah, now go get dressed. You can’t keep wearing these same clothes.” She rushes to change and brush her hair, a renewed energy in her steps.
In the dining hall, tension fills the room. Emery, oblivious, looks around for Tara. I pat my lap, offering her a seat. She doesn’t hesitate and settles down, eager to be out of the room. However, my unease grows; the room is heavy with unsaid words and a feeling of injustice.
When Tara brings out the food, Emery stands up awkwardly.
She’s worried Tara is angry with her. Tara, perceptive as always, rolls her eyes and wraps Emery in a hug.
I overhear Emery’s mumbled apologies just as Annabelle comes in with the rest of the servers.
I watch her, but she does not appear to notice Emery when Kyrio sits next to me and leans over to show me some documents.
“Wait till after dinner, Kyrio,” I tell him, my attention divided.
A sharp scream escapes from Emery’s lips. I instantly turned to see her covered in hot soup, and Annabelle right behind her with a look of utter rage. Annabelle goes to hit her and in a flash, I’m on my feet and grabbing her wrist.
“Touch my Luna and see what happens,” I snarl, my voice harsh and threatening.
Annabelle opens her mouth to retort, but the intensity of my glare stops her short. My grip tightens around her wrists as I press into them with all my strength, and I feel her wrist snap. She whimpers and squirms in pain.
A murderous rage fills my veins as I stare down at her. My voice brimming with a deadly warning, “If you even think about touching her again, I’ll end you without a second thought,” I snarl, and she grips my wrist, tears spilling down her cheeks as her mangled arm bends further in my grip.
“Am I clear?” I ask her and she nods hastily.
Letting go of her, Annabelle scurries away while Tara takes care of the distraught Emery. I turn to check on her, but Emery runs out of the room, escaping me before I have a chance to check her. Fuck! I need to calm things down here first before all hell breaks loose.
Looking around at my pack members, they all eye me warily. I’ve never hurt one of my pack members, more so given where most of them have come from. Nor do I take pleasure in punishing them, but Annabelle went too far and left me no choice. She may be a pack member, but Emery is my mate.
“What?” I snarl angrily, and it takes me a few moments to realize, in my rage, my fangs have split my gums and are showing.
Everyone snaps to attention when my hand bangs on the table, making them jump.
But as I speak to my pack, all I can think about is Emery being in pain.
It takes me and Kyrio a good twenty minutes to calm everyone, only for me to lose my temper once more when a pack member sticks up for Annabelle.
I get they’re hurt and upset, but our pack won’t survive this divide in it with us at each other’s throats.
Becoming impatient, I glance at Kyrio; he gives me a short nod, and I know he will help calm things down, so I start searching for Emery.
Upon returning to the room, I discovered the door was closed, so I turned the handle to find it still locked, and then pull the keys out of my pocket to open it.
The realization dawns on me that she could not be in the room if I had the keys.
In trying to think of where she would go. I head toward the kitchens.
“Emery?” I call out to her, pushing the door open.
Despite the fact the room is empty, I still check the entire place.
Then moving back into the hall, I proceed to Tara’s room, praying to no one in particular that she has gone there.
When I approach that door, I find that it is also locked.
As I approach that door, my stomach sinks, but I do not want to accept the fact she would run again so quickly in mere weeks from the last time.
“She has been locked in that room for weeks, Dion,” my wolf reminds me.
“And the first time she is allowed out, a pack member attacks her,” he adds.
Moving out of the bathroom, I notice a huge commotion in the communal bathroom on the floor above, and I rush upstairs, knowing it must be Emery. Hurrying upstairs, Tara, Kyrio, and a few other pack members stand around.
“Dion?” Kyrio murmurs. I push my way in, fear gripping me, only when I do I am met with the site of Annabelle, lying dead surrounded by a pool of her own blood.