Chapter 4: Roles Reversed
1398 Words
GELLER'S POV
I couldn’t sleep.
Maybe it was because I’d slept the entire afternoon, or perhaps the flood of memories this place stirred up. Despite everything, I can’t deny that I missed it here. As much as I hated to admit it, this place still felt like home.
My mind wandered back to dinner earlier. It had been… odd. Especially Emory. She was quiet. Subdued, even. I’d expected her to be the same as always: obnoxious, pestering me, finding new ways to get under my skin. But instead, she’d barely spoken, keeping her head down like she was walking on eggshells.
I should have been relieved.
But it unnerved me, and I couldn’t figure out why.
My wolf was restless too, pacing within me. After hours of tossing and turning, I gave up on sleep and stepped out onto the balcony to get some fresh air. The night was quiet, the faint sounds of the forest reaching me even from this distance. I leaned against the railing, letting the cool air wash over me.
Then something caught my eye. A flicker of movement below.
I squinted into the darkness, and there it was. A bouncing mass of red curls, unmistakable even in the dim light. There was only one person in this entire territory with hair like that.
She was sneaking out.
I watched as she darted behind the mansion, ducking into the shrubs before slipping into the woods. What was the brat up to at this hour?
Is she heading to a party? Or maybe she’s meeting that guy, Drake, she mentioned earlier?
I should have left it alone, but the urge to follow her hit me hard. I didn’t even think about it. My wolf stirred eagerly, pushing me forward, and before I knew it, I was half-shifted, leaping off the balcony.
I kept to the shadows as I trailed her, moving silently through the trees. She didn’t notice me, her attention fixed ahead as she made her way deeper into the woods.
She stopped at the family burial ground. I hung back, hiding among the trees. If she caught me, she’d make it a big deal or probably run crying to Dad about how I was “stalking” her. But I was curious.
She knelt beside a grave. Olivia’s.
I watched her sitting there, her shoulders hunched and shuddering violently. And then I heard it: her crying.
I’d heard Emory cry a hundred times before—loud, dramatic tantrums designed to draw attention. But this… this was different. It was quiet. Painful. Raw.
For a moment, shame washed over me. I was intruding on something deeply private, a part of her I had no right to witness. I turned to leave, but as I stepped back, my foot caught on a log. It snapped under my weight, the sound cutting through the stillness like a crack of thunder.
Emory froze.
I bolted, hoping to escape before she spotted me. But my wolf had other ideas. It surged forward, fighting for dominance, pulling me back toward her. It wanted to go to her. Why? I didn’t understand, but I wrestled with it, struggling to regain control.
And then she ran straight into me.
Her wide eyes stared up at me, and I saw fear there. She tried to hide it, to act brave, but I could see the slight tremble in her hands.
“Geller... what are you doing here?” she asked, her voice shaking.
I growled, fangs bared. “I was out for a run. What is your excuse?”
“I was just heading back,” she stammered.
I grabbed her arm, my claws grazing her skin. Something about the way she trembled at my touch sent a thrill through me, igniting something primal. “That’s not an answer,” I growled.
“I… I was visiting Mom,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. The way she said it made me let go. Besides, she wasn’t even supposed to be out here this late.
“Go,” I barked, my voice harsher than I intended.
She didn’t need to be told twice. She bolted, running so fast she didn’t even look back.
I stood there for a moment, trying to calm my wolf, before mind-linking Dad. "Your brat snuck out. She’s on her way back now."
When I returned to the mansion, the sight that greeted me nearly made me laugh. Dad stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, his expression stern. In front of him stood Emory, head bowed, her big hair falling forward, almost covering her face.
“What were you thinking, sneaking out like that?” Dad’s voice was sharp, laced with worry.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, her voice small.
“Sorry isn’t good enough, Emory. Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? What if something had happened to you?” Dad continued. “If it weren’t for your brother here telling me, I wouldn’t have even known you snuck out this late.”
Emory shot me a glance, her eyes filled with hurt, as if I’d betrayed her. Something about the look stung, but I forced myself to stay cold, keeping my expression unreadable. Her gaze shifted back to Dad as he spoke again, clearly not finished.
“This was the most reckless thing you’ve ever done,” he said with a sigh of frustration.
I leaned against the wall, watching the scene unfold. Emory looked so defeated, so unlike the bratty little crybaby I’d grown up with. For some reason, it didn’t feel as satisfying as I thought it would.
“Go to your room,” Dad finally said, his tone softer now.
She nodded and shuffled away, not even sparing me a glance as she passed. I decided to head to my room as well. She tried to quicken her pace, but my longer strides allowed me to trail behind her effortlessly.
I refused to accept that I was wrong about her. So, I decided to provoke the brat out of her one last time today—though I knew it wouldn’t be the last.
When we were just a few paces apart, and I was sure Dad wouldn’t hear, I spoke. “You really know how to cause a scene, don’t you?”
I saw her stop in her tracks. Her body tensed, but she didn’t turn to face me. I was sure she would snap back, but she didn’t.
“I wasn’t trying to,” she said, her tone flat, almost empty. “I just… didn’t expect I’d get caught.”
She started walking again, but I wasn’t about to let her slip away so easily. "Ironic, isn’t it?" I taunted, stepping closer. "That our roles have been reversed?"
Her shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t respond. I pressed on. "Remember the time when you always told on me? How you always got me in trouble?"
She clenched her fists, but then relaxed them again. So I tried one more time. “You used to get me grounded for the stupidest things,” I added, leaning into the taunt. “Now look at you. It’s almost funny.”
A surge of frustration hit me. But just as I thought she was about to ignore me completely, her voice came out low and steady, though there was something in it—something I couldn’t quite place.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
I nearly lost it. I didn’t want her apology. I wanted her to show her true colors. “You think your apology could fix anything?” I snarled, my voice low and sharp.
Her face remained calm. Unlike earlier in the woods, there was no fear, no anger, no emotion at all. “I’m sorry that after all these years, you haven’t grown up,” she said.
Her blue eyes locked onto mine, scanning my face as if she could read every thought I was trying to hide. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until she spoke.
“You’re right about our roles being reversed,” she said, her voice tight with restraint. “I’m not the one acting like a brat anymore.”
With that, she turned her back and disappeared into her room, leaving me frozen in place. I had nothing left to say. No more jabs to provoke her.
- Writer
