Burn Me.

1. EMILY

Sleek oak wood reflected the late rays of sunlight that were slipping through faded blue curtains.  Not a single sway of wind moved the old fabric; although the window was wide open.  The desk was older than the drapes; however.  It had been around –in that exact room, actually- since before Emily was born.  It was probably there much earlier than that, though, seeing as the varnish was chipping, and the trim was loosening around the edges. 

But Emily loved that desk.

If one was to run their hand lightly over the surface, they would feel the faint engravings in the wood, left there from one too many nights of hard pressed pencil tips, shoved down as a dutiful student scrambled to finish her homework. 

There was so much character in furniture, she decided, surveying the old wood lightly.  So many memories were left behind; attached to the pieces of expensive wood, and forever left behind when one aged.  Typically, she could spend hours, just sitting at her desk and reading.  Sometimes, she imagined the places that her desk had been before; her parents having purchased it at an antique dealer's home sale many years before.  If it could speak, it would say the most interesting things, she whispered silently.  But it couldn't.  And so whatever happiness, whatever tragedy, whatever cheating, lies, and new lives it had seen, would all be left behind, kept closely enclosed within it's old, wooden surfaces.

Emily ran her fingers along the lightly pressed words with a light sigh, and settled back into her wooden backed chair, glancing out the open window.

If she ever saw another family reunion, it would be far too soon.  Ally's parents were coming, and the entire house was in an uproar.  She could see, or hear, anyone and everyone scrambling around to ensure that the house was in pristine condition for the arrival of the parents. 

She didn't see what the big deal was.  They were simply normal, everyday visitors; that was, of course, if you excluded the fact that they lied to their daughter about her heritage, and managed to allow her to slip through their fingers, without a single phone call, for at least four months.   

If she were Ally, she would be more aggravated with their arrival than excited.  But no, Ally was triply as excited as any normal human being would be.  Granted, she was a rather odd female to begin with, but Emily had assumed that she would achieve a slight regulatory normalcy once she took over the pack with Luke.

She had not.

The noise of the preparations was quite literally driving her insane.  She flicked a piece of dark hair away from her forehead, and huffed a sigh, once again, cursing her enhanced hearing.

If only she could turn this whole werewolf thing off.  If that were possible, though, she would probably have turned it off years ago. Permanently,

The sound of a door creaking, closer to her than the sounds from outside, sent her spiraling her head around lazily.  Her irritated gaze met the one of the tall, blonde haired boy at the door. 

Her mate was standing there, awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot under her gaze.  She had been told she was intimidating before, but she still found it amusing how she could unsettle a Beta wolf within a matter of a stern gaze.

It seemed that he wasn't planning on moving anytime soon from the entrance to Emily's pale yellow room, and she bit back another sigh.

It seemed that she did that far too much.  Maybe she was, in fact, as depressed as Claire was making her out to be.

"What do you want?" She felt her wolf inside cringing at her tone, but acted as though it didn't affect her.

"I-uh... Luke sent me.  He said, and I quote 'If I'm going through this hell, the least she can do is go down with me'."  He chuckled a little at the end, before sobering up quickly at my look.  "He thinks you owe him."

 

Me? Emily scoffed, to her inner demon.  As if.  More like he owes me for saving his precious mate's life.

"Right," she said aloud, standing abruptly.  "I suppose it would be a good time to move on out then."  Emily brushed past her chair, and stood in front of the very tall, very sullen looking man who hadn't moved from the doorway.  He gazed down questioningly, almost hopefully, but that hope was crushed when she waved her hand towards the doorway.  "Well, get out.  I'm not leaving you behind in my room." 

He sighed heavily, and moved out into the hall.  A brief pause showed his hesitation; however, he moved on down the corridor before she could ask what he wanted to say.  Not that she cared what he was going to say.  No.  Of course not.

He was nothing special, really.  Just her mate.  No importance.

Emily growled under her breath, and slammed her door shut against the pounding of her wolf's furiousness.

She could deal with this issue another day.  Now, it was time to face the symphony; one that could be bringing quite a bit of anger into the household.

The door bell rang.

And here came the battalions.