Emilia

My name slipped from Alpha Dominic's lips like a blade.

“Emilia, do you know anyone who would want Lorenzo dead?”

The air around us turned to stone.

Dozens of eyes landed on me. I felt them pressing in, heavy, suffocating, but Xavier's hands slid into mine, grounding me. I squeezed it, drawing strength from his silen support.

My throat tightened and I forced myself to meet Alpha Dominic's gaze.

Do I know?

Of course not.

Why would anyone want Lorenzo dead?

Why would anyone take away the kindest, bravest man I've ever known?

Memories flickered through my head — Lorenzo's smile, the way he'd always tucked my hair behind my ear, the promises he made me beneath the moon. His love had been gentle, fierce, and mine. How could anyone hate that?

“No,” I whispered, my voice small. “I don't know anyone.”

Alpha Dominic stared at me for a moment longer, then sighed and turned away.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Xavier didn't speak. He just cradled me in his arms. I didn't know he had been the one carrying me. My eyes met his and he smiled bitterly. I leaned into him, grateful.

The funeral was 3 days later.

The entire pack gathered under the mourning tree, its white blossoms fluttering like falling snow. They've laid Lorenzo in his ceremonial robes, sword resting across his chest. His wolf pendant — our bond token — hung around his neck. It should've been me placing it there. Not the priestess. Not some stranger in cloth who never heard him laugh or curse or him when he thought no one was listening.

The ceremony slipped by like smoke. Hymns, condolences, white roses piled like bones. Lorenzo hated roses. He said “they were too delicate for our world”. I think of him now, surrounded by the thing he disliked the most. It feels like a joke the universe is playing on him. On me.

I stood in silence, lost.

I couldn't cry. I couldn't scream. I couldn't even breathe properly. My body moved only because Xavier moved with me — his arm at my back, his shawl draped around my shoulders, his strength cradling my broken pieces like they were precious.

He was my anchor. The only thing keeping me from drowning.

People whispered how noble he was, how selfless. How lucky I was to have such a brother by my side. And I believed them.

Everytime I trembled, he steadied me.

Every time I stumbled, he caught me.

Every time I wanted to collapse, he whispered, “I've got you, Emilia.”

And I believed him.

The pain was bearable, but Xavier was always there. He held me during the service, never letting go, and when Lorenzo's body was lowered into the earth, I clutched his hand like a lifeline.

I don't remember walking back from the mourning tree. I just remember the way Xavier guided me through the crowd, his fingers firm and warm on my wrist.

“Come home with me,” he said gently. “You shouldn't be alone.”

“I don't want to be.” I replied without thinking.

A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Then let me take care of you.”

He brought me tea. Sat beside me on the couch as I sobbed into his shoulder. That night, I slept in his room because I couldn't bear being alone. I wore Lorenzo's old sweater, but it was Xavier's voice that soothed me to sleep.

“I'll protect you,” he whispered.

I believed him.

I needed to.

But my nightmares started that same week.

I'd wake up crying, calling Lorenzo's name, my heart screaming in denial. Xavier would be there before I could even sit up, holding me close, rocking me gently.

“It's okay,” he'd say. “I'm here.”

He never mentioned Lorenzo. Never spoke ill of him. Only held me as I wept, his silence a balm.

One night, I heard muffled voices through the floorboards — low, urgent, like an argument. Curious and half-awake, I slipped out of bed and padded downstairs quietly. In the dim light of the hallway, I saw Xavier standing with three unfamiliar men near the front door. One of them clutched a gold coin, flipping it between his fingers, while Xavier handed over a small leather pouch.

The man grinned. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Xavier?” I asked, confused.

Xavier turned, his face unreadable for a moment before relaxing into a smile. “Emilia, you're up. These are … old friends.”

One of the men, tall, sharp-eyed, stepped forward, ignoring the subtle warning in Xavier's gaze.

“Ma'am,” he said with an exaggerated bow. “I heard. So sorry to hear about your husband's death. A tragedy, truly.”

I swallowed and nodded. “Thank you. Would you like some tea?”

Before he could answer, Xavier cut in smoothly. “They were just leaving, Emilia. Go back to bed. You need rest.”

The leader still held my hand, his grip too firm to be polite, before finally letting go.

I offered a tired smile and turned away, telling myself I was overthinking it.

They were just friends just passing through.

I want to go back to my room.

And when the nightmare came again, Xavier was there before I could cry out.

A day came when I dreamed I was in the woods.

The moon was high. The air, cold.

And then I saw him.

Lorenzo.

Blood soaked his shirt. His eyes, those beautiful, haunted green eyes, locked onto mine.

“Emilia…” he gasped, stumbling forward.

I tried to run to him, but my legs wouldn't move.

“Lorenzo!” I screamed.

He dropped to his knees.

“It was Xavier,” he choked, blood spilling from his lips.

Then darkness swallowed him whole.

I shot up uptight in bed, my chest heaving.

It was a dream.

Just a dream.

I blinked, and Xavier was there again, standing in the doorway, eyes shadowed with concern.

“You okay?” He asked softly.

“I… I had a nightmare,” I whispered, voice shaking.

He came to my side without hesitation, smoothing my hair back, resting a hand over my heart.

“Shh. It's okay. I'm here,” he said, voice warm like a blanket.

And once again, I believed him.

I curled into his arms like I used to when I was a child, too afraid of the dark.

The dream faded, replaced by a steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Xavier would never hurt me.

Xavier loved me.

He was my brother.

My protector.

My everything, now that Lorenzo was gone.

I didn't know why I kept dreaming about those things.

But I was sure of one thing :

I couldn't face this without him.

I wouldn't.