Return Of The Lost Lycan Princess...

Emilia's fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress. The metal teeth separated with a soft whisper that seemed too quiet for such a significant moment. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for the fabric, but she forced them to steady. She would not give Stephanie the satisfaction of seeing her hesitate. "Emilia, you don't have to do this," Alexander said, taking a small step forward. His voice carried a note she hadn't heard in years, something that might have been concern or maybe regret. But it was too late for that. Far too late. Emilia kept her eyes fixed on Stephanie's face, watching the older woman's expression shift between triumph and anticipation. A sad smile curved Emilia's lips as she pulled the dress down over her shoulders. The fabric slid down her arms, catching briefly at her elbows before continuing its descent. The air in the entrance hall felt cold against her exposed skin, raising goosebumps along her arms and shoulders. She could feel the weight of multiple gazes on her, staff members probably peeking from doorways despite having been dismissed, but she refused to look away from Stephanie's eyes. "Oh don't stoop so low by begging her, son," Stephanie said, waving one hand dismissively. Her voice dripped with something that sounded almost gleeful. "She spent years mooching off you. Let her leave the same way she came, with nothing." The dress pooled around Emilia's feet, a circle of soft fabric on the hard marble floor. She had been stripped of many things over the past four years, her dignity, her self-worth, her hope. But she would not let them strip away her courage, not now, not when she was so close to freedom. "Stop," Alexander said again, and this time his voice cracked slightly on the word. He took another step toward her, one hand reaching out as if to physically prevent her from continuing. "Please, Emilia, stop this." But Emilia was already bending down, her fingers grasping the fabric of her dress. She picked it up carefully, folding it once, twice, creating a neat square of material. Her movements were deliberate, precise, as if she was performing some kind of ritual. In a way, she supposed she was. This was her shedding the last pieces of a life that had never truly been hers. She dropped the folded dress on top of the pile of jewellery on the floor, the dress hitting the floor with a thud. The earrings glinted beneath the necklace, and now the dress sat on top of them all like a monument to four wasted years. "This is what you and your mother want, right?" Emilia asked, her voice coming out rougher than she intended. Tears had started to stream down her face at some point, hot tracks against her cool skin. She hadn't even realized she was crying until she tasted salt on her lips. "To strip me bare and remind me that I never belonged in your world?" Now she stood in just her bra and pantie, simple cotton things that she'd put on that morning without thinking. They weren't fancy or expensive. They were just hers, bought with money she'd earned before the marriage, before Alexander, before any of this nightmare had begun. Her skin pale shone in the bright lights of the chandelier overhead. The cool air made her shiver, but she kept her spine straight, her shoulders back. Though her arms wanted to wrap around herself, to cover her exposed skin, to hide from the eyes she could feel watching her, she forced them to stay at her sides. She would not cower. Not anymore. The baby in her belly seemed to flutter, as if in agreement, though she knew it was far too early for that. Still, the thought of her child, her son, gave her strength. Stephanie's lips curved into a smile that had nothing warm or kind in it. Her eyes travelled over Emilia's exposed form with obvious satisfaction, like a cat that had finally cornered a mouse. She crossed her arms over her chest, the gesture somehow making her look even more superior, more untouchable in her expensive suit and perfect hair. "Ah, one last thing," Stephanie said, her voice carrying a note of excitement that made Emilia's stomach turn. She uncrossed her arms to point one manicured finger at Emilia's left hand. "You forgot the ring." Her words hung in the air like a challenge. The smile on her face widened, lips pulling back to show teeth that looked too white, too perfect. She looked like she was enjoying every second of this, like Emilia's humiliation was the best entertainment she'd had in months. Maybe it was. Emilia looked down at her hand. The ring sat there, a simple band of white gold with a small diamond set in the centre. She remembered the day Alexander had given it to her, how her hands had shaken as he'd slipped it onto her finger. She'd thought it meant forever. She'd thought it meant love. What a fool she'd been. Her fingers moved to the ring, twisting it slowly. It had worn a groove into her skin over the years, a small indent that marked where it had sat for so long. The metal was warm from her body heat, familiar against her skin. For just a moment, she hesitated. This was it. This was the final symbol, the last connection to the life she'd built here. Then she thought about Alexander with his arm around Mia, protecting her while Emilia bled on the ground. She thought about the countless nights alone, the birthdays forgotten, the anniversaries ignored. She thought about the baby growing inside her, the son who deserved better than a father who couldn't even acknowledge his existence. The ring slid off easily, too easily, as if it had been waiting for this moment all along. She held it in her palm for just a second, feeling its slight weight. Then she pulled her arm back and threw it toward Alexander with all the force she could muster. The ring hit the marble floor at Alexander's feet with a sound that seemed impossibly loud, a sharp clank that echoed through the entrance hall. It bounced once, twice, then rolled in a small circle before finally settling near the toe of his expensive leather shoe. He looked down at it, his face paling. "I, Emilia Reed, reject you, Alexander Reed, as my mate, my Alpha, and my husband," Emilia said, and her voice came out stronger than she'd expected, clear and firm despite the tears still streaming down her face. "We are done." The words felt powerful as they left her mouth, like an incantation or a spell. She felt something shift in her chest, as if invisible chains she hadn't known she was wearing had suddenly snapped apart. Freedom tasted like salt and sorrow, but it was still freedom. A deep sigh of satisfaction came from Stephanie, the sound almost obscene in its pleasure. She brought one hand to her chest, pressing it there as if to contain her joy. Her eyes sparkled with triumph as she looked between her son and Emilia, clearly relishing every moment of the drama unfolding before her. But Alexander's expression had changed. The uncertain concern from moments ago had vanished, replaced by something harder, something that reminded Emilia of the Alpha he was supposed to be. His jaw tightened, muscles working beneath his skin. His hands curled into fists at his sides, and when he looked up from the ring at his feet, his eyes had gone cold. "That is not how this works, Emilia," Alexander said, his voice grim and flat. Each word came out clipped, precise, like little stones dropping into still water. "Only a werewolf can reject a human."