Page 50 of Alpha's Revenge Luna
Emery’s presence in the bed is making me uncomfortable, still and quiet. Yet, it’s like a pulse in the room–insistent and drawing my senses tight. Every time she moves, I jolt awake in a panic, thinking she is trying to escape me.
So when I rise, the day’s duties press into my consciousness before I can even rub the sleep from my eyes.
My first task is clear: Emery must leave the bedroom.
It’s not a request anymore; the refusal to participate in the outside world is growing annoying, and she is becoming clingy.
I worry about her mental health deteriorating.
She barely fights me anymore, which, as calming as that is, is also unnerving because she isn’t her usual self.
Emery stirs beside me, her eyes fluttering open. Instantly, she withdraws to the far side of the bed, a silent refusal to leave the safety of this room. Today, however, that changes.
“Emery,” I start, my voice firm yet gentle, “You need to come with me to my office. There’s a library attached. You can read while I work.” She hesitates, her resistance written in the tense lines of her body. “It isn’t a choice. I won’t accept no for an answer, so get dressed.”
She’s changed, her motions slow and deliberate as she prepares to follow me.
The tension in her shoulders tells me she’s bracing for the world outside these four walls.
Her reluctance weighs on her like chains, but the promise of the library attached to my office seems to coax her forward, a reluctant moth to a flame.
As we stride toward the office, the dining hall comes into view, and a jolt of responsibility hits me. She needs to eat; she hasn’t eaten since dinner yesterday.
Tara, who happens to be crossing the hall, catches my eye.
Tara is setting the tables, and I call her over.
As Tara wanders over Emery’s reaction is immediate and visceral; her hand finds mine, slipping into my grip like she’s seeking refuge.
It’s a gesture of affection, something I haven’t felt from her without the push of the bond, so I find the action odd.
Her fingers are a contradiction, cool yet setting my skin ablaze.
I stare down at our intertwined hands, her action puzzling.
She doesn’t need comfort from Belladonna withdrawals; I was with her all night, so why is she clinging to me now?
I squeeze Emery’s hand trying to get her to acknowledge Tara.
Instead, she steps further behind me, like she is using me as a shield.
“Yes, Alpha?” Tara’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
I catch Emery’s behavior out of the corner of my eye; she’s avoiding Tara’s gaze, her body language showing her discomfort. Something doesn’t add up. She likes Tara or so I thought. Maybe they had a falling out?
“She needs to eat. Watch her for me and bring her to my office once she’s done,” I instruct Tara, firm but fair.
Emery protests, shaking her head with an abruptness that belies her delicate features.
“I’m not hungry,” she claims, but her body betrays her–the subtle hollowness of her cheeks, the faint tremor in her voice.
She hasn’t eaten since dinner last night; she must be starving, and the sound her belly makes proves she is lying.
“Make su re she eats,” I instruct Tara, ignoring Emery’s second attempt to refuse. My growl cuts through the hall, “You will eat!” But Emery resists, her stubbornness a force in its own right.
I growl, the primal sound ripping from my throat, “You. Will. Eat!” I turn to leave, my final words to Tara hanging in the air as a command, before striding toward my office.
With Emery in Tara’s care, my mind is already turning to the other matters at hand.
Kyrio awaits me in my office, his stance conveying both respect and urgency.
“Morning, Alpha,” Kyrio greets as he steps into my office, his posture rigid with the weight of unsaid words.
“Morning,” I mutter, without lifting my gaze from the stack of papers on my desk. After a moment’s pause, I look up. “Did you get hold of Elder Eric from the council?”
Kyrio nods, a frown creasing his forehead. “Yes, but he’s hedging. He needs proof to sway the council, and he’s barely keeping them from knocking down our doors as it is.”
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “What he’s managed to do is stop them from committing suicide by coming here,” I correct him.
Kyrio gives a short, barking laugh in return. “I did point out that much, Alpha. He didn’t respond, but he did say he trusts you’ll deliver the evidence needed.”
My laughter fades as I lean back in my chair. “He’s too scared to clean his own house, afraid of what he might find,” I muse aloud. The council thinks they can intimidate me? They’d be signing their own death warrants.
“What do you want to do?” Kyrio’s question pulls me back.
“We’ll visit Alpha Farren’s old pack and speak with the morgue attendant.”
Kyrio nods.
“We’ll leave at dusk.”
“Elder Eric said there’s been weird activity reported at Emery’s old pack. We need to check that out, too.”
I sigh heavily. We never got our men’s bodies back, so I am not too eager to revisit and I can tell Kyrio isn’t, either.
Kyrio’s gaze sharpens. “Speaking of Emery, how is she holding up?”
I let out a sigh. “She’s fine. I’ll have her join me at pack training after breakfast. Give her some visibility.”
There’s a pause, then Kyrio hesitates. I can practically hear his internal debate. “Out with it!” I snap, already impatient.
“The women... They’ve been giving Tara a hard time for befriending Luna Emery,” he finally admits.
“She told you that?”
Kyrio shakes his head. “No, but I can tell, she’s been off.”
My fingers clench into fists. “I will deal with it!” I growl. The pack needs to learn their place, and quickly.
Kyrio nods, relief evident in his posture. “I thought you should know, Alpha. It’s causing unrest. I think the women are bullying Tara.”
“Anything else?” I ask, already dreading more bad news.
Kyrio nods again, more firmly this time. “I’ll have everything ready to leave for Farren’s at four. And Elder Eric expects your call.”
“Good,” I say, picking up the phone. “Let’s get this over with.”
As the dial tone beeps, Kyrio slips out, leaving me to my task. “Elder Eric?” I speak into the receiver, my voice deceptively calm. “You wanted to talk?”