Chapter 146

Third Person

Emily curls up on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees as tears stream down her face. Her sobs seem to tear her from the inside out, her body hunched over and trembling. Her chest aches, hands shaking, and her thoughts make her head spin, throwing her into a spiral of despair.

All she wants—needs—is Logan. His arms, his voice, his unwavering presence. But instead, he's standing outside the locked bedroom door like a stranger. Someone who wishes to stop her from unveiling the truth and unearthing her wolf.

“Emily,” Logan’s voice comes through the wood, muffled but clear, “please open the door. Don’t do this…let’s talk about it, yeah? Don’t shut me out. Not again.”

“Go away,” she cries out, her voice hoarse. She covers her face with her hands, trying to stop the tears from falling out. It’s useless. “I said I need time. Just leave me alone, Logan.”

“I can’t,” he says, shaking his head. He presses his forehead against the wooden door, a sigh falling from his lips, “I can’t. Not when you’re like this. Not when I know what you’re thinking.”

She presses her forehead against her knees, trying to shut out his voice, the world, everything. The emotional agony doesn’t stop. His words slip through the cracks, tightening around her neck like barbed wire.

“I’m not the enemy,” Logan continues, “I’m trying to protect you and our baby. Can’t you see that, Emily?”

Emily lifts her head, eyes red and wide with disbelief. She stands up and walks towards the door, shaking her head as the tears freely fall from her eyes. She resists every urge to punch and kick the wooden pane, to break it down and turn her anger onto him.

“Protect me?” she chokes out. “By shutting me down? By dismissing everything I’m feeling?”

He sighs, the sound heavy with frustration and something deeper—fear. He does not want to admit to Emily, to the tears that roll down her cheeks. The evidence of her turmoil that he has clearly caused, but he knows that he has to do everything in his power to save her.

“No. By stopping you from doing something reckless. This… this witch—she nearly broke you yesterday!” Logan pleads through the door.

“She told me what I have to do,” Emily snaps, rising to her feet. Her hands clench into fists at her sides. “She gave me a chance to fix this, Logan. To save us.”

“To save us?” he echoes, incredulous. “You think risking your life—our child’s life—is saving us?”

“She knows what she’s doing,” Emily insists, wiping her tears away, “she’s the only one who understands what’s happening to me.”

There’s a pause. One that makes Emily’s ears ring. A silence so ugly and deafening that it almost makes Emily regret even telling Logan about this in the first place.

Ignorance is bliss, right?

“Then help me understand. Talk to me, Emily. Tell me what she said that convinced you to trust her after everything,” his voice is much softer now. Gentle and supple like the supportive husband he should be.

Emily presses her palm against the cool surface, imagining his hand on the other side. Her voice trembles as she speaks, “I can’t explain it in a way that would make sense to you.”

“Try me,” Logan’s words slip past the door and pierce Emily’s ears like a melody she simply does not wish to listen to.

“She alluded to things,” Emily whispers. “Things no one else could know other than fate. About the baby. About me. About what’s coming.”

“She’s manipulating you,” Logan says firmly. “Wanda said you had to push yourself to the edge just to ‘see clearly.’ That’s not help. That’s control.”

“You don’t get it! I felt something when I did what she said. It was real. I’m not crazy!” Emily bangs the side of her fist against the door. It sends shocks up her arm.

“I never said you were,” Logan replies quickly, “but that doesn’t mean she’s right. Just because something feels real doesn’t mean it’s safe.”

“She’s not asking me to do anything dangerous,” Emily lies, knowing it’s not entirely true. “She’s trying to guide me.”

There’s silence again. The long, slow kind that builds pressure in her ears and heart.

“I forbid you from going to that address, Emily.”

“You what?” Emily’s blood turns to ice. She backs away from the door, staring at it like it’s grown teeth.

“I can’t let you do this,” he says. “Not after what happened last time. Not after how you came back, shaking, barely able to breathe. I won’t watch you fall apart again.”

“You don’t get to forbid me,” she spits, fury lighting her voice. “You’re not my father, Logan. You’re my partner—or you’re supposed to be.”

“I’m your husband,” he agrees. “It means I’m responsible for making sure you don’t do something reckless. I’m trying to save you from yourself.”

“No,” she snaps. “You’re trying to control me. That’s not love, Logan. That’s fear.”

“I am afraid!” he yells suddenly, voice cracking through the door like a thunderclap. “I’m terrified, Emily! I love you. I’ve watched you slip farther and farther away from me and I don’t know how to bring you back. This isn’t just about you anymore—it’s about our baby. And I can’t stand by while you hand your body, your mind, over to some woman who plays with smoke and mirrors!”

“You’re locking me in,” she says flatly.

“I don’t want to,” he replies. “I just want you to see reason.”

“So you are locking me up. Like I’m some dangerous animal,” Emily laughs bitterly.

“I’m trying to keep you safe,” Logan closes his eyes, heart aching from the constant twisting of words and motivations.

“No, you’re trying to make me obedient.”

“That’s not fair,” Logan says in a hushed voice, the bitter taste of betrayal on his tongue, “and you know it.”

She slides down the wall, pulling her knees to her chest again.

“What are you so afraid of, really?” Emily asks.

The question hangs in the air like the blade of a guillotine. A trap that she has set for her husband. Logan doesn’t answer right away.

Finally, his voice comes low, strained. “I’m afraid of losing you.”

“What if you already have?” she whispers.

His silence this time is a wound.

They sit on opposite sides of the door for what feels like hours, breathing in tandem but worlds apart. Emily’s tears have dried, but her chest feels hollow. Logan hasn’t moved. She can feel him there, like a shadow—torn between leaving and staying, between pushing and pulling.

“I didn’t want this,” she says finally, “I just wanted your support. Even if you didn’t understand.”

“I am supporting you,” he says. “By being the wall when you want to throw yourself into fire.”

“What if I need to walk through the fire?” Emily shakes her head. She covers her face with her hands, the tears beginning to well in her eyes again.

“Then we walk together,” Logan replies. “Let me shield you from the flames.”

She wants to believe him. She wants to trust that his fear isn’t the same thing as control. But the memory of Wanda’s words echo louder.

The door must open, even if others try to keep it shut.

“I can’t stay in this room forever,” Emily murmurs.

“I know,” Logan says.

“I’m going to leave, Logan. I don’t know when. But I will.”

He hesitates. “Then I’ll be here. Hoping you don’t.”

She closes her eyes, and for a moment, the door between them feels like the only solid thing left in her world.