Chapter 26: Malice

As Ava, George, and Kael walked away with satisfaction, the crowd parted with silent awe and respect. The female and male onlookers' faces reflected a mix of emotions - shock, admiration, and a hint of fear.

Emily, still reeling from her defeat, seethed with frustration and humiliation. Her mates, concerned for her well-being, rushed to her side to offer assistance.

However, Emily's anger boiled over, and she swatted their hands away. "Get away from me! Don't touch me!" she shrieked, struggling to her feet.

Her voice was thick with rage, her face twisted in a scowl. The onlookers, still lingering, couldn't help but cast her one last glance before dispersing.

Emily's mates exchanged worried glances, unsure how to calm their enraged partner. "Emily, please -" one of them began.

But Emily cut him off, her words dripping with venom. "You all just stood there while I got beaten! Not one of you lifted a finger to help me!"

Her anger and shame hung in the air, a palpable force that made her mates take a step back. The onlookers, now departing, whispered among themselves, the scene etched in their memories.

The humiliation still seared Emily's mind, a burning ember that refused to fade. Memories of Ava's merciless blows and her own helplessness lingered, taunting her like a relentless specter.

As she recalled the scene, Emily's frustration boiled over. She couldn't comprehend why her mates had stood idly by, frozen in fear, while Ava overpowered her.

The image of herself, lying in the dirt, was etched in her mind like a scar. Ava's words, each one a dagger to her pride, echoed relentlessly.

Emily had invested months in attempting to win George over, not just for his strength, but for the power and status he represented. As the likely successor to tribe leadership, George was the ultimate prize.

In her mind, Emily had envisioned herself ruling the tribe alongside George, her position elevated above all others. Though she knew she wasn't the most beautiful female, George's status would have compensated for her perceived shortcomings.

The onlookers, who had gathered to witness the confrontation, still lingered in Emily's mind. Their silent judgment and pity were a constant reminder of her failure.

Their faces, etched with a mix of shock, pity, and mockful smiles, haunted Emily. She couldn't shake the feeling that they had witnessed her downfall, her humiliation.

As Emily stood, her anger and shame simmering just below the surface, she couldn't help but wonder: would she ever regain her standing within the tribe?

The hefty weight of her defeat threatened to consume Emily, leaving her feeling lost and broken. Her hopes, once soaring with ambition, now lay shattered, crushed beneath Ava's feet as she claimed both George and Emily's dignity.

The pain of her defeat cut deep, a wound that would take time to heal. Emily's mind reeled, struggling to come to terms with the harsh reality: she had been outmatched, outmaneuvered, and outdone.

As Emily struggled to regain her composure, the harsh reality of her situation sank in like a cold, unforgiving stone. Her own mates, eleven in total, had proven woefully inadequate in the face of Ava's powerful protectors.

Emily's mind seethed with frustration and disappointment as she compared her mates to Ava's. Kael and George, Ava's two protectors, were strong, fierce, and loyal. They had defended Ava with their lives, never hesitating to confront Emily and her mates.

In stark contrast, Emily's own mates had cowered in fear, paralyzed by Kael's mere presence. They had failed to defend her, failed to fight for her, and failed to demonstrate even a semblance of bravery.

Emily's expectations had been clear: loyalty, bravery, and a willingness to fight for her at any cost. But her mates had betrayed her, their cowardice a slap in the face.

A surge of contempt welled up within Emily, directed squarely at her eleven weak mates. She felt anger, hate, and a deep sense of betrayal. How could they have failed her so utterly?

The onlookers, who had witnessed the entire confrontation, seemed to fade into the background as Emily's emotions consumed her. She was aware of their presence, but her focus remained fixed on her mates' cowardice.

Emily's gaze swept across her mates, her eyes blazing with fury. She could feel her anger simmering, a potent brew that threatened to boil over at any moment.

The air was heavy with tension as Emily's mates sensed her wrath. They hung their heads in shame, avoiding eye contact, but Emily's gaze lingered on each of them, her contempt and anger burning brighter with every passing moment.

Emily's gaze lingered on her mates, her contempt and anger burning brighter with every passing moment. With a last, scathing glare, she silently vowed to rid herself of them. These weak, one-bar-lined males were useless, nothing but burdens to her now.

In Emily's mind, their cowardice was unforgivable. They had failed to defend her, failed to fight for her, and failed to demonstrate even a semblance of bravery. Their weakness was a liability, a threat to her own power and status.

Emily's thoughts turned to her future, her desire for revenge against Ava burning brighter than ever. She needed strength, allies who wouldn't falter or flinch in the face of a threat. She required males with the power and courage to stand by her side, to fight for her, and to exact revenge on Ava.

With a calculating gaze, Emily assessed her current situation. She knew that discarding her current mates wouldn't be easy, but she was willing to pay the cost. She would seek out stronger, more powerful males, ones who would turn the tables in her favor, giving her the strength she needed to rise and reclaim her dignity.

Emily's mind whirled with plans and strategies, her ambition and desire for power driving her forward. She would stop at nothing to achieve her goals, to claim the power and status that she felt was rightfully hers.

As Emily stood, her eyes blazing with determination, her mates cowered before her, sensing the change in her demeanor. They knew that they had failed her, and they feared the consequences of their cowardice.

Emily's pride brusied as deeply as her battered body. Her limbs ached, her muscles throbbing with each step. But it was her pride that hurt the most - the knowledge that she had been defeated, humiliated, and left to pick up the pieces.

As she limped back toward her den, her mates trailed silently behind her. They knew better than to approach her, to offer comfort or condolences. Emily's anger and frustration were palpable, a living, breathing entity that seemed to pulse with every step.

But Emily's resolve solidified with each painful step. Her mind consumed by thoughts of revenge, she vowed to wait, to bide her time, and to build her forces. She would gather her strength, her allies, and her resources, and when she was ready, she would strike.

Ava may have won today, but Emily would make sure she'd pay for it someday. The thought burned within her, a slow-burning fire that would eventually consume her every waking moment.

Emily's eyes narrowed, her gaze fixed on some point in the distance. She could feel her anger and frustration coalescing into something harder, something more determined. She would not rest until she had claimed her revenge, until she had restored her pride and her honor.

The silence that surrounded Emily was oppressive, heavy with the weight of her unspoken threats. Her mates knew better than to cross her, to provoke her further. They trailed behind her, their eyes cast downward, their faces somber.

As Emily approached her den, she felt a sense of relief wash over her. She would retreat, regroup, and recharge. She would tend to her wounds, both physical and emotional, and she would begin to plan her revenge.

The wait would be long, but Emily was patient. She would bide her time, watching and waiting, until the perfect moment to strike. And when she did, Ava would know the true meaning of fear.

As Emily entered her den, she was met with an oppressive silence. Her mates, still trailing behind her, hesitated at the entrance, unsure of what to do next.

Emily's gaze swept across the den, her eyes lingering on each of her mates. She could feel their fear, their uncertainty, and their shame.

Without a word, Emily turned and made her way to the far corner of the den. She collapsed onto a pile of furs, her body aching with exhaustion.

Her mates, still hesitant, slowly began to disperse, each one finding a quiet corner of the den to retreat to.

The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive. 

Emily's anger and frustration still simmered just below the surface, waiting to boil over at any moment.

But for now, she simply lay there, her eyes fixed on the ceiling of the den. She was already planning her next move, As the hours passed, Emily's mates slowly began to stir. They moved quietly, trying not to disturb Emily, but she was aware of their every move.

She watched them, her eyes narrowed, her mind working overtime. She was already thinking about how she could kill them off and replace them with a stronger, more powerful mates who would stand by her side and fight for her.

The thought sent a surge of excitement through Emily's veins. She would start with the one bar lined mates of hers, She was already thinking about how she could take down Ava and reclaim her rightful place as the dominant female.

And as she lay there, her eyes fixed on the ceiling of the den, Emily couldn't help but smile, she was willing to do whatever it took to achieve her goal. She was willing to wait, to plan, and to scheme.

And when the time was right, she would strike.