Chapter 10

Sophia Hope

I study the business card in my hand as I sit on the park bench.

Alex Stone.

I didn't even know that was his full name.

Closing my eyes, I tilt my head back and let the cool breeze wash over my face. I feel so conflicted inside.

If it had been any other person, I might have considered that offer, but if I work with Alex and let him sponsor me, there's a very good chance he will discover who I am—even if he agrees to my terms of anonymity. And at this point, I can't trust him not to take advantage of that.

It's a bad idea. But the money he is offering could change my life. I would be able to buy my freedom from the South Alliance much sooner than I expected.

Hearing the crunch of grass under somebody's feet, I open my eyes and lift my head. The blonde man approaching me prompts me to emit a low groan.

Noah.

How does he always figure out where I am?

I don't know what he wants from me. Every time I see him, he has something for me and is eager to strike up a conversation. Nobody's ever given me this much attention, and I don't know what to do with it. Anxious now, I quickly hide Alex's card in my jeans pocket and give Noah a small smile as he reaches me. There's no point in antagonizing him; I've seen his ugly side.

He gives me a questioning look. "Can I take a seat?"

"I can't think of a reason why you can't," I shrug.

I really can't think of a reason. I've tried.

He sits down next to me and spreads his arm over the back of the bench. "This town isn't a bad place, is it?"

I watch the children run around and play on the swings. "It's alright. A little dull, but fine."

"Are you happy here?"

When I glance at him, I see the sincere curiosity in his eyes.

"No." The answer feels torn from me.

Noah blinks. "You've never applied for a transfer."

"Because I can't." I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my arms on top of them. "You know why I was sent here. Your father told me this would be my prison for the rest of my life."

Noah doesn't reply right away. I glance at him from the corner of my eye only to see him staring straight ahead, his jaw set. "Father did tell me what happened at the orphanage. But I didn't realize he'd given you a life sentence."

I let out a quiet sigh. The idea of having to spend the rest of my days in this dismal town is depressing. Perhaps I should take Alex up on his offer. I can always back out once I manage to save up the exact amount of money I need to escape this pack and this place. Of course, if I buy my freedom from the South Alliance, I won't be able to stay on this continent anymore. To remain here, I need to be a part of one of the Alliances. The rules are different on other continents.

"Have you made any friends here?" Noah asks suddenly.

"Not really," I admit. "I'm not really accepted in this town, being an incomplete wolf and all. If I try to take part in any pack activities, I'm ignored." I throw him an accusing look. "That must amuse you."

I don't know where that last part came from, perhaps a place of bitterness and anger. But Noah's head lowers, and he leans forward, intertwining his fingers.

"I know I put you through hell, Sophia. But I'm no longer a child. I'm fully aware of what I did to you. I'm trying to make amends here. You're not obliged to forgive me, but can you please try to look past the child I was and see my sincerity? I'm going to be the Alpha one day. I want to be a better one than my father."

His voice is quiet and low, and I feel a little bit ashamed of my attitude. "Sorry."

He shakes his head. "I'm not asking you to apologize. Like I said, I can understand your feelings. It's easy to hurt somebody, but trying to win back their broken trust is never an easy journey. Father wanted to come here himself when he heard of the black wolf sighting, but I offered to come in his stead. I wanted to see you."

Mention of the black wolf makes me go still. I try to keep my voice normal as I ask, "Any luck with the search?"

"Nope. At this point, I'm inclined to believe that Freddy truly was exaggerating. However, even under harsh interrogation, he has maintained his story. I'll need to give my father some answers when I get home."

He folds and then unfolds his hands. When I don't say anything, he keeps talking.

"I went through extensive Alpha training when I turned fifteen. I was taught by two of the pack elders. Even my own father wasn't allowed to interfere in my training. That's how it always is: two pack elders are selected to train the next Alpha. I didn't realize what an immature and selfish person I was till I started receiving the training. Words like ‘fairness' and ‘justice' never existed in my vocabulary, Sophia. There was a lot I had to reflect on. I also had to consider the reasons why I treated you the way I did."

I wrap my arms around my knees, pulling them closer to me. "You don't have to talk about it." Talking is not going to change the past, after all.

It seems that Noah wants to, though. "You're right. I don't have to talk about it, but I think you need to hear this, Sophia. When my mother died, my father brought your mother home just a few weeks later. I was not allowed to see my father for months. Then, out of the blue, I heard that a child had been born and my father was taking care of her. I met you and your mother two months after your birth."

My eyes widen and my head whips around to face him. "Say that again."

He looks startled. "Which part?"

"About you seeing my mother after I was born! Alpha Black told me she died during childbirth."

"No, she was alive. She died when you were a few months old."

"A few months?" I echo, shocked. "How did she die, then?"

He shrugs. "I really can't tell you. I guess there were some complications during your birth that didn't get resolved. All I know is that I was sent away when she got sick, and when I returned, you had already been sent to the pack orphanage, and your mother was dead and buried."

I stare at him. "So, my mother held me when I was born?"

It's a weird question, but for some reason it matters to me that there was once someone out there who loved me.

"When I first met her, she was holding you," Noah tells me slowly. "She adored you. She was the one who gave you your name: Sophia Hope."

My eyes burn with emotion, and I look away, not wanting Noah to see the tears in them.

"I never learned how she passed away," he continues, "but I remember that I resented her—and you—because I assumed she had been my father's lover. By the time I found out that was not true, you had already been sent here."

The only thing I've ever known about my mother is that she died during childbirth. Nobody would talk to me about her, and the few times I tried to ask Alpha Black, I was shunned. So, to hear that someone actually knew my mother and the circumstances surrounding my birth has my heart pounding.

"Who was my father?"

Noah's voice is careful. "I don't know, Sophia. After that day at the creek when my father dragged me away, he told me your mother used to be an old friend of his. He had found her injured and your father dead. He had brought her back to the pack so she could safely give birth. But I feel like there's more to the story than he told me. When I met your mother, my father took you from her arms and held you. He sat in the chair and gave you a bottle while your mother greeted me. And after she passed away, he put you in the orphanage. My personal belief is that my father had feelings for her, and after her death, he couldn't bear to look at you. So, he sent you away."

I press my lips together, trying to absorb this new information. Truth be told, I cannot imagine Alpha Black loving anybody.

Noah isn't done. He turns to face me, his expression heavy. "I always believed my father killed my mother so he could bring his mistress into our home. I've since been proven wrong. As a child, I lashed out at another child who was in a less fortunate position than me. At the time, I didn't think about how cruel my actions were, or how unfair. I didn't care that you were suffering, just as long as I was no longer suffering. I shouldn't have done any of it. I can't imagine how many scars I left on you. Lately, it's been weighing on my conscience. I know I can't do anything about the past, but I want you to know that if you need anything now, I'll help you."

I wish I could call him a liar, but it doesn't seem like he is one. It seems like his heart is heavy with the burden of the past.

"It's okay." It's not easy to say these words, but it appears that Noah has changed, and perhaps it's time for me to let go of my resentment. "I forgive you."

He gives me a surprised look. "That easily? You don't want to make me suffer?"

An ironic smile forms on my lips. "How am I supposed to make you suffer? I can't do anything to you, Noah. The power disparity between us is too great for me to hurt you."

My words are blunt, and they seem to have a bigger impact than I thought they would because Noah flinches.

"You're right," he says softly.

We sit in silence for a few minutes. I am consumed with thoughts of my mother.

"There is something you can do for me," I begin hesitantly. "My mother. Can you tell me about her? What did she look like? What was she like? Did she love me?"

Noah fiddles with his fingers, thinking over my questions, and then he gives me a smile. "Like I said before, she loved you. She adored you, Sophia. And she was beautiful. She had long, silver hair that looked like a waterfall when it was down. Her eyes were a light purple—an uncommon color, but it suited her. And she was very kind. Even when I was filled with hate toward her, she was nothing but kind to me. On my first visit, she was eating an apple, and she cut me a slice and handed it to me. I don't know why I remember that, but I do."

From the picture he's painting, I can almost see her, but I never will.

"Do you know where she's buried?"

"At the edge of the town, near the creek, actually," Noah tells me. "It's a small, unmarked grave under a willow tree."

I stare at the ground in front of us. "So, she wasn't given a proper pack burial?"

"I suppose not." He sounds regretful. "From what I've been told, my father buried her quietly."

"I see."

Those don't sound like the actions of a man who was in love with someone. Pack burials are an important ritual because we believe the spirit returns to the Goddess. Certain rites have to be carried out for that to happen.

He never gave my mother any of that.

Noah can believe whatever he wants, but I stand firm in my own beliefs about his father. Alpha Black is incapable of loving another person. I find it very hard to believe that he cared about my mother. If he did, he would not have treated me the way he did. And he never would have buried her without conducting the proper pack rituals.

"I should get going," I say after a few moments. "My break ends in five minutes."

I get to my feet and am about to walk away when I feel Noah's hand curl around mine, stopping me in my tracks.

"Sophia?"

I don't like him touching me. I don't like anyone touching me.

When I look down at him, he's watching me intently.

"I'm in town for a couple of weeks. Do you mind showing me around?"

I blink at him. "It's a very small town. What do you want me to show you?"

He stares at me, and then a sheepish laugh escapes his mouth. He releases my hand. "Never mind."

"I'm serious," I protest. "Do you want to see something in particular? Because I don't know what there is to show you."

He laughs even harder now, waving his hand at me. "You can go back to work. I'll figure out another way."

Another way to do what?

Wondering if he's losing his mind, I make my way back to the bar.

Ever since Noah dealt with him, I haven't seen Freddy around. I haven't even seen his friends around. I do know that Freddy's father really is on probation; I had to drop off some documents for Elsa at Town Hall, and I saw Freddy's mother. She had circles under her eyes and looked haggard. I didn't feel any pity for her. I wish I could ask Noah to get justice for Drew, but that's not my place.

I have to say that the presence of the Alpha Successor has had a positive impact on Oakrest. The pack security team was treating this place as if they run it, but with Noah here, that doesn't seem to be the case any longer. They don't dare flaunt their authority now.

I get to work, mixing and serving drinks, stepping in to wait on tables when the servers get too busy. At the back of my mind, I'm contemplating Alex's offer. I'm also thinking about my mother and what I've just learned from Noah. As a result, I'm quite distracted and making plenty of mistakes, but for some reason, nobody says anything to me about it. I wonder why that is.

When I stop by Elsa's office to drop off the new delivery forms, she looks a little stressed.

"You good, Elsa?"

She looks up at me, and I can see the desire in her eyes to say something. But then, she shakes her head. "It's nothing."

Elsa and I aren't very close, but she's been good to me ever since I met her, and when things are going wrong in my life, she always helps me out. So, it bothers me that she's upset about something and I can't do anything for her.

I head into the kitchen to hand the signed form to Jack for the meat delivery tonight.

Jack and Elsa are old friends, so I ask, "Have you noticed that Elsa seems a little off today?"

Jack shrugs. "She's fine. She just got a letter from her daughter."

I knew Elsa had a daughter, but she never talks about her. I don't even know her name.

"Her daughter? Everything okay with her?"

Jack shrugs. "Beats me, kid. I don't know. She must be fine because Elsa is still here. Then again, Tina always was a wild child, so maybe she's gone and done something again."

I look in the direction of the office and consider going back and sticking my nose in something that's not my business, but I don't think my boss would appreciate it.

So, I choose to just get back to work.

My shift ends at three in the morning, and by around two, the number of customers has dwindled. It's a weekday, so I don't really expect too many people to be here. There are only two drunks left in the bar. One is sprawled across his seat, his hand still gripping his beer bottle. The other is staring into his phone, his cheek resting against his palm, his expression morose.

I start wiping down the bar. The kitchen is already closed, and Jack and everybody else have gone home. Even Elsa left early for once, so locking up is my responsibility tonight. I've already flipped the empty chairs onto the tables and prepared the mop water. I'm just putting away the freshly washed glasses when I hear the door open. Looking up, I see Noah enter.

I glance at the wall clock to make sure I have the time right. Why is he out at two in the morning?

"We're about to close. Do you need something?" I ask him.

He approaches me, a small box in his hand. "Do you think you can take the day off tomorrow?"

"Actually, I don't think I'm on the schedule for tomorrow. Why?"

A smile blooms on his face, and instead of answering my question, he says, "Excellent. I'll pick you up around one."

"Pick me up for what?"

He doesn't respond, just puts the little box down on the bar. It has four tiny, beautiful tarts in it.

"Here. I got these for you."

As he leaves, I follow him with my gaze, confused. What is this obsession with constantly feeding me?

"The Alpha Successor is courting you." The drunkard who was engrossed in his phone is now watching me.

"Courting me? What are you talking about?"

The inebriated shifter leans back in his chair and burps. "He's feeding you, isn't he? And rumor around town is that he's been looking out for you. He's courting you, trying to show your wolf that he's a good candidate to be your mate. Not that it matters. You don't even have a wolf! Why would anybody want you, much less the Alpha Successor? And yet he does. Foolish boy."

I'm very accustomed to harsh words like these, and they slide right off my back. However, the rest of what he said has me tensing up.

Noah is courting me? Is that why he's trying to spend so much time with me? And constantly giving me all these gifts of food?

Our conversation from this afternoon comes roaring back to me. He asked me to show him around town. I thought maybe he was curious about somewhere in particular. I didn't realize he was asking me out on a date. But I could be wrong.

"I doubt it, Mr. Shelby," I reply to the man, finding the entire idea ludicrous. "Why would Noah be interested in me? He has much better options."

The man gestures vaguely with his arms as he gets to his feet. "I agree. Anyway, I'll be going now."

"Take Donald with you." I nod toward the unconscious man sprawled in his seat.

Good-naturedly, Mr. Shelby says loudly, "Come on, Donald. We know when we're not wanted."

He grabs the drunk man by the back of his shirt and tosses him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Lifting his free hand to wave goodbye, he stumbles outside. The door closes behind them, but I'm no longer watching. My attention is on the small box of tarts.

I don't know how to feel about this.

"This is so unreal," I murmur to myself, shaken.

"What is?"

I nearly jump out of my skin. When I look in the direction of Alex's voice, I see him standing by the door.

"We're closed."

He points to the bar's hours of operation, which are painted on the glass door. "This says you're open."

I give him a hard look. "The kitchen is closed, and so is the bar. Therefore, unless you're here to mop the floor with me, we are closed."

He tucks his hands in his pockets and approaches me. "What's that?"

"Nothing." I cover the box of tarts with my hands and slide it toward me. "A gift."

I don't miss the flicker of anger in his eyes. "A gift? Is it from the Alpha Successor who's panting after you?"

I'm about to deny it when something stops me. "Why do you care?"

Alex stares at me. "Excuse me?"

"Why do you care if he's panting after me?" I demand. "Do you think just because you don't want me, nobody else should, either?"

I put the box of tarts under the bar and walk around it, using the go-between, so I can wipe down the remaining two tables.

"Is that what you think?" Alex comes up behind me so quietly that I don't even realize he's there till his hand is on my elbow. He turns me around to face him. "You think I don't want you?"

My eyes narrow. "I don't know what you want, Alex. All I know is that you say one thing and then you do another. If you don't want this fated mate bond to grow, then you need to keep a distance from me. How hard is that?"

He answers my question with a question. "Do you like him?"

"Who?" I ask irritably.

"Noah Black," he spits out, his eyes flashing.

My lips press into a thin line as I shove him away from me. "How is that your business, Alex? How is it any of your business if I like somebody or not? Did you expect me to pine after you? Did you expect me to sit in the corner of my room crying and rocking back and forth because my fated mate doesn't want me? You don't know me. I've survived a hell of a lot worse. If I don't meet your standards, it's not about to break my heart. Sorry I'm not so easily shattered."

"That's not what I asked!" he growls, grabbing my wrist and giving me a little shake. "I am well aware of the kind of person you are. What I want to know is if you are interested in the Alpha's son."

It irritates me, his persistence. He's acting like a child who doesn't want his old toy anymore but doesn't want anybody else to play with it, either. I'm tempted to punch him in the gut.

"What if I am?" I pull my arm out of his grasp and take a step forward, refusing to back down. "What if I do like him? He takes care of me. He's kind to me. I matter to him."

"So, suddenly he's all good and kind in your eyes? I thought he was a shitty person."

His words have me floundering. "What the hell are you talking about?"

I see the flare of panic in his eyes before it vanishes and he continues. "Everyone knows he's not a good person. He's going to hurt you."

Rage builds up within me. "How is that your business? Whether he mistreats me or not, what happens to me is none of your business. It's got nothing to do with you."

"Of course it does!" he roars, grabbing me by the jaw. My fingers immediately seize the front of his shirt, ready to claw him to shreds, but I can't bring myself to hurt him.

"I am not your concern or your responsibility," I hiss furiously. "You don't have a say in who courts me or talks to me or gives me gifts. You and I are nothing to each other."

My words seem to enrage Alex even more, and his hold on my jaw tightens as he growls, "The hell we aren't!"

Before I can anticipate his next move, his mouth comes smashing down onto mine.

The moment our lips touch, it's like a current of electricity passes through me, jolting my entire body awake from some deep slumber. His mouth is soft and hard at the same time as he kisses me.

My heart is pounding. I can't think. All I can do is feel.

I feel the way his mouth moves against mine, his tongue suckling and licking, claiming dominance over me. His teeth sink into my lower lip in a punishing bite, and when he breaks the skin, he laps up the blood.

I moan into his mouth, lost in this heat. He's taking and taking from me. My body is pressed against his, needing more contact, needing more of everything. He backs me up to the edge of the table and, releasing my jaw, uses his hands to lift me by the hips. As if my body knows how to navigate itself in this situation, my legs wrap around his waist.

It's like a dam has broken. I no longer remember what we were fighting about. All I know is that on every inch of skin that his fingers graze against, press into, an unquenchable trail of fire is left behind, marking me.

I can feel wetness forming between my legs, a throbbing of need and desire. He's pressing against my most private area, and I blindly wish I could remove the barrier of clothing between us. It's just in the way.

His fingers are reaching for the bottom of my blouse when my back comes into contact with the empty beer bottle that Donald left behind. It falls to the ground, shattering into pieces. The loud noise shocks me out of my aroused state, yanking me back to cold, grim reality.

Alex's mouth is on my neck, but even as it evokes feelings of intense pleasure, it also fills me with humiliation.

I push him off me and scramble away from him. As soon as we're separated, I see his beast looking at me through his eyes, and my breath catches. His fingers hold on to the back of a chair as his eyes return to their normal state.

My breathing is uneven as I stare at him, unable to form words. I have no idea what to say.

He kissed me.

He should be the one to speak first, to break this silence.

However, the emotion that crosses Alex's face has my heart breaking all over again.

He turns on his heel and walks out of the bar. As the door closes behind him, I sink numbly into the chair.

My fingers drift across my swollen, bruised lips, my chest feeling hollow and empty.

Regret.

That's what I saw on Alex's face.

He regrets kissing me.