Chapter 4

Emily

The first thing I felt was pain.

It was deep, spreading through my body like fire that refused to burn out. My chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and for a moment, I was certain this was hell. Maybe this was what it felt like to be punished for all the wrongs I’d done, for staying too long where I was never truly loved.

I blinked. Once. Twice. Light pierced brightly through my lashes. I squinted, realizing that hell probably shouldn’t smell like herbs and burning incense. My throat was dry, the taste of metal thick in my mouth. Slowly, I tried to move, but the moment I shifted, a sharp pain shot through my leg. I winced and collapsed back onto the bed.

Wait, bed?

I wasn’t supposed to be in a bed. I was supposed to be dead.

Before I could make sense of anything, a voice broke through the haze.

“Can you hear me?”

It was deep, gentle, male. For a second, I thought it was an angels  voice, and my heart skipped painfully. But when I turned my head, blinking through the blur, I saw a man in healer’s robes standing beside me. Behind him was an old woman, her hand hovering near my arm.

“Where am I?” My voice cracked, unfamiliar even to my own ears.

“Oh dear,” the woman said softly. “You’re in Westwood. A small town east of the Silverlake border. Please, calm down.”

Her tone was soothing, but I couldn’t calm down. The room spun around me. Strange faces. The scent of herbs. None of it made sense.

“How did I get here?” I asked, panic clawing up my throat. “What happened? Why does my leg hurt? Why am I..”

The healer raised his hand gently. “Please, miss, breathe. You were found unconscious by the riverbank. A woman named Miriam brought you here, and luckily you were alive as at the time you were rushed in.”

Alive.

That word felt foreign. My mind reeled, replaying the screech of tires, the sound of glass shattering. My last memory was of darkness, and a woman’s claws stabbing into me.

I pressed my fingers to my temple, trying to recall more, but everything was foggy, slipping away like water through my hands.

“I don’t understand,” I whispered.

“You were attacked,” the healer said, lowering his gaze. “There was poison in your wounds, likely from a wereclaw. It’s a miracle you survived.”

Dead. Someone wanted me dead?

“Who?” I blurted out. “Who tried to kill me?”

The healer sighed. “We don’t know. When you were brought in, you had no identification, nothing but the torn remains of a gown. You’d already lost a lot of blood. We thought you wouldn’t make it through the night.”

I stared at my hands, thin, trembling, covered in faded bandages. “I don’t remember…” I whispered. “I don’t even remember my name.”

The healer reached out, squeezing my palm. “That’s normal, dear. You’ve been through trauma. Sometimes the mind protects itself by forgetting. But don’t worry, with time you will remember everything.”

Just when I thought things couldn’t get more confusing, the healer smiled gently. “There’s one more thing, and I think it’s good news.”

He placed a hand near my stomach, and my breath caught. “The child in your womb is still alive.”

My eyes widened. “What?” I stuttered. “No, that’s not possible, how—”

My mind went blank. “Baby?” I stammered.

“Yes,” he said. “You’re pregnant. About six weeks along.”

My whole body went still.

My breath came fast, shallow. “That can’t be right. I...”

I didn’t even know who I was. How could I be pregnant?

He patted my shoulder before stepping out of the room, leaving me staring at the empty room in confusion.

I pressed a trembling hand to my stomach. Tears blurred my vision again.

Who was I? Who had I been? Who was the father of this child?

And why had someone tried to kill me?

FIVE MONTHS LATER

After I was discharged, Miriam offered me a place in her small cottage at the edge of town. She said I reminded her of the daughter she never had, and when she called me “Lily” for the first time, I didn’t argue.

“Lily,” she’d said, smiling faintly. “Strong, beautiful, and impossible to break. That’s what you are.”

So, I became Lily.

I’d never known kindness like hers. Miriam didn’t have children of her own, but she treated me as if I were her daughter. When nightmares woke me in the middle of the night she was there to hold me until my fears goes away.

Every morning, I’d stare at my reflection, hoping a fragment of memory would return. Sometimes I’d touch the faint scar along my temple and wonder if it hid all the answers I needed.

No one in the small pack knew me. They only remembered the day I was found, washed up by the river, wearing a torn white gown.

To support myself and Miriam I started working in pack as a housemaid. 

One evening, after a long day scrubbing floors and washing linens, I trudged back home. My back ached, and my feet felt like they were about to break. but I still smiled when I saw the faint light from Miriam’s window.

“Miriam?” I called as I entered the small cottage. “I brought bread from Mrs. Hanley’s shop. I’ll make soup..”

A sound stopped me. A thud.

My heart leapt. I dropped the basket and ran to her room.

“Miriam!”

She was lying on the floor, pale and trembling, her breathing shallow. I rushed to her side, lifting her head gently. “Miriam, talk to me! What happened?”

She coughed weakly, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing, sweetheart. Just tired.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I said, tears already stinging my eyes. “You’re sick, aren’t you?”

Her silence was enough of an answer.

When I finally convinced her to speak, her voice was barely above a whisper. “I’ve known for a while… the healers in town said it’s cervical cancer. Stage three. There’s nothing they can do for me here.”

“No,” I said fiercely. “There has to be something! We can go to the city, get better treatment, something!”

She shook her head, tears glistening. “I’m old, Lily. Maybe this is how the goddess wants to call me home.”

That night, as she slept, I sat by her bedside, listening to her labored breathing. I knew what I had to do. 

After several hours of not being able to sleep, I made the decision of going to look for the money for her treatment.

I stood on the side of the road, a small bag slung over my shoulder. 

“Where to, miss?” the driver asked.

I hesitated. I had no destination.

“Anywhere,” I murmured. “Just drop me off anywhere.”

When the taxi dropped me off, it was already dark. The streets buzzed with noise. I clutched my bag tightly, unsure where to go. The driver had stopped in front of a massive glass building with bold golden letters that read: Eco Enterprises.

I sneaked around the side of the building and found a small loading area behind it. Curling up behind some crates, I rested my head against the wall, exhaustion pulling me under. But just as sleep began to claim me, voices echoed nearby.

I pressed myself against the wall, straining to listen.

“Alessandro,” the other man said firmly, “you can’t keep neglecting this. As the mafia lord of this pack, you ought to have an heir. You know the pack does not compromise when it comes to this, they’ll question your leadership if you don't give them an heir.”

“I know,” the first man snapped. “But I don't have the heart to love any woman. It has to be a breeder or at most a contract marriage, women are a waste of time and resources to be honest.”

“Well, then find someone who is desperate enough,” his associate muttered. “Pay her handsomely to breed you an heir and dispose get right after she gives birth.”

My heart skipped a beat.

He was going to pay anyone that gives him an heir?

My mind spun. This was it! This was my golden opportunity! He wants an heir and I want money!

I didn’t realize I’d shifted closer until my elbow knocked against a loose pipe. The noise echoed through the alley.

Both men turned sharply toward the sound.

“Who’s there?” the tall one barked, stepping forward.

I froze.

Before I could think, a flashlight hit my face, and I winced, raising a hand to shield my eyes.

He was towering over me now, I could see, for the first time, his face beneath the cowboy hat. It was roughly chiseled, stark, completely masculine. 

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“I was just..” My voice shook. “I am a nobody, but I overheard your conversation.”

His friend stepped forward. “What are you talking about?”

“I will do it!” I said quickly, nodding my head. “I will breed you an heir”

The words burst from my lips before I could stop them.