CHAPTER SEVEN

Emilia 

I didn't mean to hear it.

The door to Xavier's office wasn't shut properly. I had only come by because I'd heard voices, but then — his voice. Low. cold. 

“I did it to protect her. Lorenzo didn't deserve her.” 

My blood turned to ice.

“You think I care what he meant to Emilia?” Xavier scoffed, laughing under his breath. “That mutt was in the way. Now, she's free.” 

The floor shifted under my feet. Lorenzo. My mate. The love of my life was gone. Dead. Murdered.

By him.

My lungs seized. I pressed a hand to my mouth, stumbling backward. My vision blurred. My body trembled so violently I had to hold onto the wall to keep from collapsing. My skin was clammy. My heart — a wild thing, pounding like it was trying to tear itself out of my chest. 

Xavier… my stepbrother. My protector. My confidant. The one who held me after our parents died. The one who braided my hair when I was too numb to do it myself. 

The devil had been right beside me all along. 

My grief gave way to a sharp, burning rage. It surged up like wildfire, furious and blinding. My pulse was a drumbeat in my ears as I stormed through the hallway, each step heavier than the last. 

I threw the door open.

He looked up, started. “Emilia?”

I met his eyes, my fury barely contained. “Repeated what you just said.”

He stood, instantly tense. “What are you talking about? You look pale. Some sit —”

“Don't lie to me!” I screamed. “I heard you. I heard you, Xavier!” 

His eyes flickered toward the doorway then back at me. Still trying to stay calm. Still wearing that fucking mask. “You're confused. You've been grieving. You're not well —”

“Stop it!” My voice cracked like thunder. “You said Lorenzo had to die. You killed him!”

He didn't deny it.

He just… exhaled. Then nodded. “He was in the way. He didn't deserve you.”

My chest caved in.

“You loved him,” he continued softly, stepping around the desk. “But he didn't love you the way I do.” 

A sharp, broken noise escaped me. My nails dug into my palms. “You… You monster!” 

His expression twisted. “I did it for us, Emilia. Don't you get it? I've always loved you!”

I stumbled back, disgust curling through me like bile. “No. No, you lied. You said you were my brother! That you'd protect me —”

“I did! From people who didn't deserve you. From mates who were too weak to keep you safe!”

“You're not my protector,” I hissed. “You're a devil.” 

I grabbed the knife from the desk. He saw it, raised both hands in a pathetic feature of peace. “Emilia, don't do anything rash.” 

“Rash?!” My eyes burned. “No, what was rash was trusting you. Letting you into my heart. Believing you were good.” 

He inched closer. “You don't understand —”

“I was naive.” My voice shook. “You pretended to be a brother. A friend. You were neither. You were always just a shadow, waiting to take what you wanted.” 

“Put it down,” he said again, but his voice wasn't calm anymore. It was tense. Darker. 

I raised the blade. “You don't get to tell me what to do anymore.” 

He lunged, grabbing my wrist. 

We struggled. Furniture scraped, papers flew. I kicked at him, screamed, fought like a woman on fire. The knife was between us — gleaming, shaking. He tried to wrestle it away, but I wouldn't let go.

“You're not going to have me,” I growled through clenched teeth.

And then his expression shifted.

He stopped pretending.

His face twisted with something feral, something raw.

“Oh, Emilia,” he sneered, “I will have you. One way or another. If I have to chain you up, lock you away until you understand… I will do it. Because you're mine.” 

I froze.

“You think you have a choice?” He whispered, leaning in. “You don't! I've given you tears and you spit in my face so now, I'm done pretending.” 

My heart cracked open with rage. 

I screamed and the knife found his side.

He gasped, staggering back. Blood bloomed beneath his shirt. He stared at me like he couldn't believe I'd done it. 

“You will never have me,” Ism said, and this time my voice was steel. 

And then I turned the blade on myself.

“Emilia, no!” 

Too late.

It sank deep into my belly. My knees buckled. He caught me, as if that made any of this right. As if cradling me would undo what he'd done.

“I'm sorry,” he choked. “Please… I didn't mean.” 

I looked up at him, the room spinning. “We'll die together then but I'll die knowing I was never yours.”

He screamed for help, but it was distant now. Like it was happening at the end of a tunnel.

My body grew cold. My mind drifted.

I remembered Lorenzo. His laugh. The day he slipped the sapphire ring on my finger, whispering, “You're stuck with me now.”

I remembered my mother's perfume. The way she used to tuck dried moon leaves into my pillow and whisper stories of the Moon Goddess under the stars.

I remembered love. Real love. Not this. 

Not Xavier.

Met eyes fluttered shut.

And in the dark, I prayed. 

“Moon Goddess… if you're listening… Give me another chance. Let me make it right. Let me come back.”

Only I didn't.

Everything went still.

And I died.

But —

Light.

My lungs filled with air in a sudden, choking gasp. My eyes flew open.

I wasn't bleeding. 

I wasn't dying.

I was … alive?

I sat up, my heart racing.

The bed beneath me was soft, familiar. The walls were pale, decorated with lavender and silver ribbons. There were candles on the windowsill.

And sitting on the edge of my bed and smiling was him;

Xavier.

“Happy 18th birthday, Emilia.” He said softly.

I froze.