Claiming Emerald: Four Alphas At Her Feet
Chapter 27: Not the Little Girl...

Chapter 27: Not the Little Girl...

"EM, I’VE GOT SOMETHING!"

Emerald spun around, nearly knocking a scroll off the table as she whispered a sharp, "What?"—the fatigue in her bones vanishing like mist as she hurried over.

Nessa was half-buried behind a stack of old atlases, dragging a dusty, thick volume toward her. "Here!" she said breathlessly. "It was stuffed between two outdated lineage logs. I almost didn’t see it."

"What is it?"

"It’s an old genealogy log. Something about ancient werewolf bloodlines, the rogue kind."

Emerald got to her cousin’s side, brushing dust from the leather cover. "Please don’t tell me it’s another myth book."

"Nope." Nessa opened the book to a dog-eared page, her finger landing on a bold, inked title. "’The Rogue King.’"

Emerald’s breath hitched. "It’s real..."

"There’s a whole Chapter on him." Nessa flipped quickly, pages whispering under her hands. "And get this, it starts with a section called: ’Bloodlines and Forgotten Monarchs’ and has a subsection called: ’The Exiled Crest.’"

Emerald stared at the page. Her heart beat louder than the rustle of parchment.

"You found it," she whispered. "You actually found it."

Nessa smiled smugly. "Knew I was good at something. You’re welcome."

Emerald turned toward the nearest window. Pale gold light had begun bleeding across the horizon.

"It’s morning," Emerald said.

Nessa groaned and flopped onto her back dramatically. "We didn’t sleep. At all."

"We need to go," Emerald said, suddenly serious. "If Darius sees we’ve been snooping, he’ll start asking questions."

"More like storming in with that disappointed dad face of his."

"We’ll put the rest back." Emerald grabbed the book with the Rogue King Chapter and tucked it beneath her jacket. "But this one stays with me."

"Obviously."

Together, they quickly restacked the books, returning everything to its place. Nessa yawned every two seconds, while Emerald kept glancing at the door like it might explode open. Soon, they were done.

Emerald tucked the genealogy log under her arm as if it were sacred, and they left the library as quietly as they had entered.

"Ness," she called as they were about to part for their rooms. "Please don’t mention this to anyone. Especially not your father."

Nessa nodded. "Got it. Secret rogue history. Top priority."

—

Back in her room, Emerald closed the door softly behind her.

She sat on the edge of her bed and placed the book gently beside her. Her fingers hovered over the cover.

A strange anxiety tugged at her ribs.

She was afraid.

Afraid of what she might find. Afraid of how it might change things. The kiss. The mate bond. The photograph. The fact that her own father had stood beside the Rogue King, smiling.

Sometimes... knowledge was more terrifying than ignorance.

She wasn’t sure if she was ready for what the pages might tell her.

He hasn’t aged in decades.

He read your mind.

He called you his mate.

And what about the others? Adrien. Lucian. Kieran. How would they react if they found out she had a fourth mate?

"You know how they’ll react," Viola’s voice whispered, breaking the silence.

"Not now," Emerald muttered.

"You’re thinking about them."

"I’m thinking about everything."

"You’re afraid."

"I should be." Emerald looked down at her hands. "He wasn’t normal, Viola. His aura didn’t just feel powerful. It felt...old. Heavy. Like he’d carried centuries of war and regret."

Viola didn’t respond for a moment. Then: "You’re right. He didn’t feel like the others. He felt...older than this world."

Emerald stared at the book.

"Still breathing?"

"Barely," Emerald whispered.

Viola chuckled. "You’re stronger than this."

"Am I?" Emerald asked. "Because the second he touched me, I felt like I forgot my name."

Silence passed between them.

"Do you think the others will reject the bond?" she asked.

"Lucian won’t," Viola answered. "Kieran will understand, eventually. Adrien... depends on how you tell him."

Emerald exhaled. "Perfect."

—

By mid-morning, Emerald had changed into a sleek black jacket and charcoal pants. Her boots clicked softly as she crossed her room to the writing desk.

She pulled out a sheet of parchment and wrote a short but formal letter, then sealed it with the pack’s insignia on a wax stamp and handed it off to a waiting servant.

"Deliver this to the council and all affiliated Alphas. Every one of them," she said. "There will be an emergency assembly tonight. Accommodations will be provided for those who need to stay within the estate."

"Yes, Alpha," the servant said, bowing before running off.

Before she left the room, she paused to glance at the Rogue King’s book still lying on her bed.

"Later," she murmured.

—

Emerald found Darius near the outer courtyard, giving assignments to the day shift guards. His voice was steady and commanding, as always. "Double patrols on the south wall," he was saying. "And rotate the hall posts hourly. I want eyes everywhere."

"Good morning, Uncle," Emerald said.

He turned the moment he heard her. "Morning, Alpha. I received your letter," he said.

She nodded. "I decided it was time to stop playing defence. The assassin may be gone, but someone ordered the hit. I want them in that room tonight. All of them. And I want eyes on every reaction."

Darius gave her a faint smile. "Your father would’ve been proud."

Emerald didn’t smile back. "He’d also want the truth."

Darius’s expression faltered just slightly, the warmth in his eyes fading a bit. "Don’t think too much about the Rogue King right now. Focus on the threats in front of you."

Emerald’s eyes narrowed. "You’re still avoiding it."

"I’m protecting you."

"No, you’re controlling the narrative." Her voice sharpened. "I’m not the little girl who used to ride around on your shoulders, or spar in the training yard anymore. I’m Alpha now. If you really respected that, you’d stop hiding things from me."

She didn’t wait for his reply. She turned on her heel and walked away.

—

Back in the study, Emerald surrounded herself with documents: patrol shifts, guest logs, interrogation summaries. Her fingers flew across the pages, her mind razor-focused on identifying inconsistencies.

Until her phone buzzed.

She reached for it without looking—probably Nessa or Lucian or—

Her eyes narrowed.

There was no contact name—just an unlisted number and one message.

Strike one. Game on.

Emerald felt a chill run through her body, and her heart dropped in her stomach.