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Chapter 52: Shadows of the Past 

Chapter 52: Shadows of the Past 

(Olivia’s POV) 

Memories flashed back to when I was eight years old. I followed my adoptive mother–a pack healer–back to the Stone Estate with Matriarch Evelyn Stone. 

The elderly Matriarch had treated me like her own granddaughter. Her kind amber eyes–the same eyes her grandson would inherit, though lacking the warmth hers contained–made me feel safe. 

“She looks like a little lost pup,” Matriarch Evelyn had chuckled. “We’ll have to fatten you up, won’t we, dear?” But Eleanor Stone, Ethan’s aunt, had watched from the shadows. Her cold eyes followed my every move. 

“Another stray?” she’d muttered. “This house isn’t a charity ward.” 

Matriarch Evelyn had silenced her with a single look. “The child stays, Eleanor. That’s final” 

For weeks, I’d been safe under the Matriarch’s protection. Then came the night of the full moon ceremony. Both my adoptive mother and Matriarch Evelyn were required to attend, leaving me alone in the vast estate. 

Eleanor seized her opportunity. 

“Come here, girl, she’d called, her voice falsely sweet. “I have something to show you.” 

Naive and trusting. I’d followed her to a heavy wooden door. Before I could react, she’d pushed me through it. I tumbled down stone steps into darkness. 

“Perhaps some time alone will teach you your place,” she’d sneered, slamming the door. 

The bolt had slid home with a sound that still haunted my nightmares. 

I’d screamed until my throat was raw. The darkness pressed in, suffocating in its completeness. 

Then came the sounds–tiny claws scratching against stone. The soft squeaking that signaled I wasn’t alone. 

“Please, I’d sobbed, pressing myself against the wall. “Please let me out!” 

Hours later, Matriarch Evelyn finally found me. I’d been huddled in a corner, trembling uncontrollably, my arms 

covered in rat bites. 

Her fury had been terrible to behold. “How dare you?” she’d thundered at Eleanor. “This child is under my 

protection!” 

But the damage had been done. My fear of dark, enclosed spaces–and especially of rats–had been cemented forever. 

Now, years later, I found myself trapped again in that same nightmare. Betrayed by the very person who should have protected me most. 

I pounded my fists against the heavy door. “Ethan! Please! You know I’m terrified of this place!” 

The silence that answered felt like a physical blow. 

“Please,” I begged, my voice dropping to a whisper. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I would never hurt a child–not Emma, not anyone.” 

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The rustling sounds grew louder, more insistent. My entire body trembled with terror as I pressed myself against the door. 

“Ethan,” I called again, weaker now. Remember when you found me in the alley? When those roques attacked me? You promised you’d never let anyone hurt me again.” 

Tears streamed down my face as I slid to the floor. The cold stone seemed to leach the warmth from my body, leaving me shivering and vulnerable 

Outside the door, I heard footsteps. My heart leaped with desperate hope. 

“Ethan? Is that you? Please let me out! 

No response came, but I could sense a presence on the other side of the door. Someone was listening to my suffering 

“Please,” I whispered, pressing my palm against the wood. “I’m begging you.” 

The footsteps retreated, growing fainter until they disappeared entirely. Whoever had been there–Ethan or someone else had abandoned me to my fate. 

I collapsed to the cold stone floor, despair washing over me in a crushing wave. My body curled instinctively into a tight ball, knees drawn to chest, arms wrapped around them. 

It was the same position I’d adopted countless times in the orphanage. When trying to protect myself from the cruelty of the world 

(Ethan’s POV) 

My phone vibrated against my hip as I paced the corridor outside Emma’s room. Dr. Bennett had assured me her condition was stable, but worry still gnawed at my insides. 

“Stone,” I answered curtly, recognizing Maxwell’s number. 

“Sir, I’ve completed the interrogation of Derek Savage,” Maxwell reported. 

I straightened, tension coiling in my muscles. “And?” 

“He’s confessed, sir. He acted independently–Mrs. Winters wasn’t involved.” 

Relief washed over me like a cool wave. Olivia was innocent. The tightness in my chest eased slightly. 

“Are you certain?” I pressed, needing absolute confirmation. 

“Yes, sir. The social media account was hacked. We’ve traced the intrusion to an internet café in Twin Bridges Territory. Mrs. Winters hasn’t been anywhere near there in months.” 

I closed my eyes briefly, guilt beginning to creep through my veins. I’d been so quick to condemn her, so ready to believe the worst. 

“Thank you, Maxwell. Continue the investigation. I want to know who’s behind this.” 

As I ended the call, my phone immediately lit up with Victoria’s name. My thumb hesitated over the screen before I answered 

“How is she?” I asked, concern for Emma overriding all other thoughts. 

Victoria’s voice came through, tight with worry. “The doctor says she’s stable, but I’m worried, Ethan. She doesn’t look right.” 

*I’ll be 1 

there in a minute,” I promised, already moving toward Emma’s room. 

The thought of Olivia flickered briefly in my mind, but Victoria’s next words pushed it aside. 

“Please hurry. She keeps asking for you. 

(Victoria’s POV) 

I ended the call with Ethan, a small smile playing at the corners of my lips. Everything was proceeding perfectly 

Pacing the length of my bedroom at Rosewood Haven, I tapped my fingers rhythmically against my thigh. Olivia Winters would remain in that dungeon for as long as I needed her to. 

The memory of her terrified pleas from behind the door brought me intense satisfaction. After years of 

playing second fiddle to her, it was finally my turn to win. 

I paused before the mirror, arranging my features into a mask of maternal concern. The transformation was flawless–eyes widened with worry, lips trembling slightly. 

“Perfect,” I whispered to my reflection 

Emma lay sleeping in her bed, her small face peaceful despite the bandages on her arm. I approached her silently, my mind calculating. 

The doctor had warned that her wounds needed to be kept dry and warm. A cold bath would be the worst possible thing for her recovery. 

Tm sorry, sweetheart,” I murmured, gently lifting her sleeping form. “Mommy needs you to be sick for a little 

while. 

She stirred slightly as I carried her to the adjoining bathroom, but didn’t wake. I filled the tub with cold water, then carefully lowered her into it, nightgown and all. 

The shock of the cold water jolted her awake. Her eyes flew open, a cry of distress escaping her lips. 

“Shh, Emmy.” I soothed, holding her firmly in the water despite her struggles. “It’s just a bath to help with the fever.” 

“It’s c–cold,” she whimpered, her small body shivering violently. 

When her lips began to turn blue, I finally lifted her from the water. Her skin was like ice, her body trembling uncontrollably. 

“M–mommy,” she sobbed as I wrapped her in a towel. “I d–don’t feel g–good.” 

I pressed my lips to her forehead, feeling the chill of her skin. Soon enough, that chill would turn to burning fever as her body fought the infection I’d just ensured would take hold. 

“I know, baby,” I whispered, cradling her close. “Mommy’s going to get help.” 

I dressed her in dry clothes quickly, then laid her back in bed. Within minutes, her shivering had intensified, and I could feel heat beginning to radiate from her small body. 

It was time. 

I hurried from the room, making sure to slam the door loud enough for the sound to carry. My footsteps echoed in the hallway as I ran toward Ethan’s guest room. 

Shade 

“Ethan I cried, pounding on his door with frantic urgency. “Ethan, please!” 

The door swung open immediately, revealing his concerned face. 

Victoria? What’s wrong?” 

I clutched at his arm, letting tears fill my eyes. “Ethan. Ethan… My voice broke with practiced desperation. “Emmy has a high fever… I think her wounds are getting infected! 

His expression hardened with determination, all thoughts of Olivia clearly forgotten as he pushed past me 

toward Emma’s room. 

Ethan burst into Emma’s room, crossing to her bed in two swift strides. His hand touched her forehead, and I 

saw alarm flash across his face at the unnatural heat. 

“We need to get her to the hospital,” he said, already gathering her small form into his arms. 

Emma whimpered, her eyes fluttering open. “Daddy?” she murmured weakly. 

“I’m here, Emmy,” he soothed, his voice gentle in a way it never was with Lily. “You’re going to be okay.” 

As he carried her from the room, I followed close behind, my hand clutching Emma’s as if I couldn’t bear to be 

separated from her. 

Behind us, Rosewood Haven stood silent, its shadows concealing the dungeon where Olivia Winters lay 

forgotten. 

(Matriarch Evelyn’s POV) 

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the Grand Reception Hall. I sat in my favorite chair, my weathered hands resting lightly on the ornately carved armrests. 

“Is everything prepared for Olivia’s visit, Bernard?” I asked. 

Bernard Sheppard, our head butler for over thirty years, nodded respectfully. “Yes, Matriarch. The venison pastries have been prepared to Mrs. Winters‘ preference, and the moonlight tea is steeping.” 

I smiled, satisfaction evident in my eyes. “Excellent. She should be arriving shortly.” 

As the minutes ticked by, my brow furrowed slightly. Olivia had never been late for our w****y tea–not once in all the years we had maintained this tradition. 

“Bernard, what time is it?” I asked, concern creeping into my voice. 

“Nearly four o’clock, Matriarch. 

I frowned, reaching for the phone on the table beside me. This isn’t like her at all.” 

My fingers, slightly gnarled with arthritis but still surprisingly nimble, dialed Olivia’s number from memory. The call went straight to voicemail. 

“How strange,” I murmured, setting the phone down. “Olivia always answers my calls.” 

Bernard stepped forward, his own concern evident in the slight furrow of his brow. “Shall I try to reach Alpha Stone, Matriarch?” 

I nodded, my expression growing more troubled by the moment. “Yes, Bernard. Contact my grandson immediately. It’s not like Olivia to miss our afternoon together without word.” 

Chapter 53: The Matriarchy 

Chapter 53: The Matriarch’s Fury