Chasing Emory: The Hidden Princess

Chapter 7: Black and Blue

EMORY'S POV

Geller had been provoking me since last night, and I wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove or achieve, but I wasn’t going to let him win. I had to summon every ounce of restraint to avoid indulging his pettiness. His anger towards me and my mom was already too much, and I wasn’t about to give him more reasons to fuel it.

But insulting Drake? That crossed the line. He could call me whatever he wanted, but he wasn’t going to disrespect my friend who had done nothing but be kind to me.

I didn’t realize the depth of Geller’s hatred until he nearly beat me to death. I was already on the ground, but he kept going, not holding back with his punches and kicks. That last blow sent me flying through the air. When my head hit the concrete, I couldn’t fight the darkness that claimed me.

"This is going to hurt, Emory," the doctor warned, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Are you ready?"

I nodded, bracing myself. Not like I had much of a choice.

The pain was instant and excruciating as the doctor relocated my shoulder. Tears streamed down my face involuntarily, and I bit my lip hard to keep from screaming.

"Do you want me to call the Alpha?" the doctor asked, concern lacing his voice.

I shook my head vehemently. "No," I croaked. "He can't know."

"It’s going to take some time before that heals," Drake said.

"I’m sorry, kid," Knox said. "I didn’t know your brother would do something like that. If I had, I wouldn’t have let your fight happen."

"He’s not my brother," I spat, bitterness creeping into my voice. "And it’s not your fault. I really wanted to kick his ass after what he said about Drake."

Drake sighed, shaking his head. "But let’s face it," he said, a wry smirk tugging at his lips. "It’s your ass that got kicked, and he even left a boot print on your chest to prove it."

I glanced at Knox before turning back to Drake. "Can you not tell Dad about this?" I asked, my voice quiet but urgent. "He’s going to be furious with Geller. I can’t handle more tension right now. I just want some peace and quiet."

Knox and Drake nodded silently.

"If that’s what you want," Knox said, though there was hesitation in his voice. "But how are you going to hide this from the Alpha?" He pointed to the sling on my shoulder and the bruises that were beginning to form.

"About that..." I hesitated. "Can you distract him, so I can slip inside? Please?"

Knox frowned, clearly not thrilled with the plan, but after a deep sigh, he relented. "Alright."

I managed a small smile, grateful for their help.

Growing up, Knox, his mate Quinn, Alec, and Leslie were like the big siblings I never had. Whenever Geller was punished with babysitting duties, I got to hang out with them. Unlike Geller, they actually tolerated me. They taught me a lot. Sometimes they even called me out when I was acting spoiled, but I appreciated it. They made sure I didn’t forget my place.

Drake, on the other hand, is my best friend. I tell him everything—the good, the bad, and everything in between. In return, he confides in me too, sharing things with me that even his family doesn't know... at least, not yet.

We even made plans for the future together. After high school, we decided we were both going to attend the same university. We were straight-A students, both determined to excel. Now, in our final year, we had started applying to colleges and universities, eager to take the next step. For me, especially, the thought of leaving couldn't come soon enough, especially with Geller set to take over as Alpha.

Knox drove me home, with Drake coming along for some extra distraction. When we parked in the driveway, Knox got out first and gestured to the jacket hanging from the back of the driver's seat.

"Cover your shoulder if you want this to work," he said.

Drake took the jacket and draped it over my shoulders, hiding the sling and bruises. Once everything was in place, Knox gave the signal. Drake and I quietly slipped inside, careful not to be detected.

"Thank you," I whispered to Knox as I slipped past him. He nodded, his expression serious, and mouthed, "Go."

Drake and I managed to get to my room undetected. Once inside, he stayed for a bit, making sure I was settled and had everything I needed. He even helped me change into clothes that would cover my bruises before heading out.

I sighed as the door clicked shut behind him. I removed the sling and hid it under the bed since I was just going to be lying around. There was no real need for it. All I had to do now was lie low until tomorrow. By then, most of my injuries would have been healed. If only I had my wolf already, the process would’ve been so much quicker, and I wouldn’t have to go through all this trouble to hide it.

Eight more months—that’s all I had to wait. On my eighteenth birthday, I’d finally get my wolf.

The persistent throb in my shoulder pulled me back to the present, forcing me to address it. I retrieved the bottle of pain meds the clinic doctor had given me, popped a pill, and swallowed it dry. Within moments, the ache began to dull, replaced by a soothing drowsiness that tugged at my consciousness.

Before I knew it, I had drifted off.

A faint knocking woke me later, but I was too groggy to respond, much less get up. The rest of the night became a haze. One moment, I was shivering under my covers; the next, I was drenched in sweat, kicking off the blankets. At one point, I thought I saw Nana Bertha enter my room with a tray of soup, but I couldn’t tell if it was real or just a dream.

Sometime deep in the night, I felt someone else’s presence. The soft creak of my door, the nearly imperceptible sound of footsteps approaching my bed. Someone was there. But I was too drowsy, too far gone to open my eyes or care. Whoever it was, I let them stay because, for some reason, I felt safe.

"Mom?" I croaked, my voice hoarse and weak.

But before I could get any response, a wave of calm washed over me, and I was gently lulled back into a dreamless sleep.

I was awakened by sunlight seeping through the curtains, followed by a gentle knock on the door. Nana Bertha entered, carrying a tray of food.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, her voice soft but concerned. "You were burning up last night. You got us all worried, child."

I tried to answer, but my throat felt parched. Noticing my struggle, she placed the tray on the bedside table and pressed her hand to my forehead.

"Good," she said, nodding with relief. "Your fever has already broken."

She handed me a glass of water, waiting patiently as I drank. Once I finished, she set the tray on my lap.

"I'm feeling better, Nana," I said, the water soothing the dryness in my throat. "Thank you."

"Eat up," she said kindly. "You'll need your strength."

With that, she left the room, giving me the privacy to eat in peace.

I took a moment to assess myself. The bruises were faint, almost completely faded. By noon, they will likely be gone entirely. I rotated my shoulder, testing its range of motion. It had healed enough that I could move it properly now without any sharp pain.

I decided to take a shower, planning to stay cooped up in my room and focus on my homework. I didn’t want to bump into Geller. Not yet.

After wrapping myself in a towel, I stepped out of the bathroom and caught sight of myself in the mirror. My eyes immediately landed on the blue bruise on my chest—Geller’s boot print, still glaring. Figures. This was where he hit me the hardest.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and my vision blurred for a moment as I saw an angry Geller storm in. He slammed the door behind him and walked straight toward me.

What now?