CHAPTER 4
1837 Words
EMMA MORETTI
The cold of the night cuts through my skin like razors, but none of this compares to the throbbing pain that consumes my body.
I try to stand, but my legs tremble. The tears flow hot down my face as I face Damon and Elijah.
Their eyes, golden and wild, capture my attention.
It’s frightening and fascinating at the same time. I want to scream at them and demand answers, but my voice won’t come out. The air feels frozen in my lungs.
Suddenly, a movement catches my attention.
The man Damon knocked to the ground gets up with a speed I can barely follow.
Before I can react, he lunges at me. I see the shine of the blade in his hand, and then I feel the knife penetrate my abdomen.
The scream tears through my throat before I can control it.
The pain is so intense that my body doubles over, and my hands clutch the wound, trying to contain the blood that flows hot between my fingers.
"Emma!", Damon’s voice, reaches me like a desperate roar.
He runs to me, while Elijah advances on the man, throwing him against a tree with such force that the trunk splits.
I hear the sound of the impact, but everything around me starts to blur.
Damon kneels beside me, his trembling hands pressing on my wound.
He looks desperate, his golden eyes filled with panic.
"Stay with me. Please stay with me...", he begs, his voice broken.
The blood soaks the ground beneath me, and my vision begins to darken. I feel my strength leaving me, and my eyelids become too heavy to keep open.
"Don’t close your eyes!", Damon commands, his voice taking on a tone of desperation.
I turn my head enough to see Elijah approaching, his face as distressed as Damon’s.
"She’s going to die. We need to do this now.", Damon whispers, barely audible.
"No! We can’t mark her like this, Damon. Not this way!", Elijah shakes his head, his fists clenched.
"If we don’t, she’ll die!", Damon screams back, fear and pain mixed in each word.
I try to speak or say something, but my body doesn’t respond. All I can manage is a weak moan as my field of vision narrows.
"Elijah. She’s ours. We can’t lose her.", Damon murmurs, his eyes fixed on me.
Elijah hesitates, his expression full of conflict. For a moment, I think he’s going to refuse, but then he kneels beside me, carefully holding my face.
"Emma, stay awake, please. We’re going to save you. I promise.", he says, his voice firm, but his eyes betray the fear he’s trying to hide.
I try to focus on his face, but everything around me seems to be spinning.
"I’ll make this stop, Emma. We’ll make the pain stop...", Elijah whispers, exchanging a meaningful glance with Damon.
Suddenly, I feel their hands holding me, one on each side, stabilizing my almost fainting body.
"I'm sorry.", Elijah murmurs before leaning his head toward my shoulder.
That’s when they bite.
The pain explodes like lightning, and I scream with all the strength I have left. The sensation is unbearable, like fire running through my veins. I try to thrash, but they hold me tight.
Slowly, the pain begins to change. It doesn’t disappear completely, but something different replaces it—a warm, pulsing sensation I can’t explain.
The tears flow down my face, and all I can do is cry. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I feel like something is changing inside me, something I can’t control.
"It’s over.", Elijah murmurs against my skin, pulling away.
Damon is the next to pull away. His eyes are still glowing with intensity, but there’s something else there—a mixture of relief and sadness.
My body completely gives up, and the darkness finally consumes me.
I sit up abruptly, a movement that causes a dull pain to pulse in my shoulders.
I instinctively bring my hand to the area and feel the marked skin. My fingers touch something raised—two spots, one on each side, near my collarbone.
They’re bite marks.
"Emma.", Elijah’s voice, pulls me out of my trance.
I lift my gaze and see him leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His face is grim, his eyes watching every movement I make with attention.
"What did you do to me?", my voice comes out hoarse, almost a whisper.
Damon enters the room before Elijah can respond, carrying a tray with a glass of water and a cloth.
He looks tense, his shoulders rigid, and his gaze avoiding mine.
"We... had to mark you.", Damon says, his voice lower than usual.
"Mark? What does that mean?!", my confusion quickly turns to anger.
Elijah sighs, running his hand through his dark hair.
"It means you’re one of us now. You belong to us."
His words make my stomach churn.
"You’re telling me you turned me into... one of you? I didn’t ask for this!"
"Did you want to die?", Damon retorts, his tone cold, but his eyes revealing the pain he feels.
"Emma, we did this to save your life. If we hadn’t marked you, you’d be dead now.", Elijah says, kneeling by my side.
I look at them, my chest tight with a mix of fear, anger, and sadness. The marks on my body are a cruel reminder that my life will never be the same.
"You’re hiding something from me.", I whisper, my eyes filled with tears.
They exchange silent looks, but say nothing.
"You’re going to tell me everything.", I demand, trying to ignore the tremor in my voice.
The silence between us is suffocating. Damon and Elijah stand in the room, staring at me with an intensity that feels like it’s piercing my soul.
I feel like the surrounding air is thick, almost impossible to breathe. They know they’re about to change my life in a way that can’t be undone.
Damon finally breaks the silence, his voice deep and controlled.
"Why did you decide to play gods and mark my life without my consent?"
"Please, Emma...", Elijah steps forward, raising his hands as if he wants to calm the storm growing inside me.
"Things aren’t as simple as they seem. We did what was necessary. You were dying."
I cross my arms, trying to hide the tight knot forming in my stomach.
"Then explain it to me. Explain why it was so necessary to 'mark me.' What are you hiding?"
They exchange a quick, meaningful glance, a silent conversation happening between them.
"Because you’re important, Emma.", Elijah begins, but hesitates.
"Important how?", my voice is firm, but inside, I’m trembling.
Damon sighs, running his hand through his black hair.
He finally sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes fixed on mine with a mixture of frustration and something I can’t decipher.
"Our father was an Alpha. He led our clan, but had other responsibilities. He was very close friends with your parents. They trusted him with their lives.", Damon says, his voice low.
My chest tightens at the mention of my parents.
The pain of the loss, always there, intensifies.
"What does this have to do with me?"
Elijah steps forward, his face serious.
"Everything. Before he died, your father entrusted the mission of protecting you to our father. When he died, that mission passed to us."
My mind spins, trying to piece things together.
"Protect me from what?"
They tense up. Damon looks away, and Elijah seems to be searching for the right words.
"From everything. Especially from other werewolves.", Damon says, finally, his voice darker.
"Why? Why do I need protection? Why did you adopt me?", the frustration rises in my throat.
Elijah looks at Damon again as if asking for permission.
Damon nods, his eyes full of something I can only describe as a huge weight.
"Because you’re the last of the Ragnar clan bloodline.", Elijah says, each word carrying a gravity that makes my heart stop.
My head spins.
"Bloodline? What bloodline?"
"The Ragnar clan was the most powerful werewolf bloodline that ever existed. Your parents were the leaders. When they were murdered, you were the only survivor." Damon replies, leaning forward.
My stomach churns. Murdered. I always believed my parents died in an accident.
"You’re telling me my parents died protecting me?", my voice comes out weaker than I’d like.
Damon nods, his gaze heavy.
"Yes. And if you die, the Ragnar bloodline disappears. That would cause an imbalance in the werewolf world. That’s why they tried to kill you today."
I feel like I’m falling, the weight of these words pulling me down. Everything starts to make sense.
"So... what am I?", the question slips out before I can process.
Elijah steps forward, extending his hand but stopping before touching me.
"You’re a Luna, Emma. The natural leader of the Ragnar clan. Your bloodline isn’t just powerful; it’s legendary. Your father was an alpha, and your mother was human."
My breath quickens. Luna. Leader. The words whirl in my mind like a tornado.
"And now that you’ve marked me, what does that mean?", I ask, distrust in my voice.
Damon gets up, walking in my direction.
He stops a few inches from me, his golden eyes burning into mine.
“It means that now you are ours.”
My heart beats faster inside my chest.
“What does that mean?”
“It means no one else can claim you. You belong to our clan now.",Damon says with brutal honesty.
My throat tightens.
“And if I don’t want to? Is this a choice?”
“No.", he replies, without hesitation.
Elijah joins him, his face softer but still serious.
“When you turn eighteen, your true nature will manifest. You will have abilities you can’t even imagine yet. Strength, heightened senses... maybe even things we don’t know.”
Damon touches my face with a gentleness that contrasts with the intensity of his words.
“But you don’t have to be afraid. We are here. We always have been. You are ours, Emma. Nothing will happen to you.”
The warmth of his hand on my skin leaves me frozen. His eyes hold mine as if trying to trap me there forever.
Elijah takes another step, standing beside Damon.
“From the moment you were marked, you belonged to us. Not just to our clan, but to us.”
My heart races.
“You’re saying that I’m destined... for you?”
They exchange another look, heavy with meaning.
“Yes. You are ours, Emma. You always were. You always will be.", Damon says, his voice low but firm.
A wave of shock rushes through my body.
The idea of being destined for my own adoptive brothers is overwhelming, a whirlwind of emotions I can’t decipher.
Elijah places his hand on my shoulder, his voice soft.
“This may seem like too much now, but with time, you’ll understand. It will make sense.”
- Writer
