Enslaved To The Alphas-Chapter 237: Emira’s Worry
Even though Emira was weak and could barely get up, her mind was working faster than anything. Her body felt drained due to the blood loss, but her thoughts kept racing, refusing to slow down.
She had already found a way to help the Dark master return to his body and had offered to be his disciple. From the beginning, her intention had been simple and straightforward. She would help him regain what he had lost, learn the dark arts directly from him, and at the same time keep an eye on him so he did not carry out the "disaster" the old prophecies spoke of which had ultimately caused the master to be trapped without a body.
That would have been the perfect way to show her father the truth of the prophecies. That she and her older sisters before her who had been ruthlessly murdered by their father had never been the Dark master’s bride while also fulfilling his fear of his bloodline being responsible for the return of the Dark Master.
That was why she had offered the piece of the Void Stone and asked the Dark Master to accept her as his disciple. Everything fit perfectly if he agreed. A disciple could not be married, claimed, or coveted by the master- this was a rule carved in stone for both light and dark witch sects.
She had counted on that rule. She had relied on it. If she stood as his disciple, she would be bound to him in a way that helped him and protected her at the same time. She had been so sure he would accept. After all, it was a win–win situation for him. He would get his body back, gain the Void Stone, and gain a disciple who was willing to obey him as long as the contract stayed in place.
And yet... now...
Her hand moved to the spot near her neck where the claw marks had been. The marks that had bound her to Zen, Kael and Lance... They had already faded... Emira shuddered at the smooth skin there and tears fell from her eyes...
Her bond had been broken. Gone were the marks...that Zen, Lance and Kael had left on her.
Her fingers kept moving over the empty skin as if she might feel something if she tried hard enough, but there was nothing. The smoothness under her touch felt colder than any wound she’d ever taken. It felt like a door had been shut on her without warning, leaving her on the outside with no way back in.
A broken sound escaped her throat before she could hold it back, and something inside her slipped as tears fell from her eyes...
It felt like losing something she had never meant to care about.
Slowly, Emira turned onto her side and curled into herself, her arms wrapping around her stomach as if she could keep the pain from spilling out. She pressed her forehead against the pillow, trying to breathe, trying not to fall apart all at once. Her eyes burned, and she forced them shut, swallowing hard against the rising pressure in her chest.
She didn’t want to cry. She didn’t. She whispered to herself that the bond had only ever been a shield. A tool. A way to survive long enough to reach this place. A way to get close enough to Councilman Aldren and Dark master to fulfil her revenge. She repeated those reasons over and over, desperate for them to hold her together.
But the words felt thin now. Weak. Like they couldn’t cover the truth. Because none of that stopped the way her heart hurt.
And no matter how much she tried to steady herself... no matter how fiercely she clung to her purpose... It didn’t stop the feeling of being shattered on the inside.
She changed tactics and then tried to assure her that it was for the better. So what if she had fallen in love with them? They would only ever bind themselves to their mate. And that feeling would have been worst for her. She would have to watch the men she loved mate with someone else...
Emira stopped herself then. Love? When had she started thinking of this feeling? But the shattered feeling inside her and the way she felt that she might not be able to live without them, made her realize the truth. That she had long fallen in love with them. It was why, after the initial time when she had thought of breaking the bond, it had never reoccurred to her.
She wondered if Zen was alright.
The thought slipped in without warning, cutting through the pain like a sudden spark in the dark. For a moment, it pushed her grief aside.
If Zen knew he had been subjected to a curse, he would definitely not be happy about it. He would be furious with himself, calling himself a fool for letting his guard down. He’d even be angry for giving everyone the ammunition to tease him.
The idea made her chest tighten. It almost felt like she could hear him saying it, hear the frustration in his voice. He hated feeling vulnerable and being tricked without catching onto it. Even as these thoughts swirled in her head, her tears continued to fall, running down her cheeks and falling onto her pillow.
But through that storm of emotions, something stirred inside her.
Her wolf.
It felt faint at first, like a warm breath brushing against her thoughts. Then it grew stronger, moving closer to the surface as if trying to push through the haze of pain and confusion.
Emira didn’t understand it. She didn’t have the strength to question it either. She simply let the presence settle, let it wrap around her like a thin blanket around a shaking body. It didn’t stop the pain, but it made her feel less like she was crumbling alone.
What nobody seemed to realize—not even Emira herself—was how much her wolf had changed during everything that had happened. In the chaos of Zen’s poisoning, in the panic, in the fight for his life, her wolf’s power had surged. It had grown at a speed no one could have predicted, even making Emira be able to shift partially in her haste to get to Zen.
