Claiming Emerald: Four Alphas At Her Feet
Chapter 59: Stay With Me...

Chapter 59: Stay With Me...

"Here comes the tyrant..."

The words echoed through Emerald’s head like a thunderclap, small but deafening.

She stood frozen. "What... was that?" she murmured, half to herself.

Viola stirred in her mind, teeth bared. "No idea, Em, but we’re sure as hell not imagining it now. Something’s wrong here."

Emerald’s eyes narrowed slightly as she stared down the empty path where the boy had run. Her mind raced, drawing circles around a thousand unspoken questions, none of which made any sense.

Lucien didn’t seem to react. She wasn’t sure if he hadn’t heard or if he had, but decided not to say anything.

Either way, since he wasn’t talking about it, she decided to keep quiet too.

Instead, she said lightly, "I think that’s enough exploring for today. Can we return to the main quarters?"

Lucien nodded without hesitation. "Of course."

They turned back toward the estate, walking in silence. Emerald tried to focus on her breathing, to shake the cold weight sitting between her shoulder blades, but it wasn’t easy.

Because the boy hadn’t been looking at her when he said it.

He’d been staring directly at Lucien.

Tyrant.

And that word hadn’t come out with the innocent cruelty of a child repeating something overheard. No, it had sounded practised... like truth.

What wasn’t Lucian telling her?

—

Lucien disappeared after escorting her back to her room, saying something about duties to attend to. Emerald didn’t protest, didn’t ask why he looked tense.

She just lay in bed, left to her thoughts and the muted ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

The hours crept by.

When her phone rang, she answered almost too quickly.

"Nessa," she said, breathing out like she’d been holding her breath since she returned from the tour.

"Hey, just checking in. You alive, or have you gotten lost in the darkness of the midnight fang?"

"Alive. Mostly. Here’s... I don’t know."

"What do you mean?"

Emerald stood and walked toward the window, lowering her voice. "I mean something’s off here. I don’t know what it is yet, but Lucien’s pack... they’re strange. They look at me like I’m cursed or some kind of disease. And earlier... a little boy called Lucien a tyrant."

"Uhn?" Nessa asked, alarmed.

"I’m sure as hell he didn’t say it like a joke, Ness. He meant it. And Lucien heard it too, he just ignored it."

Nessa exhaled hard. "You have every right to know what the hell is going on. He invited you. That comes with a little thing called transparency."

"I know," Emerald said, flopping into one of the oversized chairs. "I just... can’t shake the feeling something’s seriously off."

"Well," Nessa said more gently, "just be careful, okay?"

"Always."

A pause. Then, "Soooo, did anything spicy happen yet?"

"Oh, gods."

"Like... forehead kisses? Longing glances? Secret garden hand-holding?"

"I’m hanging up now."

"You are my only source of entertainm..."

Click.

Emerald sighed and tossed the phone onto the bed. The tension hadn’t left her shoulders since she woke. Lucien was being too careful, too polite, and that didn’t sit right.

If he’d brought her here for honesty, why did it feel like she was walking blindfolded into a room full of secrets?

She paced for a while, then decided to walk; maybe she could clear her mind.

She grabbed a coat and made her way out of the main wing, turning down a side corridor she hadn’t seen before. There were no guards or servants around, just high-arched ceilings and long carpets that muffled her footsteps.

The estate was massive, far larger than she’d realised. Endless corridors, staircases that curved into towers, and doors that led to rooms decorated in older, darker styles.

There was a weight in the air, one that felt historically haunted, almost.

Emerald turned back at one intersection, only to pause.

Had she come from the left or the right?

She frowned. "Okay... no problem. I’ll just call Lucien."

She pulled out her phone, scrolling to Lucien’s contact. But just as she hit call, a hand grabbed her shoulder and shoved her forward.

Her phone slipped from her grasp and clattered to the floor just outside the doorway.

She whipped around, but it was too late.

The door slammed shut behind her, heavy and ancient. When she turned the knob, it didn’t budge.

"HEY!" she yelled, banging her fists against the door. "What the hell?! OPEN IT!"

No response.

She tried again. The wood was solid... too solid, like it’s reinforced. Her knuckles barely made a dent.

Viola was growling now. "It’s laced. Magical. I can feel it."

Silence.

She pressed her ear against the surface. "Lucien?"

Still nothing.

The air inside the room was stale, thick with dust and a metallic scent. It was a small storage space, with one window and no other doors... just wooden crates and cobwebs.

She moved to the window slit on the far side, but it was too narrow to crawl through, and far too high up to jump without breaking something.

"This isn’t funny," she hissed, more to the invisible enemy than herself.

Then her nose twitched, and she smelled smoke. Her heart raced as a thin curl of black smoke began to seep in from under the door.

She dropped to her knees, hands pressing against the crack in the wood. "No, no, no..."

The smoke thickened in the air, carrying the sharp scent of burning fabric and oil. Suddenly, she spotted fire —bright orange flames creeping under the door, quickly making their way across the floor.

"HELP!" she screamed, pounding against the door with her fists. "Is anyone out there?!"

No response.

The flames moved unnaturally quickly, crawling up the walls like they were drawn to her. She backed away, coughing, her eyes stinging.

"Viola..." she coughed. "We have to shift... get out..."

"No! If we shift here, we’ll take in too much smoke. Just... hold on."

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, trying to crawl toward the far wall. She felt heat pressing against her skin like fingers.

She couldn’t move.

Her vision blurred.

And just before her consciousness slipped away, she heard the door break.

A figure rushed through the smoke, wrapped her arms, and lifted her off the floor.

Lucien.

She could barely hear him over the rush of blood in her ears, but his voice called her name again and again as he carried her out into the corridor.

"Emerald! Emerald, stay with me!"

She clung to consciousness just long enough to notice the cold air outside the room. Then, just before everything went dark, with her head resting against Lucien’s chest, she caught a glimpse of something down the hallway.

It was a tall figure, moving quickly like a shadow, before vanishing around the corner. She didn’t know how, but she felt its gaze even as her vision faded.

And then there was nothing.