Ten

Livia's POV 

The next morning, I woke up with mixed feelings as I sat on my bed staring through the windows.

The maids were supposed to take Emerald to school, but I decided to do it. I drove her to school after she was dressed up and prepared by the maids.

“Mommy, you are coming to pick me up, right?” Emerald asked as soon as I dropped by and was trying to say goodbye to her.

“Of course I am, Emerald,” I said softly, with a smile, brushing her curls back. “You know I always do.”

“You promise, mommy?” Emerald asked with her tiny voice.

“I promise,” I answered with a faint smile.

“You look sad,” Emerald said, touching my face as I bent for her.

“I’m not sad, baby,” I said, trying to avoid her touch.

“You are mom.” Emerald insist 

“Then I will smile for you,” I said, smiling faintly at her.

“Better,” Emerald said with a grin on her face.

“Better?” I asked, rolling my eyes at her.

“Yes, Mom. Now kiss.” Emerald requested almost like a command.

I laughed faintly. “Demanding little wolf,” I said, pitching her nose playfully.

“I’m not little. I’m five.” Emerald corrected with a fringed face.

“Forgive me, big wolf,” I said, raising my hands in defeat.

She giggled. “Bye, Mommy,” Emerald said, trying to rush to her class as she saw a teacher coming towards her already.

“Bye, Emerald. Be good.” I said, waving her off.

“I’m always good, Mom,” she said with a smirk on her face.

“That’s debatable,” I said, smiling.

“Mommy!” Emerald called, still trying to protest.

“Go inside before I change my mind,” I shouted softly as I beckoned to her to go to her class.

“I love you!” her tiny voice echoes through the walkway.

“I love you more,” I replied, smiling to myself as I stared at her running to her class.

I waited until she disappeared through the school gates before exhaling.

“You okay, ma’am?” the guard asked, looking at me.

“I’m fine.”

“You look tense.” He said with concern on his face.

“I said I’m fine,” I replied with my voice raised.

I got into my car, shut the door, and the silence swallowed me whole.

“Why does he look at me like that?” I whispered to myself.

Hayden’s eyes flashed in my mind: suspicion, control, and something darker.

“It’s normal,” I muttered. “After everything… It’s normal.”

My phone buzzed immediately, shaking me out of my thoughts, but I ignored it.

It buzzed again and again for the umpteenth time.

“What now?” I hissed, snatching it up.

One notification, another one, and then a flood.

“Have you heard?” the message reads.

“He’s going to be a father!”

“Bella is pregnant!”

I froze as I read through the messages. “No,” I muttered to myself.

My chest tightened. “No, no, no…”

Another message.

“They look so happy.”

“They don’t deserve to be happy,” I whispered silently to myself.

The steering wheel creaked under my grip.

“He doesn’t deserve to be a father.” My throat burned.

“He doesn’t deserve that joy… after what he did to me.” I swallowed hard.

“I don’t care.” My voice broke.

“I don’t care,” I said, trying to overlook it, but I actually did care, and it hurt really hard.

I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat.

“I won’t go home,” I muttered to myself, feeling destabilized already.

The thought of facing Hayden’s unreadable gaze felt suffocating; it won't do me good. I'm not ready for any drama at the moment.

“I need air. Fresh air to cool my head,” I muttered loudly to myself.

And then I remembered Augusta’s voice at the gathering.

“You should see the west garden, Livia. It’s peaceful and healing,” she had suggested that day while we were having little chats before the unwanted incident occurred. I was accused by Bella of stealing the relics.

Healing, the words repeated in my head.

“I need that,” I said to myself as I started the car.

I turned the wheel and drove.

The gates opened silently as soon as I got there. The west garden stretched like a secret paradise.

Rows of roses, lilies, and lavender filled my eyes.

The scent alone wrapped around me like a lullaby.

“Beautiful,” I whispered to myself, amazed by what I was seeing.

No guards, no maids, no whispers but just wind.

I immediately stepped out of my car as I took a step further.

I walked deeper until the world faded. I just wanted to be by myself all alone.

“This part is reserved,” I murmured to myself. “No one comes here.”

I kicked off my heels and stepped onto the soft grass.

“For once… let me breathe,” I muttered.

I lay down among the flowers. The sky stretched endlessly above me.

“I don’t want to think. I just want to free my mind.”

The breeze brushed my face.

“I don’t want to remember.” I closed my eyes.

“Just for a moment.”

My worries began to dissolve.

The ache softened, and the anger dulled.

“I could stay here forever,” I whispered silently.

A voice shattered the calm. “Look at you.”

My eyes snapped open immediately as I stood up to look around and see where that voice came from.

A man stood a few feet away. He was unsteady, bottle in hand and eyes bloodshot.

“Who are you?” I asked sharply, trying not to show any atom of fear.

“Me?” He laughed. “I should be asking you that,” he said, pointing his finger at me. “This section is reserved.”

“Reserved?” I asked, and he scoffed. 

“For who?” I demanded.

“Yes. It's reserved for royalty,” he muttered.

“Are you royalty?” I asked, looking at him deeply.

“That’s none of your concern,” he retorted.

He staggered closer. “You look familiar.”

“I don’t know you,” I said, trying to shift away from him.

“Oh, but I know you,” he said, trying to get his face close to me.

My pulse quickened.

“You are mistaken.” I defended.

“No.” His smile twisted. “You are that girl,” he still insisted.

“I said you are mistaken,” I said, raising my voice at him.

“The slave,” he muttered, and my breath caught.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied coldly.

“Everyone talked about you once,” I said, smiling at me.

“Stop,” I muttered.

“The slave who rose too high,” he said with a smirk.

“Stop,” I repeated, getting fed up already.

“The girl who forgot where she came from.”

The word hit me so hard. Who could this man be? Why is he saying all these? And where does he know me from?

These thoughts begin running in my head.

He laughed, loud and ugly.

“Does your husband know?” he slurred. “Does he know what you used to be?” he asked, looking at me for an answer.

“I owe you no explanation,” I said, trying to walk away from him.

“You used to kneel, didn’t you?” he asked, and my legs stopped moving at that moment.

My hands trembled.

“You used to beg,” he continued.

“Enough,” I shouted, raising my voice at him.

“Now you walk around like you’re untouchable,” he mocked.

“I said enough.”

“You’ll always be a slave,” he laughed.

 

“I’m leaving,” I said, trying to take more steps.

“Oh no,” he said, stepping into my path.

“Move from my way,” I said angrily.

“You think you can just walk away from your past?” he mocked, laughing slowly.

“Yes,” I replied.

“You think you can erase it?” I enquired.

“I don’t need to answer to you.”

“You still smell like it.”

My wolf stirred.

“Move,” I commanded.

“Or what?” He smirked.

“Or I’ll make you.” I threatened.

He laughed again.

“Fiery. I like that.”

I turned to walk around him.

And then his hand shot out.

He grabbed my wrist hard.

“Let go,” I shouted, trying to break free.

His grip tightened. Pain shot up my arm.

“You’re hurting me.” I cried out.

“Did it hurt when they owned you?” he demanded.

“Let go!” I pleaded.

“Did it hurt when you were nothing?”

 He asked with fury in his voice.

“I am nothing!” I corrected.

I tried to pull away, but he yanked me closer.

The scent of alcohol burned my nose.

“Let me go,” I said through clenched teeth.

“You think you’re better now?” He asked as his eyes darkened.