Chosen as the Cursed Alpha's Seventh Bride

Emilia’s POV

I watched Sebastian’s face darken as he ended the call. Something was very wrong.

"What happened?" I asked, setting down my spoon.

"Tiffany knows about Fynn’s girlfriend."

I blinked. "Wait. Fynn has a girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"Are you kidding me?" Anger flared up in my chest. "If he’s been seeing someone, why the hell has he been stringing Tiffany along all this time? She’s been pining after him for years, thinking he felt the same way. The only reason she never said anything was that she didn’t want to put him in an awkward spot with the pack."

"It’s not Fynn’s fault." Sebastian’s voice was strained. "I’m the one who told him to keep it quiet."

I stared at him. "Why would you do that?"

"Because of Tiffany."

"What about Tiffany?"

A cold dread started pooling in my stomach. Sebastian looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He took a breath. "Tiffany has a brain tumor. We found it when she was four. It’s small, but it’s in a critical spot. The doctors said there was no way to remove it safely until she was much older."

The room seemed to tilt. "A brain tumor?"

"Yes." His voice cracked a little. "When a werewolf shifts, the skull changes with the rest of the body. With a tumor sitting where hers is, we were terrified the shift would crush it, that the pressure alone would kill her the moment she changed." He exhaled. "But she shifted. Clean, on her eighteenth birthday. We were so relieved we could breathe again."

"Then we took her in for a quiet follow-up scan afterward," he went on, his voice dropping. "And the doctors told us the tumor is still growing. Slowly, but it’s there. It’s starting to press on the nerves, starting to touch her cognition." He paused, his green eyes haunted. "We didn’t ask for specifics. We were too afraid to know exactly how it might change her."

I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. "Does she know?"

"No. We decided it was better if she didn’t. The emotional weight alone could make things worse."

Suddenly, fragments of memory clicked into place. All those times Tiffany complained about headaches. The white pills she always carried. When I’d asked about them, she’d shrugged it off, saying she’d been hit by a car as a kid and it left her with some lingering issues.

My throat tightened. That bright, mischievous girl who joked and laughed her way through every day had been walking around with a ticking time bomb in her head, and she didn’t even know it.

"So you made Fynn hide his relationship until she turns twenty-five," I said slowly. "Until after the surgery."

"Yes. We can’t risk her spiraling before then. Any serious stress could trigger complications."

"Does your mother know? About Tiffany’s feelings for Fynn?"

"She knows everything."

Tears stung my eyes. I pushed back from the table. "We need to go home. Now."

"There are no flights tonight. We’ll have to leave first thing tomorrow."

"Sebastian."

"My mother will take care of her," he said firmly, though I could hear the worry threading through his words. "And honestly, after this, we may need to move the surgery up."

"Can’t we just do it right away?"

"The risk is much higher if we operate ahead of schedule."

I shook my head, frustrated. "I don’t get it. Why wait until she’s twenty-five?"

"The doctors say twenty-five is the best age to operate. Until then, she can’t take any real emotional shock, or the blood flow to her brain spikes and puts her life at risk. Tiffany’s tumor is rare, and it’s tangled up with the nerves. Her body has to be fully mature, her wolf fully settled, before they can risk cutting it out. Any earlier, and we could lose her on the operating table."

The words hung between us like a death sentence.

That night Sebastian’s friend Kaito hosted a farewell dinner in our honor. I didn’t want to go. The thought of making small talk and pretending everything was fine felt impossible. But Sebastian insisted.

On the way to the banquet, I stared out the car window at the passing crowds, and an inexplicable sadness settled over me like a heavy cloak.

Tiffany loved Fynn. Lily loved Scott. And I... I loved Sebastian, who still carried a torch for Abigail Tanner.

Love was a cruel, twisted thing for all of us. Duty, loyalty, and heartbreak pressed down on our shoulders until it felt like we couldn’t breathe.

After the dinner, I escaped to the hot springs, sinking into the steaming water and letting it scald the ache out of my chest. I stayed until the hotel owner appeared at the edge of the pool.

"Miss," she said gently. "Your husband asked me to tell you to come back to your room."

Reluctantly, I climbed out, wrapped myself in a robe, and headed back. When I pushed the door open, Sebastian was standing by the window, his expression unreadable.

"Why did you call me back?" I asked, grabbing a towel and squeezing the water from my hair.

"Someone called you."

His tone was ice-cold. I frowned. "Who?"

"Damien Zordon."

My whole body went rigid. I made myself meet his gaze and keep my expression neutral. "How do you know it was him?"

"Because I answered your phone."

Damn it.

I kept my voice casual, even as my mind raced. "Oh. What did he say?"

Sebastian’s green eyes locked onto mine, sharp and dangerous. "Before I tell you what he said, don’t you think you should tell me how you know him? Or better yet, when the hell you met my cousin?"