"Who are you?" Emma asked.
Brandon kept quiet and left her question unanswered. Tears clouded her eyes immediately. She desperately needed an answer and knew to get it from him, she had to color her words in a neutral shade. She walked towards him, knelt at his back, and leaned on his shoulder.
"Brandon, I'm sorry; please, talk to me," she whispered.
"I introduced myself to you on social media, and you called me a scammer and blocked me! I followed you everywhere to tell you who I am, but you kept embarrassing and humiliating me," he snapped.
Emma blinked, confused for a heartbeat.
"Your mark… it's gone."
Oliver's golden eyes twinkled.
"All part of turning eighteen."
Emma nodded slowly, her mind racing. She knew wolves' marks and powers evolved at that age, yet seeing him without it made her heart skip. He was the same… and yet completely different.
"I'm sorry," Emma murmured.
"It's fine," Brandon said.
"Why were you pretending to be someone else? Brandon, you don't need to be him to get my attention," she added.
"I'm not pretending," he replied.
"W…w…what a coincidence, both of you have similar characteristics, and he… was also an… a… Soulcrafter," Emma sputtered as the beautiful painting he was making amazed her.
"You are looking at the breasts again," he teased.
"What!!" she exclaimed and moved away immediately because she had indeed been looking at the size of the breasts. She always did each time Brandon drew her.
Brandon stood up, walked into his closet, and came out with another painting. He gave it to her after staring at it for a while. She wiped her tears and took the painting from him. Her tears dried up immediately, and her throat became dry.
"You rejected this, but I kept it for you. I know that one day, you will appreciate it," he said.
Emma stood up and looked deep into his eyes. What she saw was more than a mere pretense. She didn't know what to do—run to him or away from him. She dropped the picture on the floor and began running towards the door. Brandon quickly stopped her and held her tight. They stood still for more than ten minutes. Her tears wet his pristine singlet.
"I visited the park every Saturday, hoping you would show up one day, but you never did," Emma whispered as she buried her face in his chest. He remained quiet, uttering no word.
"I wanted to thank you for pulling me out of that hellhole territory. When my mother came and took me home, I knew you had a hand in it. What did you do?" Emma asked softly.
"My absence scared the hell out of my parents. They almost declared me missing. When I returned the next day, I opened up to my father. He scolded me, sealed my secret exit, and kept me under total surveillance.
He wanted to invite you to our house every Saturday to pose for me, but after investigation, he brought another she-wolf instead. I did not stop drawing you whenever the new wolf posed because you are always in my heart and I'm used to you. I tried to draw the new wolf several times, but the picture ended up looking like you," Brandon explained.
"Where is the she-wolf now?" Emma whimpered.
"My mother later adopted her, and she moved into our pack. She is the one my packmates and allies close to my den refer to as my mate," he replied.
"Where is she?"
"She is with my family," Brandon said. Silence followed.
"Is she in love with you?" Emma asked.
"I think she is not; she is obsessed with me," he muttered.
"Oh…my moon goddess!… And you?"
"You are always in my heart, Emma. My heart beats for you," Brandon whispered, fixing his rare golden eyes on hers.
Silence fell again. He held her head firmly as their gazes locked. His rare golden eyes bore into her, and she felt a warmth she had never felt before.
"All the promises you made to me, you never kept any," she said, lowering her face.
"I kept all, except claiming you when you turned eighteen," he murmured.
Emma lifted her head to look at his face.
"You did?"
"You will figure them out gradually," Brandon replied. Silence lingered in the chamber.
"Have you slept with her?"
"She is like a blood she-wolf to me, even though she was not legally adopted," he said.
Emma knew the answer. Tears rolled down her cheeks and wet his singlet.
"When did you sleep with her last?"
"Just once; I was depressed and heartbroken."
"Why?"
"I looked unrecognizable because of what I went through, and it was all because of you. I couldn't wait to hold you in my arms when I came back from England. You were the first person I wanted to see, but you rejected and humiliated me. I could not stand your rejection," he admitted.
"That was three years ago, right?"
"Yes," he confirmed.
"Since she came to your den when she was just a teenager, you are probably her first," Emma guessed.
"No, I'm not," Brandon said.
"Can you guess your position?"
"Maybe her fourth or fifth," he admitted.
"Not all virgins bleed," Emma stated.
"I'm aware," he replied.
"Who then is her first?"
"I don't know, and I don't care," Brandon said.
"Since your pack-kins want you to mate her, she can't possibly have a mate," Emma reasoned.
"I don't trust her, though she doesn't have a mate. I believe she is seeing one of the domestic workers," Brandon said.
"Now I know why you keep warning me to stay away from Bernard. Is your pack-kins aware you have slept with her?"
"No, but my she-wolf knows. I regret it every day, and she figured it out," he muttered.
"Did she know you are in love with someone else?"
"My she-wolf?"
"No, your unreal mate."
"Yes, and she also thinks I love her too. She goes about telling wolves I love her so much."
"Why did she think you loved her?" Emma asked.
"I pictured her that day," Brandon whispered. Her tears increased.
"It's okay, no one is perfect," she said, lifting her face slowly to look at the first painting again.
"She and your pack-kins are the lake, I guess," Emma said.
"No," he replied.
"Oh my moon goddess!"
"Who is the lake?"
"You will find out soon. My father knows you are with me," he said.
"Did you come back to me because you complicated your mate bond with her?" Emma asked.
"We did not have a mate bond," he said.
"Did she come back for more?" she pressed, but he did not answer. Silence meant yes.
"What stopped you from coming back when you reached the consensual age?"
"My father gave me conditions that I must meet if I ever wanted to see you again. One was impossible, and I couldn't complete it on time."
"Did you complete it later?"
"No, but I tried my best. I'm still working on it though."
"You still paint every Saturday?"
"Yes, when I'm less busy or have no social or pack function to attend to," Brandon replied.
Emma put her hand around his waist as she leaned on his shoulder. Her mind recalled everything the maids said about Brandon spending time with his mysterious mate and what Mr. Richard said about him doing the only thing that gives him joy. They were right.
"Do you think your father will accept me?"
"I have accomplished all his tasks, except one," he whispered.
"What is it?" she asked softly.
"He wants to meet your blood parents."
"Oh my moon goddess! Did you find anything? Tell me, please," she pleaded.
"No, but I found out what transpired between your blood -mother and your adoptive parents," Brandon said.
"Please, tell me. I accepted my father and Mrs. Nazar's horrible decision because of this information," Emma said.
"I will, but you need to eat first," he added.
"My father said my blood -mother is a criminal; is it true?"
"Not really, she was "Lunar wanderer". Don't worry, I'll tell you everything," Brandon replied. He lifted her and led her to the bed where the food was kept.
"And my father?"
"No information about him yet."
She locked her teary gaze with his. Everything looked like a dream. He grabbed her palms and squeezed them gently.
"I miss you," she muttered.
"You really miss me my moonpup," Brandon smiled for the first time since she entered his chamber.
"How do you know?"
"You said it more than ten times last night," he replied.
"Wait… what? You came to my chamber last night?"
Emma asked. Brandon fixed his golden eyes on her. A faint glint of humor shone in them.
She had been wondering how he communicated with his guards—they always carried out his instructions without words. Now she understood: he talks with his mindlink. All the while, he had been communicating silently, and now she understood loud and clear. She shamefully lowered her gaze. He cupped her chin and lifted her face.
"What do you do when you are sad, moonpup?" he asked.
"I write my stories," she replied.
"That's what you should have done. I draw and paint you when I'm angry or sad," he whispered.
"I tried to write, but I couldn't concentrate. I… wanted to see you," she sputtered. Brandon kept quiet, continuing to stare into her eyes.
"You are the most beautiful Luna I have ever seen," he murmured.
She tried to look away, but he brought her gaze back.
"What part of my body did you enjoy touching?" she asked, sounding a bit naughty.
"Your hair; I like the silky texture," Brandon smiled. He kept the food on a cabinet beside his bed and pulled her in between his legs, holding her head firmly to his chest.
"Emma, I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear. "I lost control of myself yesterday."
"It was the best moment of my life," she replied.
"Me too," he said.
"Why were you crying then?" she asked.
"Five reasons," he whispered into her ear.