Chapter 5: They're ashamed of me
1841 Words
Emma's POV:
I run.
My bare feet hit the gravel path. The house glows ahead—warm, familiar. Home.
'I'm home. I'm actually home.'
The door flies open before I reach it.
"Emma?"
Mother's voice. Shocked. Disbelieving.
I crash into her arms.
She stumbles back. Her hands come up slowly, tentatively, like she's touching a ghost.
"Emma? Is that—how—"
"It's me." The words choke out. "It's me, Mom. It's really me."
"Mark!" Her scream pierces the night. "Mark, come here! Now!"
Footsteps thunder inside. Father appears in the doorway. His face goes white.
"Emma?"
My name sounds like a question. Like he can't believe it.
I nod. Tears stream down my face. I can't stop them.
"I'm home. I'm—I came home."
Father moves forward. His hands frame my face. Searching. Examining.
"It's her," he breathes. "Moon Goddess, it's really her."
More footsteps. Caleb rushes out, his eyes wide. Behind him, Nora appears, her expression frozen.
"Emma?" Caleb's voice cracks. "You're—you're alive?"
I can't speak anymore. Can't do anything but sob.
They pull me inside. Into the warmth. Into the light.
We collapse together in the entryway. Father's arms around me. Mother's hands in my hair. Caleb gripping my shoulders like he's afraid I'll disappear.
Even Nora joins, her arms circling my waist.
We cry. All of us. Tangled together on the floor like we used to when I was small.
"We thought—" Mother's voice breaks. "We thought you were dead. We held a memorial. We—oh, my baby. My baby."
Father pulls back. His eyes are red. Raw.
"What happened? Where have you been? Who took you?"
The questions crash over me.
I take a shaky breath. "I was kidnapped. Six months ago. In the meadow."
"We know that part." Caleb's grip tightens. "But after—we searched everywhere. We couldn't find—"
"Rogues sold me." The words taste like poison. "To Red Claw Pack."
The room goes silent.
Mother's face drains of color. Father's hands drop.
"Red Claw?" Father's voice is barely a whisper. "You were in Red Claw territory?"
I nod.
"Who—" Father swallows hard. "Who bought you?"
I meet his eyes. "Lucian Hale."
The name lands like a bomb.
Mother gasps. Caleb's face goes slack. Even Nora makes a small, shocked sound.
Father stands abruptly. Steps back. His hand covers his mouth.
"Lucian Hale." He says it like a curse. "The second son. The—"
He stops. Looks at Mother. Some silent communication passes between them.
"He kept me," I continue. My voice sounds distant. Mechanical. "For six months. As his—" I can't say the word. Can't force it out. "He kept me prisoner."
Mother's sob echoes through the hall.
Father moves to the window. His back rigid.
"Did he—" Caleb starts, then stops. His nostrils flare slightly. His eyes widen.
He can smell it.
They all can.
The scent markers that cling to my skin. Male wolf. Red Claw Pack. The unmistakable smell of—
"Oh, Emma." Mother's voice is small. Broken.
Father turns. His expression is carefully blank.
"You were with him." Not a question. A statement.
Heat floods my face. Shame crashes over me in waves.
"Not by choice." My voice cracks. "Never by choice. He—he forced—"
"We understand." Father cuts me off. Too quickly. Like he can't bear to hear more.
Caleb shifts. His jaw clenched tight.
"I tried to escape," I continue. "Tonight. During some celebration. I ran. He chased me. I—" My throat closes. "I jumped off a cliff."
"You what?" Mother's hand flies to her mouth.
"Someone saved me. A man with silver hair. He brought me home." I look at each of them. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."
Silence stretches.
Father and Caleb exchange another look. Something passes between them. Something I can't read.
"Your wolf," Nora says suddenly. Her voice is careful. Measured. "Where's your wolf? Can't you shift?"
I shake my head. "She's there. Barely. But I can't—I'm too weak. She won't come forward."
Another look. This time between all of them.
'What's that look? Why do they keep looking at each other like that?'
"Emma." Caleb crouches in front of me. His hands on my shoulders. "Listen to me carefully. You can't tell anyone about this."
I blink. "What?"
"About Lucian. About Red Claw. About—" He glances down. Away. "About what happened to you."
The words don't make sense.
"But—but we have to. We have to tell Alpha Nathan. We have to demand justice. Lucian can't just—"
"It's complicated." Father's voice is tight. Controlled. "Red Claw is the most powerful pack on the continent. Lucian is the heir apparent. If we accuse him—"
"Accuse him?" I stand. My legs shake but I force them steady. "I'm not accusing him. I'm stating facts. He kidnapped me. He raped me. He kept me prisoner for six months—"
"Keep your voice down." Caleb's hand clamps over my mouth.
I rip it away. "Why? Why should I keep quiet?"
"Because—" Caleb looks at Father. Desperate. "Because it could destroy us. All of us."
"Caleb's right." Father's tone is final. "If word gets out that you were—that you spent six months with a Red Claw wolf—that you were—" He can't finish the sentence. "Your reputation would be ruined. Our family's reputation would suffer. Caleb's position as future Beta—"
Understanding crashes over me like ice water.
'They're ashamed. They're ashamed of me.'
"This isn't about reputation," I whisper. "This is about what he did to me."
"We know." Mother reaches for me. I step back. "We know, sweetheart. And we're so sorry. But we have to be practical. We have to think about the consequences—"
"The consequences?" The laugh that escapes is sharp. Broken. "The consequence is that Lucian Hale should pay for what he did."
"And he will." Father's voice is placating. "Eventually. We'll figure out a way. But for now, you need to rest. You need to recover. We'll talk to Alpha Nathan tomorrow. Privately. Discreetly. We'll figure out the best course of action."
'The best course of action. Not justice. Not punishment. Just—action.'
Something cold settles in my chest.
"We thought you were dead, Emma." Nora's voice is soft. Almost kind. "We already held your memorial service. Everyone thinks you're gone."
"But I'm not." I look at her. At all of them. "I'm right here."
"We know." Mother stands. Smooths her dress. Her composure returning like a mask sliding into place. "And we're so grateful. So incredibly grateful. But you must be exhausted. Let's get you cleaned up. Get you to bed. Everything will seem clearer in the morning."
She reaches for me. I let her guide me toward the stairs.
"Your room—" Mother stops. Her face flushes. "Oh. I'm—I'm so sorry, Emma. We thought you were dead. We gave Nora your room."
I turn slowly. "My room?"
"I can give it back!" Nora says quickly. Too quickly. "Of course I can. I'll move my things right now—"
"No." The word comes out flat. Empty. "It's fine. I'll take another room."
"The guest rooms are all—" Caleb trails off. Uncomfortable.
"Being renovated," Father finishes. "We were planning to expand. So the only available space is—"
"The servant's quarters." Mother's voice is small. Apologetic. "Just for tonight. Just until we can arrange something better."
I stare at them.
My family. The people who are supposed to protect me. Love me. Fight for me.
They can't even give me my own room back.
"That's fine," I hear myself say. "The servant's room is fine."
Mother looks relieved. "Wonderful. It's clean. Comfortable. You'll barely notice—"
"I'm sure."
I climb the stairs. Each step feels heavier than the last.
At the landing, I pause.
The hallway is different. New paintings on the walls. But not new—familiar. I squint at one.
It's a family portrait. Recent.
Father. Mother. Caleb. Nora.
Four people smiling at the camera.
No space for a fifth.
'They replaced me. They actually replaced me.'
I keep walking. Past my old bedroom. The door is open.
Inside, everything is different. Pink instead of blue. Nora's clothes scattered across my bed. Her perfume heavy in the air.
My desk—the one I used to study at—is covered in her makeup. My bookshelf holds her romance novels instead of my histories.
Even my old stuffed bear—the one I've had since I was six—sits on her dresser. Forgotten.
'She took everything. Everything that was mine.'
"Emma?" Nora appears beside me. "Are you okay?"
I turn. Look at her.
Really look at her.
She's wearing one of my dresses. The blue one I loved. The one that used to fit perfectly.
On her, it's loose in the chest. Tight in the hips.
"That's my dress," I say quietly.
Nora glances down. Has the grace to look embarrassed.
"Oh. I—I thought since you weren't coming back—"
"I understand." I don't. But what else is there to say?
I continue down the hall. To the servant's quarters at the end.
The room is small. Barely bigger than a closet. A single bed. A tiny window.
Nothing like the spacious bedroom I grew up in.
I close the door. Lock it.
The silence is deafening.
I sink onto the bed. It creaks under my weight.
'This isn't right. Something isn't right.'
My family hugged me. Cried with me. Said they were grateful I'm alive.
But their eyes—
Their eyes were calculating. Worried. Almost—
Almost annoyed.
Like my return is an inconvenience. A problem to solve.
'They've moved on. Without me. They built a new life where I don't exist.'
And now I'm back. Disrupting everything.
I pull my knees to my chest.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll see Alpha Nathan.
Tomorrow I'll have to explain everything.
Tomorrow I'll face—
'Evan.'
My fiancé. The man I was supposed to marry.
The man who was supposed to love me. Protect me. Come for me.
He didn't.
'What do I even say to him? How do I look him in the eye after—after everything?'
Lucian's voice echoes in my memory. "If he loved you, he would have already come."
I shake my head. Force the thought away.
'Evan will understand. He'll be furious. He'll demand justice. He'll—'
But what if he doesn't?
What if he looks at me the way my family did? Like I'm damaged. Ruined. Tainted.
What if he can smell Lucian on me and—
My stomach turns.
I curl tighter. Press my face into my knees.
Outside, the house is quiet. My family settling into their beds. In their rooms. Living their lives.
Without me.
I'm home.
But somehow, I've never felt more alone.
- Writer
