Chosen as the Cursed Alpha's Seventh Bride

Emilia’s POV

I pulled up outside the Lind villa just as the sun bled out behind the hills. Killing the engine, I glanced at Leighton in the passenger seat, still clutching my sleeve like a kid afraid of the dark.

"We’re here," I said. "Come on. Your mom’s waiting."

The front door swung open before we hit the steps. Madam Lind came flying out, face pinched somewhere between panic and fury.

"Leighton! You ran off again?" She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "Do you have any idea how sick with worry I’ve been?"

Leighton didn’t even flinch at the scolding. He just tightened his grip on my arm. "Emilia, don’t go. I won’t let you go."

Something in my chest pulled tight. Eve stirred at the back of my mind, low and wary. I don’t like it here, she murmured. Something’s off.

I brushed her off. I just want to drop him and leave.

Richie stepped into the doorway, watching his son cling to me with a look I couldn’t quite read.

"Emilia. It’s been a while." He spread his hands. "Stay for dinner. It’s the least we can do."

"No, thanks." I peeled Leighton’s fingers off my sleeve, gentle. "I’ve got somewhere to be. I won’t keep you."

Madam Lind’s face soured.

But before I could turn, Richie stepped down onto the path and lowered his voice. "Emilia. I owe you an apology."

That stopped me.

"Back then," he went on, "the things I threatened you with, the deal, the pressure, it was wrong. All of it. I was desperate, and I handled it like a coward. I’m asking you to forgive an old fool."

I let out a short laugh. "A little late for apologies, don’t you think? You didn’t hold a single card back at the time."

His jaw twitched, but he held the smile.

Madam Lind stepped up beside him, wringing her hands. "You have to understand, Emilia. You walked away from the arrangement. Leighton depends on you, he always has. When you left, he stopped eating, stopped sleeping. We panicked. We’re parents. We did a stupid thing for our child’s sake." Her voice cracked. "Surely you of all people can understand that."

I opened my mouth to throw it back at them, and then Leighton looked up at me.

Wide-eyed. Hopeful. Not a scrap of malice in him. He didn’t understand deals or threats or any of the poison his parents traded in. He just knew I was the one person he leaned on and trusted.

Walk away, Eve pressed. Emilia. Walk away.

But I couldn’t. Damn it, I couldn’t.

"Fine," I said, exhaling hard. "One meal. Then I’m gone."

Leighton lit up like Christmas morning and dragged me inside.

The living room smelled of lemon polish and something sweeter underneath. Madam Lind brought over two cups of tea, setting one in front of me. Leighton dropped onto the sofa beside me, thrilled I’d stayed.

"Leighton, go up to your room," Richie said. "I need a word with Emilia."

"No." Leighton shook his head, arms crossed. "Not leaving."

"Come now, be a good boy. Just a few minutes. I promise Emilia won’t disappear." Richie shot his wife a look I didn’t like.

Madam Lind coaxed him up the stairs, murmuring the whole way. The second his footsteps faded, the warmth drained off Richie’s face.

"So," I said, picking up the tea to keep my hands busy. "What’s this really about?"

"Stay here. With us." He leaned forward. "You see how he is. He can’t live without you."

I stared at him. "You’ve lost your mind."

"If you insist on being difficult," his voice dropped, "then don’t blame me for what comes next. I told you once, Richie Lind destroys what he can’t have. Refuse me, and I’ll drag your name through every gutter in this city."

Apologizing one minute, threatening me the next.

I sneered and took a long sip. "And how, exactly? Buy off the press again? Been there. Barely felt it."

"Think carefully, Emilia."

"No need." I drained the cup and set it down with a click. "My answer won’t change if you make me think on it a thousand years." I stood. "There. I drank your tea, I heard you out. We’re done."

I made it three steps toward the door.

Then the floor tilted.

My knees buckled. I caught the doorframe, but my legs had turned to water, and the room spun into a smear of light. My skull throbbed. Worse, Eve went silent. That warm, constant thread that tied me to her frayed, thinned, snapped clean.

"Eve? EVE—"

Nothing. Just a hollow, ringing absence where my wolf had been. I’d never felt so small.

I slid down the wall.

Richie crouched in front of me, wearing a grin I wanted to claw off his face.

"What did you put in it," I rasped.

"Something special. Brewed for wolves like you." He clicked his tongue. "Severs the bond between you and your beast. Numbs the nerves. For the next while, you’re nothing but a soft little human girl. No wolf. No strength. No Alpha coming to save you."

The stairs creaked. Madam Lind descended slow, savoring it, and stopped over me.

"This is what you get," she said, "for betraying my son and this family."

"What the hell do you want from me?" I forced the words out. My tongue felt thick, but I could still speak, could still spit venom, and God knew I wanted to.

"You’ll find out soon enough."

They hauled me up between them and dragged me down a hall into a windowless room, throwing me onto a bed. Richie dusted off his hands.

"She’s all yours," he told his wife, and walked out.

The door clicked. Madam Lind reached for the collar of my shirt.

I thrashed, but my arms wouldn’t answer. "What are you doing, don’t touch me. Get your hands off me!"

She ignored every word, picking at my clothes with quick, businesslike fingers. "Don’t blame us for this. You brought it on yourself. If you’d just married my son like a good girl, none of it would be happening."

I lay there like a fish on the block, watching the butcher raise the knife, and every muscle I owned refused to fight.

"You’ll regret this," I hissed. "The second Sebastian finds out, he’ll wipe the Lind name off the map. He’ll ruin every one of you."

"Oh, spare me the innocent act." Her lip curled. "Everyone in this city knows what your mother was. An escort. A woman who spread her legs for a paycheck. And here you are, playing the untouchable little lady." She laughed. "It’s almost funny."

It had been a long time since I’d heard anyone drag my mother through the mud like that. I’d thought only Linda Taylor and Dorothy Ryles stooped that low. Apparently Madam Lind had the same gutter in her. The last of my manners burned away, and I stopped caring how I sounded.

"You wretched old hag," I spat. "Get away from me. You’ll die screaming for this. I’ll make sure of it."

CRACK.

Her palm split across my cheek. I’d been slapped before, God knew I had, but this one cut deeper, because I was stripped bare beneath her hands, humiliated in a way I’d never forget.

"Watch your mouth," she snarled, "or things get a great deal worse."

She rose, straightened her blouse, and swept out. Through the cracked door I heard Richie’s low voice.

"Is it done?"

"Everything’s ready," she said. "Go make your preparations."