Impurities

Aurora stumbled back, her face contorting in pain, as she reflexively reached up to touch her stinging cheek.

"M.. mother." She struggled to speak, her eyes fixed on Charlotte, whose expression was twisted in anger and disgust.

"If you truly appreciate me as your mother, you would have done what I told you to! Bring me the emerald Zion necklace!" She raised her hand, ready to strike Aurora once again.

But as Aurora flinched, a bright, proud smile spread across her face, and she lowered her arm.

"Poor child," she cooed, her voice dripping with arrogance.

She placed a hand on Aurora's shoulder, patting her slowly in a soothing motion, trying to calm her down, but her words betrayed her true intention. "It is fortunate to see that, after all these years, you still know your place as my war dog."

Aurora swallowed hard, her body stiff with tension, and bowed her head respectfully. "Yes, mother."

Charlotte withdrew her hand, clearing her throat loudly. "Now, understand this. You and Sebastian are nothing to each other. Your focus should be on your children's life, which is entirely in my hands."

Aurora's lips trembled, but she slapped herself, stopping that shift, her eyes frozen and silent.

If La Mort were to intervene in her mother's usual cruelty, it would only make things more difficult for her.

"I will retrieve the necklace without approaching him, Mother," She bowed her head, showing respect, while Charlotte smiled mockingly, aware of her struggles.

"Good," she said curtly, turning away. "The emerald is crucial for my potions. It contains the necessary magical particles. Do not fail me, or you will receive a... gift."

Aurora clenched her fists, staring at her mother's back.

Charlotte sensed her hostility and turned to face her, a sly smile spreading across her face. This time, Aurora didn't mask her true feelings.

"Their heads in a pretty box, a gift from me to you." Charlotte taunted, her eyes gleaming with malice.

Aurora's control snapped, "You won't dare!" she spat, but Charlotte just raised an eyebrow, her expression daring Aurora to test her.

"Oh, but I dare," She burst into laughter, but stopped. Her eyes gleaming sternly. "Do you doubt my resolve, child?"

Aurora's eyes twitched. "Enough! Stop using my children as pawns to manipulate me! I am well aware that I have been brought back here to serve the family's interests once again. I am not resisting, so cease this charade!"

She had been trapped in this situation for a month, forced to return to her family's grasp, her every move dictated by their threats against her innocent children. The emotional toll was staggering.

Although she had regained her status as a noblewoman, as she had held before her marriage to the powerful Duke and Alpha, she didn't have freedom.

However, her children were fortunate to have the liberty she never knew at their age. They attended one of the best elite schools in France, enjoying privileges and a better life than she could have provided.

"Do you really think I would relinquish my hold on you?" Charlotte suddenly asked and bursted out laughing.

Aurora's eyes went wide. "No. You can't. You..."

Charlotte burst into uncontrollable laughter, relishing Aurora's distraught expression. "Be quiet! You are a pitiful sight."

Then she turned away once again. "They are the only leverage we need to keep you in line. Do not forget your purpose, you are our tool to rid the world of impurities. And your own children, dear Aurora, are among those impurities."

Aurora's jaw locked, her anger barely contained. She shut her eyes, biting back any retort that might imperil her children, her silence a fragile barrier.

Seeing her in this state, Charlotte laughed. "Have you had lunch, dear? Do take a break and eat. You will need your energy to fetch that necklace for me, no matter the cost." With a flick of her hair, she turned and sauntered off, leaving Aurora seething.

A sudden calmness came over Aurora's expression and posture. "Why not simply order me to eliminate the Duke?"

Charlotte halted, turning to face her with a bright smile. "Can you do that, dear?"

"I do not expect him to just hand the necklace over to me," Aurora muttered, avoiding her mother's piercing stare.

"Oh, look at you, acting like you are so familiar with the Duke's thoughts!" Charlotte teased.

Aurora's brow furrowed in irritation. "That is not the point, Mother," she snapped, her patience wearing thin.

"Do not spill his blood, just bring me the necklace. His time is coming. Not just yet." Charlotte finally turned and walked away without saying anything else.

Aurora sighed deeply, exhausted, and continued staring at the direction until she was out of sight.

"How long will this take?" She quickly made her way to the stairs and into her room.

As the door slammed shut behind her, she leaned back against it, her body tensing as her fingers dug into her cheeks. Her nails sharpened into claws, causing her to wince in pain as they sank deeply into her skin.

"This is all his fault!" She cried in rage, sinking her claws deeper into her skin, as if trying to tear out the anguish that burned within her.

"It's all his fault! It's all his fault! It's all his fault!" Her claws ravaged her skin, tearing deep gashes in her cheeks, and blood cascaded down her face and neck, dyeing her black dress a gruesome red.

Tears flooded her eyes, and she slid down the door, her back against the cold surface, her body shaking uncontrollably. Her shoulders shook, her chest heaved with sobs and her body crumpled to the floor.

'Weakling!' La Mort's voice screamed out in her head.

"Enough!" Aurora immediately reacted by yanking her claws from her cheeks and biting her lip hard, drawing blood.

Her ocean blue eyes opened slowly, welling up with tears, and she hesitantly released her lip.

She took a few deep breaths, her voice steadying. "That is enough. I won't let my children see me in this state."

And she stood up, walking into the bathroom sluggishly.

When she emerged, her face was unblemished, with no trace of the earlier self-inflicted wounds. Sighing, she dressed into a light, simple gown, her demeanor serene and collected.

She left the room and returned to the sitting room.

As she approached the door, eager to reunite with her children, a familiar smell wafted into her nostrils, causing her to halt.

Her hand hovered near the door handle, her heart rate quickening with a sense of unease.

A wave of sheer terror engulfed her, and a vivid, traumatic memory came flooding back, like a nightmare made real.

She was transported back to a horrific scene where a tiny, five-year-old girl was subjected to a brutal and merciless attack, stabbed repeatedly by a man in his early twenties.

The girl's ear-piercing screams continued to linger in her mind, making her feel queasy and lightheaded.

With immense effort, she resisted the overwhelming urge to clutch her churning stomach and succumb to the nausea that threatened to engulf her.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, her heart raced with dread, and her eyes widened in terror.

Before her stood a man, his face grotesquely scarred, his hazel eyes, cold and calculating, trying to bore into her soul. The dark hair, now flecked with gray, framed a face that was a twisted mockery of Charlotte's.

His voice, rough and intimidating, sent shivers down her spine as he uttered, "Hello there, Little sister."