Claiming Emerald: Four Alphas At Her Feet
Chapter 83: Pot, meet Kettle...

Chapter 83: Pot, meet Kettle...

"Welcome back."

Emerald stared at the message on her phone as if it was burning into her vision. Her thumb hovered over the screen, not moving at all.

She had looked at the number five times already. It was unlisted and hidden, with no name or location. Just that creepy two-word greeting. Two simple words, but in this context, they carried a weight heavier than stone

Whoever sent it knew she was here.

Her fingers tightened around the device.

Enough was enough.

She turned slowly toward the window, where the early evening wind rustled the curtain like whispering ghosts. The sky was cloudless, painted in strokes of violet and dying orange.

She took a deep breath, then said clearly, "Ares."

She headed to her contacts app, swiped through her contacts, and tapped on his name. The phone hadn’t even gotten to her ears before the shadows in the far corner of her room shifted.

And there he was... literally.

Casually leaning against the wall like he’d been summoned from her thoughts instead of through the call she was about to make. He wore the same dark clothes, and his face was hard to read, except for a small smile at the corners of his lips.

"You called," Ares said coolly.

Emerald blinked once, still not used to how he just appeared out of thin air. "That fast?" she muttered.

"I felt that you needed me here," he said. "So... here I am."

She narrowed her eyes. "Where have you even been, Ares? You vanish... then reappear. You always know where I am, even when I don’t. How? How are you always here? Like... always."

"I’m drawn to chaos," he said, walking toward her. "And you, my dear, are the perfect storm."

Emerald narrowed her eyes. "That doesn’t answer anything."

"It’s not supposed to," he said, smirking wider.

"I’m asking because this is more than just coincidences," she sighed.

He walked toward her slowly. "Would it really make a difference if I said I always had my eye on you?"

Emerald crossed her arms. "That’s not comforting."

He smirked. "Didn’t say it was meant to be."

She exhaled, brushing past him to hand him her phone. "I got this text a few minutes ago. No sender, no ID."

Ares took the device, glanced at the message, then looked back up at her. "Welcome back, huh?" His lips twitched. "Cryptic. I like it."

"It’s not cute. Someone knew I’d returned. And not just generally. They sent that the second I stepped back into my room. And it’s not just today; I’ve been getting these cryptic messages... I want to know who’s behind it."

Ares glanced at the screen, then looked back at her. "You really do have a knack for attracting trouble."

"Pot," she said dryly, "meet kettle."

"Oh, darling," he purred, handing the phone back. "I am trouble. You’re the flame that keeps lighting it."

Emerald rolled her eyes. "Can you help me or not?"

"I’ll look into it," he said, turning back toward the shadows.

"How?"

But he didn’t answer. He simply walked into the darkness, and like mist in the morning sun, he was gone.

Emerald groaned and dropped onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. "One of these days I’m locking my damn windows."

"We both know that wouldn’t stop him."

Emerald let out a long breath. "He is the worst." But still, she felt a little better knowing he was on it.

—

The next morning, she was at the infirmary again. The scent of salves and herbs still lingered thick in the air.

Darius looked better today, paler than usual, but alert. The nurse nodded as she stepped aside to let Emerald through.

"Back already?" he asked gruffly.

"You sound disappointed," she said, pulling up a chair beside him.

He smiled faintly. "Never."

"I’m not leaving again," she said, sitting. "It was a dumb idea to leave in the first place."

He blinked. "That’s a quick turnaround. What happened to all that getting-to-know-them talk, using them to your advantage?"

"I was dumb," she said flatly. "I thought I could have both. Time away... and trust that the world wouldn’t burn down while I blinked."

He chuckled weakly. "Emerald..."

"You’re bedridden," she cut him off. "You’re literally patched together with bandages and potions. I don’t care if you think you’ve got it under control. You don’t."

Darius gave a long sigh. "You’re just like your mother."

"Then she’d be proud."

He didn’t argue. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment. "I’ve still got people I trust on the council..."

"Do you?" Emerald interrupted. "Because I’m starting to think our little nest might be rotting from the inside."

Darius didn’t have a ready answer.

"I’m calling a council meeting," she said, standing. "Now."

Emerald left the infirmary with her mind racing.

There was no time to wait for recovery or reassurances. The person who orchestrated the rogue ambush had known the territory, the schedule, and the security gaps.

That kind of precision didn’t come from outsiders; it came from within.

She couldn’t afford to be sentimental; she’d learned that the hard way already.

She had fought hard to put an end to Talia’s rebellion in Lucien’s pack, and she wasn’t about to coddle her own pack just because she recognised the threats this time.

This was her home, and she’d rule it like it deserved.

A few notifications buzzed on her phone. She glanced at the screen and saw three messages waiting for her, all from Adrien.

She sighed but didn’t open them. She could already guess the tone, soft concern layered with subtle guilt. He probably wanted to meet and check in.

Emerald locked her phone and shoved it into her coat pocket. She didn’t have time to deal with the ghosts of almost-romance when there were traitors in her halls.

Adrien can wait for now.

—

By noon, the council chamber was full.

Twelve members, each seated in their usual, self-important spots. Some looked at her with clear hostility, while others seemed more cautiously interested.

Perfect.

She stepped up to the raised platform at the front of the room. "Let’s talk about the attack," she began. "How it happened under everyone’s nose, who was responsible, what failed, and why I’m just finding out four days after it happened."

Immediately, an elder stood. "With respect, Alpha... you weren’t even here."

Emerald didn’t flinch. "And that gave someone the perfect window."

Another councilman scoffed. "Some of us think the issue here isn’t about the guards. It’s about leadership." He paused. "You were off... playing house in Midnight Fang, trying to pick a mate or mates while your home was under siege."

The insult rang through the chamber.

A few others chuckled under their breath.

Emerald froze, and her jaw tightened. "What did you just say?" she asked softly.

He faltered. "You weren’t—"

"No," she snapped, stepping forward. "Say it again. I want to hear you accuse me of negligence when I’m the one standing here picking up your mess."

"Exactly... you weren’t here when it all happened, and now you waltz in barking orders like you deserve to be here."

Emerald stepped forward slowly. "Like I deserve?"

"You’re too young, too emotional. You’re distracted."

Emerald slammed her hand on the table hard enough to rattle the ink jars. "I’m your Alpha!"

Silence.

"Whether you like it or not, I’m the rightful Alpha of this pack, and I will not be undermined in my own hall. You don’t get to disrespect me because something unexpected and unfortunate happened in my absence. You don’t get to challenge me because I have mates. You don’t get to undermine me while I’m trying to fix the mess you all failed to handle."

The room was frozen.

She turned, pacing slowly along the length of the table. "If you think for a second I’m not capable, then prove it. Challenge me. Right now."

No one moved.

"Didn’t think so."

Emerald turned back toward the head seat. "Now sit down, shut up, and answer my questions. Who called off the patrol shift that night?"

—

By the end of the meeting, Emerald’s throat was dry and her patience thinner than parchment.

She’d managed to wrangle some discussion about security gaps, weak points in the warding, and patrol logs, but everything was murky. Too many people are pointing fingers, while too few are taking accountability.

If there was a traitor here... they were deep.

"From this day forward," she said, finalising the meeting, "I oversee all security: patrol rotations, supply inventory, guest logs, everything, while Darius is recovering."

The room broke into a murmur.

"Am I understood?"

A chorus of "Yes, Alpha" followed, though some voices were gritted through teeth.

Emerald exited the chamber with her shoulders stiff and her mind racing. She pulled out her phone and began to text Ares.

"Anything?"

She was about to hit send when someone called her name. "Emerald!"

She froze at the sound of her name, turning to see that it was Adrien.