Chapter 4

EMAL

The detention room darkens as evening settles in, the sky slowly consumed by thick clouds. Hours slip by, and I begin to wonder if everyone has forgotten about me. If I had powers, I’d break through the iron lock securing this room and walk out without a second thought.

Right now, though, I can't reach out to anyone—not even Matilda. I sigh and lean against the cold wall, my gaze locked on the door, waiting. Seconds stretch into minutes, and my hope fades, until I hear hurried footsteps approaching. My heart leaps as the door swings open, revealing my sister. Indeed, she's the only one that treats me well and I have no doubt about it.

"Emal," she calls softly, rushing toward me. She pulls a bottle of water from her bag and hands it to me.

I drink eagerly, till I recover from exhaustion. Without another word, we leave the school and head home. On our way back home, we both remain silent.

"I'm sorry," she finally says, breaking the quiet.

I glance up at her, confused. "Why are you apologizing?"

"I should have realized something was wrong when I didn’t see you all day," she murmurs. "But I only found out through some pups gossiping about it."

I scoff lightly. "Rumors spread faster than anything else."

"What did you say?" she asks, tilting her head.

"Nothing," I reply, shaking my head. "And you don’t need to apologize. This isn’t your fault."

She pats my back reassuringly, but I still feel the weight of today pressing down on me.

"Honestly, I don’t even blame anyone," I mutter. "It’s my fault for not being strong enough, for not being like everyone else. Sometimes, I feel like I’m nothing but a disgrace—to myself, to our family… especially to Dad."

Matilda abruptly stops walking and turns to face me. Her hands settle firmly on my shoulders, her gaze intense.

"Listen to me, Emal, and never forget this," she utters with conviction. "Everything you’re going through right now is temporary. You are not weak, and you are not at fault for anything. The only ones to blame are those who use your situation to hurt you. They are the real monsters."

She pauses, letting her words sink in before continuing.

"And one day, you will be strong. When that time comes, you’ll show them exactly where they belong. Understand?"

Something changes inside me at her words, and I nod, a small smile forming. I hug her tightly, feeling a flicker of confidence reigniting within me.

We resume our walk, picking up the pace as the sky darkens.

The moment we step into the castle, my father’s voice rings out.

"Why are you just getting home?" His gaze lands on my bruises. "And where did all those injuries come from?"

I don’t bother answering. He already knows. News about me travels through the pack faster than a wildfire. Since the pack pups returned home before me, it's a given that dad already knows about the incident.

"Dad, he's exhausted," Matilda interjects. "Let him rest before—"

"Stay out of this!" he snaps, cutting her off. She huffs in frustration and storms off to her room, grumbling under her breath.

"Now," he turns to me, his voice stern. "Explain."

"There’s nothing to explain," I mutter, keeping my tone even. It's not like saying a thing would change my current situation.

He gestures for me to come closer. I hesitate but obey, stepping forward. When he reaches out to touch my bruises, I instinctively pull back.

Does he actually care? Or is this just another act?

Seemingly understanding my hesitation, he pulls his hand away, shifting his gaze elsewhere.

"Does it hurt?"

I don’t answer. I just stare, stunned by the unexpected question.

"Does it hurt?" he repeats.

This time, I shake my head. "No."

He studies me for a moment before saying, "Go to your mother. Tell her to do the needful."

Without another word, I turn and head toward my mother’s quarters. On getting there, I find no one in sight. The room is eerily quiet when I step inside.

"Your Highness?" I call out, but there's no response.

I try again. "Mother?"

No response. I sigh, about to leave, when a door creaks open. From the entrance of the Luna's private chamber, my mother steps out with her usual grace, her expression unreadable.

"What do you want?" Her voice is as cold as ever.

"Father sent me," I say, pointing at my wounds. "He said you should… do the needful."

I move closer, expecting her to check my injuries, but she doesn’t even blink. She just stares at me—unmoving, detached. The silence between us thickens, making my stomach churn uneasily. Did I do something wrong?

I turn my gaze at the floor, fiddling with my thumbs and a resounding slap land on my face. The force leaves me stunned as my skin burns, the sting spreading like wildfire. Before I can even react, another slap lands on the opposite side of my face, harder than the first.

Pain explodes through me.

"Wh…what did I do to deserve this?" I demand, raising my voice in anger.

"You dare raise your voice at me?" she hisses, her eyes flashing with fury.

Tears well up in my eyes, and I quickly blink them away. My hands tremble at my sides.

"Why did you fight Blake?" she demands.

And just like that, everything clicks into place. So, this is what Father meant by "the needful." He didn’t send me here for care, he sent me to be punished.

I feel sick.

My own mother, the one person who should be by my side, sees me as nothing but a burden. The pain of that realization is worse than any slap she could give me. Feeling this way is not new to me, but receiving such indifference from her hurts freshly by the day. Most time, I dread going close to her abode. She's so confusing. One minute, she nice; another minute, she's like a lioness whose cub got killed in its presence.

I lift my gaze to meet hers. There’s no point in defending myself. No matter what I say, she’s already decided I’m in the wrong. Since no one trusts me, they might as well allege me with the crimes of the whole pack criminals.

Being bullied here and there is not something I wish for and it's not my fault for being in the world in the first place. Someone brought me to life after savouring minutes of pleasure. How is it my fault being the way I am?

Giving her a final glance with my teary eyes, I run out of her chamber and out of the castle.

I don’t stop walking. I don’t even know where I’m going.

I just run.

Through the castle halls, past the gates, down the winding paths until I reach the lake. My legs give out, and I drop to my knees at the water’s edge. The cool night air stings my bruises, but I barely feel it.

I wrap my arms around myself and weep.

"It hurts," I whisper. "It hurts so much… but it’s not my fault."

I repeat those words over and over until exhaustion overtakes me, and I finally drift into restless sleep.