Becoming Lena
Those words seemed to ring in her mind, echoing on repetition, and went on: "You are here to be a substitute." Emerald stood there in a daze, her eyes enlarging on the man before her while her heart drummed in incredulity. A substitute? For what? For whom?
She tried to comprehend what he had just spoken, but it was like her mind felt so greasy that the more she slid away. She had spent the last few hours working out in her head why he had bought her- why a powerful man like Alpha Joel would take her from the Dark Market. She had expected him to want her for work, perhaps some role in the pack. But to hear he wanted her as a substitute? Her hands fisted at her sides as her mind grasped for anything to make this all make sense.
She finally looked up at Joel, sitting in the chair, face relaxed and detached. His body was loosely laid back in the chair; he was showing not even the slightest regard as if he were telling her about the weather. She couldn't conceptualize how he could be so casual about something so weird, so shattering.
Why?" she managed, her voice barely above a whisper, shaking light. "Why me? And how?"
For a moment, Joel's cold eyes softened, and he looked past her as if he was seeing someone else altogether. Then, without warning, he started speaking.
"Her name was Lena," he said, distant. "The first girl I ever loved.
Emerald blinked; she hadn't expected his answer to be some sort of story, but something in his voice caught her attention, making her listen despite herself.
"Lena was…everything," Joel said, his eyes focused somewhere far away. "She was simple, in the best way. She loved people and loved to help them. She was a doctor, a healer in our pack." His tone was softer, an alien warmth creeping in. "Lena was sweet, gentle. She had a way of seeing the good in everyone, even those that didn't deserve it. Children loved her, and they'd gather around her, and she'd play with them for hours, laughing and teasing.
He paused, as if remembering some distant sound, some memory of laughter heard by him alone. Emerald watched him, a sinking feeling beginning as she started to understand what he was saying.
"Lena had a sweet tooth," he continued, a small, sad smile crossing his lips. "She was always munching on something sugary, and she hated anything bitter. She'd make a face every time she tried something even slightly sour or bitter." His eyes softened as he spoke, his tone filled with a quiet ache of nostalgia. "She had a thing for white. She'd say it was the color of purity, of kindness. Lena wore white more than any other color.
She listened as each word sank into her, painting a picture of a woman she'd never known yet felt this odd sense of connection to. Joel spoke of Lena's simple dresses, the way she tied her hair back into a loose braid, her laughter echoing around the pack. In those moments, Emerald could almost see Lena herself, that woman who had once held such a dear place in Joel's heart. Lena was more than a memory to him; she was an ideal, a vision of something he had lost and could never regain.
Emerald swallowed, a sudden wave of sadness regarding this stranger washing over her. Yet a part of her didn't understand why he was telling her this. She looked at Joel, hoping he'd give some explanation, some clear reason, for dragging her into his memories.
Finally, he turned to her fully, his eyes burning with intensity. "You resemble her," he said simply. "When I saw you in the marketplace, I thought. for a moment."
He didn't need to finish; Emerald knew where he was headed. She'd seen it in the looks of people of the pack, the shock and confusion on their faces saw her resemblance to Lena, and that resemblance had brought her here.
Emerald's chest tightened. "S-so. What do you want from me? ", she stammered out barely above a whisper, not wanting to ask, not wanting to know- but needing to hear it.
Joel hunched forward, his voice no louder than a whisper, though firm. "I want you to be Lena. You will have to learn to be her, to speak like her, to move like her, to be gentle and sweet." He paused; his eyes sharpened. "Your only duty here is being Lena. You serve no one else but me. You'll wear white, just as she did. You'll stay in my house, and you will be… her.
The wave of nausea rose in Emerald's stomach, a hollow ache that formed there as she struggled to wrap her mind around his words. To be her? Every part of her recoiled in horror at the idea. She'd barely known her own identity and barely had a sense of self in that market. And now, here she was, expected to give up the little she had left, to erase herself for someone else's memory.
A thread of disgust coiled in her chest, a resistance to this bizarre, heart-wrenching demand. She was not Lena. She could never be Lena. And yet… she had no choice. Her gaze fell to the ground, her fingers clenched into fists at her side as she fought against the helplessness threatening to swallow her.
But Joel wasn't finished.
"I don't care what your name is," he said now, and his voice was colder than in the morning. He spoke as though each word was a blow. "From this moment forward, you'll answer Lena."
His words tore at Emerald's heart. It was like her own identity was being ripped out and molded into something that wasn't her, into the memory of a dead woman, but whose shadow was still in every corner of this place. The weight of the command fell heavy upon her, pushing her down until she felt she couldn't breathe.
She turned to Joel, her heart racing with an ache in her chest she couldn't describe. She was no longer herself; Emerald was gone, buried beneath the name that was never hers, beneath expectations that were never hers to decide. She was to be Lena, a stranger in her skin.
The pain felt as if it could tear her apart. Then again, into Joel's cold gaze, she knew one thing: she had no choice. And with a sinking heart, she realized she was trapped in a life that wasn't hers, bound to a name and a memory she could never live up to.
"You are here to be a substitute."
And there was no going back.