Chapter 151: The Truth Brandon Hid
"Mother, each time I look at Ashley, I feel he mated you because of me. Are you sure he is happy?" She asked. Nina stood up and excused herself. Probably, to give them a chance to have some intimate conversations.
"Of course, he is happy. Does he look unhappy?" Emily asked.
"No he doesn’t, but he once told me he repressed the feelings he had for you."
"And it surged up again, stronger and better. He thought he had gotten rid of it. He never knew the feeling only got curbed temporarily. You can forget somewolf you once had feelings for if he or she is out of your sight, but everything comes back to life when you see them again.
"And you... did those feelings for him come back?"
She lowered her eyes for a moment, a small smile tugging at her lips.
"Yes. And from the way he’s been treating me..." She looked up again. "He’s still in love with me."
Beside her, Emma quietly let out the breath she’d been holding.
"Do you think you would have had another pup for him if he had kept his promise?" She asked curiously.
"Where did you go before coming here," Emily asked, ignoring her question. A call came in as soon as she opened her lips to answer her question. She looked at the caller, sighed, and tossed the device aside. Faith had never conveyed good news to her. It had always been Theresa this and that.
"Accept the call, Emma," Emily said calmly, as though it was an offense to ignore some wolf’s call. She picked up the device.
"Hi, Faith!"
"Emma, she has finally committed suicide."
"What?"
"I think she is dead," she said and sobbed.
"Who?" She stood up from the chair and fixed her questioning eyes on Emily.
"Theresa!"
"That’s not true, right?" She said as tears covered her eyes.
"We are not sure yet."
"What happened?"
"She ran back into the house after she saw what the pups did to their cars and just dropped to the floor. I ran after her. Then I heard this loud crack." Faith’s voice broke. "She slammed her head against the ground. I called the emergency unit right away. The paramedics still haven’t told us anything yet, but... the truth is right in front of us." Her knees gave out as tears spilled down her face. "I think she’s gone."
Emily quickly took the device from her and hung up. She pulled her closer and she leaned on her chest and cried painfully. She felt guilty and, for once, she thought she should have left things the way they were.
"Theresa is dead."
Emily’s hand froze around the device. For a few long seconds, she said nothing. Then her brows slowly pulled together.
"What?" she whispered.
Her grip tightened. "How did it happen?"
A beat passed before she asked again, quieter this time,
"...Did she get sick?"
"No."
"Oh, my Goddess." Emily grabbed her hand before she could pull away. "Don’t start blaming yourself, soft fang." She gave her fingers a small squeeze. "They set this up for you, and it turned back on them. You didn’t do this."
She waited a second, then asked quietly, "What were you supposed to do? Stand there and let them take what belongs to you?"
Emma pressed her lips together and shook her head.
Silence settled between them again. Only the sound of shaky breathing filled the chamber.
"Did she shoot herself?" Emma asked.
"No." Her voice cracked. She dragged in a breath that trembled on the way out. "She threw herself down." A sob caught in her throat. "She kept saying she’d kill herself if they didn’t find her pup. The neighbors were watching her, but..." She covered her mouth, gasping for air.
Emily’s eyes narrowed. "What?" She leaned forward. "Lunara is missing?"
"Yes, she ran away from home yesterday. I visited Theresa this moonrise and she blamed me for everything."
"What? You visit her? Why? Soft fang, you shouldn’t have visited her," she said, looking at her device which was ringing again. She pushed the device to her side.
Faith’s voice crackled through the communication device.
"Emma... she’s dead."
Emma straightened in her seat, her grip tightening around the device.
"Has it been confirmed?" she asked.
A brief silence passed before Faith answered.
"Yes."
All the experiences she had while growing up under her care began to play out like a movie before her eyes. She was not all that bad to her. However, one thing she hated about her was always applauding Lunara and Daniel. She never saw anything bad in whatever they did.
"I’ll be on my way, mother," she said and stood up to go. She waved at the drivers that stood close to the pool. They understood her and drove the cars out. Paige and Naomi joined them and they left. Her heart was heavy with grief and she kept sobbing silently, wishing Lunara would have stayed with her mother.
She hurried out of the elevator the moment they got home and threw herself onto the bed. Mrs. Thompson stepped into the room, watched her quietly for a few seconds, then turned and left without a word. She kept her face buried in the pillow, hiding her tears so Mrs. Thompson wouldn’t notice she had been crying.
About an hour later, Brandon walked into the chamber in a rush and stopped when his eyes landed on her. She slowly turned toward the other side of the bed as tears streamed down her face. This time, she couldn’t hide her emotions. She had no idea the news about Theresa’s death had already spread across social media.
Brandon slowly pulled his shoes off and joined her on the bed.
"I should have left things the way they’re. I should have run and never..."
Brandon’s hand came up fast, fingers pressing gently over her lips. His eyes locked on hers, steady, unmoving.
"Don’t," he said slowly.
She shook under his touch, tears slipping down before she could stop them. Her voice broke against his palm.
"All of this... wouldn’t have happened if I just moved on."
He let out a sharp breath and dropped his hand to her cheek instead, wiping a tear with his thumb like it annoyed him that it existed.
"You did move on," he said. "Life didn’t."
She laughed once, but it cracked halfway, turning into a sob as she looked away.
"Then why are we here again?"
Brandon stepped closer. Close enough that she had to tilt her head back to keep eye contact. His jaw tightened.
"Because I didn’t stop loving you."
Her lashes fluttered. "And Lunara?"
At the name, something flickered in his face—brief, irritated.
"I never loved Lunara."
She went still, breathing uneven.
"Then why didn’t you say it?"
His hand dropped from her face. He looked away for a second, like the answer tasted bad.
"I did." His voice lowered. "My father gave me a choice."My career... or you," he said, voice rough. His eyes dropped for a moment before lifting back to hers. "And if I chose you, I’d never see you again."
His jaw tightened as he exhaled through his nose, slowly.
"I chose the path my father forced on me," he said quietly. "The one that makes me an Alchemist."
His fingers flexed at his side, like he was holding something back.
"Not because I wanted it," he added, voice lower now. "But because it was the only way I could come back to you."
Silence settled heavy between them.
She stared at him, lips parted but nothing coming out. Her fingers curled slowly into her palms.
Brandon stepped back just a little, enough to let her breathe, but not enough to let her go.
"Stop doing that," he said quietly.
Her eyes lifted to him again.
"Blaming yourself."
His gaze held hers, firm now.
"This isn’t on you. It isn’t on me either."
A pause.
"Lunara and her parents knew I loved you," he said, his jaw tightening. "And they still kept pushing, like they thought they could take you from me anyway."
He cuddled her up for more than an hour. The feeling of guilt she had in her heart disappeared and she began to feel better again. He was just worth the struggle and she was ready to fight any wolf who would try to steal him from her. She slowly swung around and relaxed her head on his chest, feeling secure and comfortable. She felt as if nothing happened.
***************
The homecoming party kicked off at exactly 6:00 PM. Brandon and she joined them ten minutes later at the poolside. The disco light and good music that filled the party arena created a pleasant atmosphere. The poolside had a graceful look due to the different colored lights that filled everywhere.
They sat at the table, watching two mates on the dance floor—laughing, swaying too close, showing off without trying to hide it.
Emma’s fingers rested on her glass. Still. Quiet.
Then the music shifted.
She froze.
A soft 90s track rolled through the hall.
Her breath hitched before she could stop it.
Brandon didn’t look away from her. Not even once.
On the dance floor, wolves stepped out in old-style outfits—sharp collars, loose jackets, vintage cuts. They moved like they’d stepped out of another time. Clean. Precise. Almost nostalgic.
Emma blinked slowly.
Her shoulders eased without permission.
Brandon leaned back slightly in his chair, watching her instead of the crowd.
Like he already knew.
Her lips parted, then pressed together again. She shifted in her seat, drawing her arms closer to her wolf.
A small breath slipped out.
He tilted his head.
His eyes narrowed just a little.
Then that smile came—slow, crooked, unfair.
Emma looked away fast, like it burned her.
Her mouth twitched anyway.
Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
The music kept playing.
And neither of them said a word.
"Hi," a hand waved at them. They turned their heads and she couldn’t believe her eyes.
