Replacement

Replacement
Emmalee 
Soren stops toward me slowly, his hands clasped behind his back. His hair is a black curtain framing his face and accentuating the intensity of his gaze. 
It suddenly occurs to me that he has changed these past few weeks. Cade's death, no doubt. The two of them were inseparable and had been since we all met for the very first time all those years ago. 
"First," he starts, "I'm going to tell you exactly what I want from you. Then, you'll be allowed to fling whatever demand you have at me."
"I want you to leave Brent out of your wicked plans! I see no point in you torturing me through Brent!"
Soren taps his chin and makes a face of exaggerated pensiveness. "Is that what you think? That I'm using him to provoke you? Wake up, Emmalee. Get your head out of your ass and think. That bastard has my name and as long as he's alive, he'll serve me. He'll do exactly as I say to compensate for the fact that I had to raise him all these years and pass him as my son when it's blatantly obvious that I was never his father. And after your mutt announced to the whole pack that Brent is his, things have become even more complicated for me."
A furrow forms between my brows and before I know it, I'm closing the distance between us. "If you think I'm going to let you use my son in this way, you're wrong, Soren! I'll never let it happen!"
He squares his jaw before reaching out and grabbing my face. "You won't even be able to help yourself when I'm through with you. You have other things to worry about, that I promise you!" Angrily, he releases me, wiping his hand on his pants while his eyes look daggers at me. "You cunt. You want to play the card of a good, perfect mother? If that boy had my face, you wouldn't give a rat's ass about him! That's the kind of mother you are!"
"That's not true!" I yell back. 
Soren raises a hand, annoyance pinching his features together. "That's beside the point, isn't it? For now, what matters is the changes that will happen."
Slowly, he makes his way to my side. I feel the swift change in energy and my skin crawls.
"Did anyone ever tell you how much you look like your brother?" he asks, his voice low.
I shudder from head to toe, unable to control myself. "Soren, what are you doing?" I ask in a shaky voice. 
"You smell like him, too," he adds. "That's what made fucking you bearable."
I close my eyes, hoping he'll release me, but something tells me that this is what he wanted to talk about. Inhaling deeply, I say, "If you think that I'll let you use my body, you're mistaken. You could have anyone—man or woman."
"I don't want anyone else. I want Cade."
"He's dead!" I hiss. 
"Not while you're here," he murmurs, pushing my hair to the side. "We'll have to get rid of this. We'll cut it so it's right above your shoulder, which is how long his hair was, and in my presence, you'll wear only his clothes. You'll be him. That's the price you'll pay for keeping that rogue alive. Refuse, and he's dead."
Pure horror washes over me. I use all my strength to push him away and whirl around to face him. "You bastard. You can't...you don't mean that, Soren. That's sick! I'll never be him! Never!"
"You will be him," he claims, stepping toward me. I back away so quickly that I land on the bed. My eyes remain on him, though, and the way his lips curve into a smile just makes me sick. "And you'll do a good job of it because failing to do so will lead to your lover's death."
Hot tears flood my eyes and my breaths become more shallow. This can't be. I can't be hearing this. Without another word, Soren turns on his heel and heads into the bathroom. I hear him rummaging inside for something and when he returns, he has a pair of scissors in his right hand. 
"Soren!" I exclaim, alarmed. 
"The choice is yours," he remarks. He seems so disinterested in this whole thing; does he really mean any of this? Is he doing this as a punishment? 
"Refuse and I'll give the order to have that mutt hanged right outside this window," he reminds me as he points at the window with the scissors. "It won't cost me a thing. I've wanted him dead for as long as I can remember. From the moment I met him, to be precise."
"Why?" I question, the word ripping through my throat and making it feel raw. Whatever he's saying would only make sense if he cared about me. 
"He challenged me. He was a nobody and he made me look like an idiot. That's enough for any man to hold a grudge, Emmalee. Now, for the hair."
I made my decision a long time ago—before I was captured, even. I'd do anything to keep Romain safe. I won't give Soren the satisfaction. 
Not now, not ever. 
A better plan will come up. I believe that with a fierceness that burns right through me. Looking up at his face, I near the edge of the bed—a silent acceptance of his morbid offer. 
I won't be doing anything that I didn't do before. 
And hair? It grows. 
I repeat these words to myself over and over again. Soren nears me, grabs a lock of my hair, and snips it. I watch as the white-blonde strand falls to the floor. Others follow it, and the sound of the scissors working is the only sound in the room for about ten minutes. 
Then, he's done and steps back to admire his work.
"Come," he says as he wraps his hand around my wrist and pulls me to my feet. Together, we walk to the bathroom—he got rid of my vanity, it seems. He wraps his hand around my neck and says, "Look. Do you see what I see now? The resemblance?"
I stare at my reflection and see it. How much like Cade I look. I never realized that we looked so alike before. My stomach twists into knots and I feel sick. 
Sick, sick, sick. 
He begins kissing my neck and I shudder before closing my eyes. I can't watch this. It's easier for me to block him out when my eyes are closed. 
I've never loved Soren—he's always repulsed me. 
"I think you'll play this role nicely," he murmurs against my skin. His hand moves down my front—skipping my breasts—before sliding to the back, where it cups my ass. "You'll never be him but it'll be enough to pass the time."
I grit my teeth hard as he drags me back into the bedroom. He flips the lights off before pushing me down on the bed. The whole time, I keep my eyes closed, refusing to look.