CHAPTER SEVEN

Shadows of Memory

Emerald lay curled in the large bed, her breathing soft and even as she dropped into sleep. She hadn't anticipated Joel would simply walk away, leaving her alone with an order to sleep. For a moment, she almost didn't believe it herself, and in that edge between fear and exhaustion, she finally fell asleep.

On the other side of the estate, Joel sat in his study; the only sound heard was the periodic crackling of the fire in the fireplace. His eyes were as cold as ice and held onto whatever was in front of them, fixed to the ancient texts and documents lying strewn across his desk. As his eyes traveled from one piece of paper to another, his mind wandered miles away, drifting through scheming and strategizing and plotting the next move.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. "Enter," he called out low, commanding.

The door creaked open, and a young man stepped inside, clad in black, posture straight, respectful. He walked to him and bowed his head, silently acknowledging authority.

"It's done," the man said, his voice quick and more formal. "Everything has been investigated, as you requested." He handed a sealed envelope to Joel with a gloved hand.

Joel took the documents in complete silence, breaking the seal and scanning through the contents. His eyes narrowed as he read, absorbing each detail. His jaw clenched with a subtlety that was almost not noticeable. The report had confirmed his suspicions, something dark and deceitful had been brewing right under his nose.

"Is it taken care of?" Joel asked, his tone lethal calm, even the hardened soldier visibly hesitated.

"Yes, Alpha," the man replied. "The target was hiding an army secret force he'd been building in the darkness for years. It would appear he planned to strike against you when he felt his forces were sufficient." A pause, and he chose his words with care. "But we were thorough, and there are none left who would speak against you."

One of Joel's eyebrows rose before he allowed a slow, dangerous smile to slide onto his face. The temerity of small pack Alphas was almost unbelievable. They'd grown bold, it seemed, even arrogant enough to think they had any right to challenge him because he hadn't unleashed his full strength. Fools.

"So, he thought to build a secret army, build his strength, and take me down?" Joel's voice was soft, almost amused, but every word carried in it an edge of sharpened steel.

"Yes, Alpha. But if I may, many of them are trained wolves. If they are put under good control, they should be very useful for us."

Joel considered the suggestion, his mind calculating, weighing the possibility. Why waste trained wolves when they could serve him instead? He gave a curt nod of approval.

"Take control of those wolves. Absorb them into our ranks, they will learn soon enough where their loyalty is to be given." His voice was as steel, the command final.

The man bowed low. "Yes, Alpha. It will be done.”

At Joel's nod, the soldier retreated, leaving Joel once more to his solitude with the report. His gloved finger traced the lines of text across the page, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. They'd learn their place. One and all.

But the ephemeral taste of triumph soon numbed. Joel leaned back in his chair, releasing a deep sigh. His hand closed more tightly over the edge of the paper as his eyes clouded. His mind began to wander, meandering through his thoughts until it reached a particular memory from years past.

He remembered the smile she had worn that day, Lena looking upwards at him with a face alight with hope, her eyes heavy with dreams she had feared telling anyone else.

"Joel," she had whispered slowly, tentatively, "Is there ever gonna be a time where we can just leave all this behind? It's just us, and we can travel and see the world?"

He could still recall his own words, spoken without afterthought. "Lena, I have responsibilities. I can't waste time wandering the world aimlessly."

He hadn't looked at her then, too caught up in his duties, in the weight of his role as Alpha. He hadn't seen how her expression had fallen, how she'd forced a small, sad smile before nodding in quiet acceptance. He had known that smile, and yet he had brushed it aside, convincing himself that she would understand, that she would accept the life he chose. Yet the memory was there to haunt him and often at a time when he least expected it.

“Lena.” Her name had weighed his lips, a burden he could never let go of, a guilt that refused to stale. He knew her so well, he understood what she wanted, her dreams, yet he had strewn it away for the sake of his duty. And now. she was gone.

Joel rose from his chair as the weight pressed down on him until he could hardly breathe. He left the study, walked down the shadowed corridors, and slowly made his way up to his room. There, on the bed, lay Emerald curled up, breathing softly in her sleep, her face serene in the pale moonlight filtering through the curtains.

He froze, the chill in his eyes that had become customary stuttering as he drank in the vision of her, so small, so helpless. There was something almost. recognizable in the way she slept, a haunting reminder of how Lena had looked, so peaceful and trusting whenever they had shared a quiet moment.

He was leaning closer, his hand reaching out to trace the lines of her face without even realizing it, being very careful not to stir her. Her skin was soft, her features delicate. She looked almost like a child, so innocent and untouched by the harsh realities of his world. A pang of guilt twisted within him, a feeling he despised yet couldn't shake.

“Lena," he whispered, his voice barely audible, the name slipping from his lips laced with sorrow. The name came out raw, every syllable an ache of memory, a reminder of what he'd lost and the promises he'd broken.

He lingered, his hand hovering above Emerald's face, the memories clinging to him like shadows he couldn't escape. For a moment, he allowed himself this small forbidden indulgence to imagine that Lena was still with him, that he had somehow been granted another chance.

Reality was never obliging, and he knew full well that Lena was truly lost to him. Emerald was not her, would never be her. She was no more than a chess piece in his world, a stand-in for the dreams he'd discarded, a substitute for a role she'd never opted to play.

The pain surged, sharp and relentless, and he pulled his hand back, staggering slightly as he backed away from the bed. He looked at her once more, but it was an empty expression, devoid of the vulnerability he had allowed to slip through only a moment before. Turning on his heel, he exited the room.

As the door closed behind him, Emerald opened her eyes, her heart aching with emotions that barely had names. She had heard him mumbling the name, a name spoken so quietly and full of longing and regret. She didn't know what it meant, but something in her chest was heavy; some peculiar sadness stirred her soul.

A single tear escaped down her cheek, silently and unseen in the dark. She touched her face, feeling its coldness as she whispered low to herself, almost as if in response to the name he'd spoken, her voice so full of a sorrow that felt older than herself.

"I am not…

The words trailed off, lost in the quiet, but the ache remained, lingering long after the silence settled around her once more.