Claiming Emerald: Four Alphas At Her Feet
Chapter 93: Pack Alpha or Cult Leader???

Chapter 93: Pack Alpha or Cult Leader???

"Someone tried to steal Quince’s body."

Emerald’s blood went cold. "Wait, what?" she asked in shock. "What do you mean someone tried to steal the body?"

"We caught them just in time."

"Caught who?"

There was another round of noise and shuffling in the background, and Emerald gripped her phone tighter. "Nessa... what the hell is going on over there? I can hear shouting."

"We’ve got it under control," Nessa said quickly. "Lucian and the others haven’t left yet. Everyone’s still here."

"But what happened? You said someone tried to..."

"Em, just come back," Nessa cut in. "We’ll explain everything, I promise. You need to see it for yourself."

The line went dead.

Emerald slowly set down her phone, her mind racing with thoughts. She tightened her grip on the device just as the other door of the car creaked open.

She didn’t need to look to know who it was.

"Would it be too much to ask for a ride back?" Ares said as he slid in smoothly, pulling the door shut behind him.

Emerald didn’t look at him right away. "No one asked you to follow me."

Ares stretched out one long leg, arm draped casually along the backrest, completely unfazed. "And yet... here I am."

The driver glanced back through the rearview mirror. "Where to, Alpha?"

"Home," Emerald muttered, then leaned her head against the window. "Step on it."

The engine rumbled to life, and they pulled away from the estate.

Ares paused for a moment and then asked, "How did it go in there?"

She gave a small shrug, eyes still fixed on the dark trees blurring past. "How do you think?"

"Any knives thrown?"

She snorted. "Tempting. But no. I didn’t go there to make friends, though."

"Clearly," he drawled. "But I take it you made your point."

"I made it clear," she said in a firm voice. "I told him if this turns into a war, I won’t play nice."

Ares hummed. "Good."

There was a long period of silence between them.

It wasn’t peaceful, though.

It was a loaded kind of silence, the kind that made your skin buzz. Emerald could feel Ares’ presence like a current in the air.

Viola stirred within her, brushing thoughts into her consciousness.

"What if he had come in five minutes earlier? What would you have done if Alia had seen you alone with him instead? What if..."

Emerald shut the thoughts down quickly.

Still, she felt the soft hum of his wolf against hers—that quiet ripple of energy when two powerful beings shared space for too long.

Emerald tapped her fingers against her knee. Then, out of nowhere, she asked, "Do you even have a pack?"

Ares turned his head slowly, as if the question had caught him off guard. "Why?"

"Just curious," she said, not meeting his gaze. "You act like you don’t owe anyone anything. Like you’re not accountable to anyone."

"Because I’m not." He shifted slightly toward her. "That’s how it’s always worked for me."

She raised a brow. "That doesn’t answer the question. Do you have a pack or not?"

"Not in the way you mean."

"You either have one or you don’t."

"That word..." he murmured. "It’s always sounded like a leash."

Emerald frowned. "A leash?"

"A group bound together, serving an Alpha because of bloodline, territory, rank," he said. "It sounds a lot like slavery with better clothes."

Emerald turned to him fully now, intrigued despite herself. "That’s not what a pack is. Or let me say that’s not how I see it. To me, pack means unity. It means strength in numbers."

He smirked faintly. "You’re a ruler. Of course you’d think that."

"You don’t believe in packs?"

"I believe in loyalty," he said. "But only when it’s earned. Not demanded."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Sounds like semantics."

"Hear me out for a second." His voice was low and measured. "Your idea of a pack, the pack members follow orders. They fight wars that aren’t theirs. They bleed on command. Tell me how that’s different."

"Because they choose to follow," Emerald said, frowning deeper. "They believe in something. In someone."

He turned to face her more fully. "Then I suppose I do have people who follow me."

"And they do it willingly?" she asked, arching a brow.

He gave a slow nod. "They follow because I am worthy. Not because of a title. Not because of rules carved in stone. I protect what’s mine, and I give them a reason to stay."

"So... a cult leader," she muttered dryly.

Ares laughed under his breath. "Call it whatever you like."

Emerald shook her head but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. "You’re so strange."

"You’re the one asking strange questions."

She leaned her head back against the seat. "Maybe I just want to understand who you are. Beyond the growling and the glares."

Ares didn’t respond at first.

Then he moved, and when she glanced over, he was much closer to her. His body was turned toward hers, and his eyes were darker now, almost like they held a deeper meaning. It felt like there was something ancient behind that gaze.

Something tired.

"You really want to know who I am?" he asked softly.

Emerald swallowed. "Yes."

He looked at her, as if trying to figure out what was real.

In that instant, she saw the real him... not the Alpha, not the tough guy, not the warrior. She saw a glimpse of something deep within, maybe grief or anger that had been buried for too long.

But just as quickly, that glimpse vanished, replaced by the usual confident mask he always wore. His hand came up slowly, fingers brushing her waist, warm through the fabric of her coat.

His lips hovered near her neck, then shifted closer to her ear.

His breath was hot when he whispered, "What else would you like to know?"

Emerald froze.

Her breath hitched in her throat, caught somewhere between surprise and anticipation. Viola stirred within her again, not with fear, but with a dangerous sort of curiosity.

Her lips parted. "We’re not alone."

"I know," Ares murmured, brushing her hair back gently. "Is that the only hindrance?"

Emerald’s cheeks flamed, and she turned her head away, scoffing under her breath. "You’re unbelievable."

"I try."

"And I know you’re just messing with me," she muttered.

"Maybe," he whispered back. "Maybe not."

He kept his hand there for a moment longer before pulling away, his warmth fading like the receding tide.

Her spine stiffened, heart thudding wildly in her chest.

Thank the stars, the car slowed down and came to a halt, interrupting whatever the moment had nearly turned into.

Emerald exhaled, grateful for the disruption, and Ares pulled back fully.

They stepped outside into the cool night air, facing the estate. Lights were still on in the upper floors, and the guards at the gates nodded as they walked by.

Inside, Lucian was waiting near the entrance, arms crossed. "Good. You’re back."

Emerald’s heels clicked quickly over the marble. "Where’s Nessa?"

He gestured down the hall. "She’s waiting in the East Wing."

Emerald walked swiftly, Ares and Lucian flanking her on both sides. They moved through the halls like a wave of tension.

Nessa stood outside one of the rooms, her body tense and stiff.

"What happened?" Emerald asked as she approached.

Nessa opened the door without a word. "It’s better if I show you."

They stepped into the dim room.

A single bulb hung from the ceiling, casting long shadows over the floor.

And there, in the centre of the room, bound to the floor in silver cuffs and chains, was a man.

He had no shirt on, and his torso was bleeding and bruised. One eye was swollen shut. His chest rose and fell in jagged heaves. The floor around him was stained with red.

Emerald’s gaze hardened. "What the hell?"