Their Beginning
The ride was silent. Emerald's heart beat fast as they moved through the thick forest, the unknown stretching before her like a shadowed path. Free from the Dark Market, her mind was a whirl of questions. Who was this man who'd bought her without hesitation? What did he want with her? And what would life now be?
Behind her, Alpha Joel sat lost in his thoughts, clenching the reins tight while the horse pushed them onward. This is madness, he thought to himself. No one can be Lena. The name bit into his mind with a lingering bitterness-a ghost of a memory. Yet, he had purchased this girl, a decision now weighing heavy upon him. There was no looking back; Emerald was his responsibility now.
Hours of riding passed, and they neared the grounds of New Oak. Emerald's eyes began to widen as they approached. The place was huge, stretching toward every horizon she could see. Stone walls of high standing surrounded the grounds, silent sentinels. The main entrance loomed high with two massive iron gates, signifying the boundary of the pack's domain. Guards were stationed there, watching intently as they approached. She had seen several large stone buildings, one bigger and more imposing than the last. Wolves moved around the grounds: some in human form, others in their wolf forms. The details everywhere testified to the power and enormous size of the pack.
As they rode through the gates, the horse slowed, and a servant immediately came forward to take the reins. Joel slid off with grace, then turned and reached up for Emerald, his hands sure as they encircled her waist. Her feet touched the ground, and she couldn't help the flutter of relief and tension that crossed her face as she looked around.
They began to walk, Emerald closing in behind Joel, as he guided her deeper into the heart of the grounds. As they passed, people turned to look at her, eyes filled with curiosity, some with shock. She caught whispers and saw glances exchanged, but couldn't make sense of it. Why did people stare at her that way? As if they saw something or someone, that shouldn't be there.
They finally reached a large house set away from the rest. Joel's private residence was elegant yet powerful, constructed with dark wood and stone, with wide windows allowing a view into the forest surrounding it. Just as they reached the steps, a young man appeared, hurrying out to meet them. He was lean, with sharp features and an alert gaze, which showed respect and curiosity in equal measure.
"Alpha Joel!" the youngster greeted, his face forward in a low bow. "We were wondering where you'd gone." But the words cut off abruptly as his gaze landed on Emerald. His eyes widened, his expression changing from surprise to shock in that instant. "Lena?" he whispered, almost to himself, the name tumbling from his lips before he could stop it.
A chill coursed down Emerald's spine as her confusion mounted. She didn't know who Lena was, but she couldn't help but note the reaction her presence seemed to provoke. Why had he called her that? She watched as Joel shot the young man a warning glance; flashing his eyes, the young man clamped his mouth shut and stepped aside with his head hung low, unable to resist shooting curious glances at her.
Girl, go with her," Joel ordered, nodding to a female servant who had quietly appeared beside him. "She'll take you to a room, help you clean up, and dress you." His eyes didn't leave hers for a moment, after which he added, "Wear white.
There was something about his insistence on the color that had picked at Emerald's confusion, but she nodded and saved her questions for another time. She followed the maid down a hall, the silence between them heard in her racing mind. Her footsteps were echoing in the quiet as they went further into the house until they came to a room with a huge bath, which was already filled with hot water.
"Let me clean you up," said the maid kindly, gesturing for her to enter.
Emerald stepped forward, her skin suddenly enveloped in the warmth of the room. She hadn't felt clean in days, maybe weeks, and the sight of the bath alone was enough to nearly bring tears to her eyes. The maid got her out of her torn and dirty clothes; her hands soft as she guided Emerald into the tub. She let out a heavy sigh and allowed herself to sink into the water, feeling grime and dust melt.
She went ahead to pour the warm water over her head, washing away dirt and tangles; her hands worked delicately to work some sweet-smelling soap into Emerald's hair. For what seemed to her like the first time in ages, Emerald felt her racing heart slow, her muscles relaxing, as the maid scrubbed arms, back, and legs, leaving no part untouched. She shut her eyes, willing to forget the dark market and the chains and the stares, for even a few minutes peace was worth its weight in gold.
When she was clean, the maid helped her out of the tub and dried her hair and skin with soft towels. She sat Emerald upon a small stool in front of a mirror and gently brushed and braided her hair, laying it over her shoulder in a neat twist. Then there was the dress: simple, eloquent in its plain white material, clean and flowing. The dress fell softly around her frame, its purity a sharp contrast to the rough clothes she'd been wearing.
As the maid stepped back, Emerald barely recognized herself in the mirror. She looked. Almost like someone else. All dirt and rough edges were gone, leaving her with a quiet beauty that surprised even her. She didn't know what to make of it, but there was no time to dwell. Down another hallway the maid led her, her steps light as they moved toward what she assumed was the dining room.
She entered and her eyes immediately found Joel. He sat at the head of a long table, his gaze off to some distant place, though it sharpened the moment he found hers. He gestured to the chair beside him, and Emerald took her seat, feeling the weight of the silence settle around them.
A meal was placed before them, simple, yet tasty. She could hardly remember when she had last eaten a proper meal. The table was filled with roasted meats, fresh bread, and fruits that looked to have been plucked at that very moment. She picked at her food, conscious of the presence beside her and the silence continued to build as they ate, neither of them speaking.
Emerald tried to focus on the food, but now and then she'd catch him watching her, his gaze unreadable. She wondered what he saw, wondered why he'd brought her here, why he seemed so cold yet so. Attentive. There was something he wasn't telling her, something hidden behind those dark, intense eyes.
When they were done, Joel stood, gesturing for her to follow him. She stood hurriedly, her heart racing as she followed him. They went down a myriad of hallways, his gait sure and deliberate, until they came to a room: smaller, more personal, with one chair by the window. Joel sat down, his arms crossing as he regarded her.
She stayed standing, not quite sure what to expect. Her mind raced a mile a minute with questions, but she said nothing, awaiting his continuation.
The silence was finally broken by the sound of Joel's voice. "I didn't buy you to be a slave," he began in an even, calculated tone, studying her reaction with intent.
A wave of relief washed over her; her heart lifted with his words. Maybe he was different. Maybe he didn't want to control her. "Then. What am I here for?" she asked, voice soft, her relief mixed with curiosity.
Joel leaned forward slightly, gaze steady, and when he spoke, his words were sharp, slicing through the hope that had begun to grow in her chest.
"You are here to be a substitute."