Chapter 26

Sophia Hope

I look around. I don't see anybody else for miles. Nobody is following Eve, but she seems excessively paranoid.

There has to be a reason.

I know that if I jump to the ground and shadow her, she might catch on to me. But if I stick to the trees, she probably won't look up.

I jump from tree to tree, trailing after her. She doesn't shift, which disappoints me, but after a while, the area starts to look altogether too familiar. She's heading toward the beach.

Right to where Rita's cottage is.

A strange sense of foreboding fills me. I'm certain there will be members of the security team watching the place. If that's where she's going, how does she plan to give them the slip?

Sure enough, I see three men stationed by the edge of the forest. To my surprise, though, they're not being vigilant. One of them is on his phone while the other two are playing a game of cards. Nobody is watching the dark cottage.

It will be easy for Eve to elude them. When she comes to a stop, I watch her cautiously. The men haven't noticed her yet. She reaches into her satchel and brings out a small ball. As she covers her mouth and nose with her shirt, I instinctively mimic her.

She removes something that looks like a pin from the ball, then gently rolls it toward the distracted men. Nothing happens for a minute.

I frown. What is that thing?

I'm about to lower the edge of my shirt from my mouth and nose when I realize that Eve is just standing there, waiting.

I glance at the ball sharply. It's lying there, perfectly still.

Instinct tells me not to remove the cloth from my face. I stand in the tree, watching in anticipation.

Moments later, the man who was on his phone drops to the ground, his phone slipping from his grasp. The other two follow suit.

My eyes widen in shock.

Was there gas in that ball? That's the only explanation I can think of. Sleeping gas. Or poison. If that's the case, I can't linger here for long. Eve makes her way toward them, and I watch her kick one of them just to make sure he's passed out. Once she's reassured, she walks past them, her shirt still covering her mouth and nose.

Making sure I'm upwind of the gas, I stay in my perch and watch as Eve walks straight into the cottage through the front door, without a care in the world. My jaw tightens.

She's not being subtle about this at all. The lights in the cottage get turned on, and I can see her silhouette moving from room to room. I don't know what she's looking for, but if there was any doubt within me about whether Eve is linked to Rita's death, it is gone now. I don't know if Eve is the Silver Wolf or not, but I do know she's not who she claims to be.

I jump to the ground, stealthily make my way over to the cottage, and peek through the window. Eve is quite certain she has knocked everybody out, so she's not being very careful. She's in the kitchen now, rummaging through the cupboards. When she doesn't find what she's looking for, she walks over to the study. I sneak over to that window and peer inside. The study is already a mess, and Eve doesn't help matters. She's pulling open drawers, rifling through papers. I see one of Rita's favorite crystal swans sitting on the corner of the desk; in her haste, Eve pushes it aside, and it shatters on the floor.

She just looks annoyed and moves on with her search. Meanwhile, anger burns within me. Rita is already dead. Why trash her cherished belongings? The look on Eve's face makes my new dislike for her grow.

It also makes me wonder, if she really is the Silver Wolf, whether she will help Alex and his people willingly. The way she's behaving right now—tossing things around, not caring about the damage she's doing—makes me feel sick. Maybe it's because Rita mattered to me, and seeing the home she built be abused like this upsets me.

When Alex and I were searching the place, I don't remember him destroying things. Despite the urgency of the situation, we didn't treat Rita's belongings with disrespect. It hurts my heart to see the things she loved so much being thrown to the floor and smashed. I don't care if this woman is the Silver Wolf. I'm going to sucker punch the bitch. One good sock to the eye, and then Alex can have her.

The idea is oddly satisfying.

As the minutes turn into an hour, the frustration on Eve's face is growing. Whatever she is searching for, she hasn't found it.

She reaches into her pocket and takes out another burner phone, similar to the one she broke in the alleyway. The shape and color look to be the same from where I'm standing. As she dials a number and presses the phone to her ear, I listen in.

Her voice is not quiet, but she's very abrupt and to the point, making it hard for me to follow the conversation.

"No proof. There's nothing I can find here to link him to this woman. We may have been chasing a dead end all this time."

She pauses for a while as the person on the other end says something. Then, she shakes her head. "It could be that this was just an accident. Maybe he doesn't suspect anything. I can't find anything that connects the two of them. We could be wrong. She could have been here as a retiree."

A few seconds later, Eve nods and ends the call. After looking around once more, she starts walking toward the front of the house. I immediately duck around the corner into the bushes outside.

I hear the front door open and then slam shut. Peering around the edge of the house, I wait till Eve has retreated into the forest. Once I'm sure she's not coming back, I head inside Rita's cottage.

The lights are off now, and I don't make a huge show of turning on every light in the place like Eve did. Instead, I feel my way to the study, where I turn on a small desk lamp.

It looks worse from here. The entire room is in disarray.

Unable to help myself, I start picking up some of the items that Eve tossed on the floor during her search. What was it that she was looking for? Maybe the parchment slips Alex and I found the night of Rita's murder? When she was on the phone, it sounded like Eve was trying to connect Rita and someone else: a male. Could it be that she was trying to link Rita to her attacker? Does Eve know who the killer is?

Somebody out there knows something. I wish I could simply go up to them and demand answers.

I let out a deep breath. I should get going. I don't know how long those men out there will be unconscious. The last thing I need right now is to get caught.

I'm about to leave when I see a small cactus plant tucked in the middle of the books on the small shelf over the desk. My feet freeze to the ground as I stare at it, a wave of grief washing over me.

That plant was the first gift I ever gave Rita. Elsa had encouraged me to bring her a housewarming present, and not knowing what she might like, I had picked up the cactus at the florist. It's a very small plant, and I had expected her to stick it someplace and forget about it. I never knew she'd kept it all this time. It's in plain view, and every time she sat at her desk, she would have seen it.

Slowly, I approach it and pick it up. Even cactus plants need some level of attention, and Rita was clearly taking care of this one. It's healthy, and the soil has a slight hint of moisture to it. On the bottom of the pot, I feel something slick. I look, and there's a small piece of tape under there. On it is written, in permanent marker, " Gift from Sophia. "

My eyes burn with emotion. All this time!

I'm about to put the plant back when I see something sticking out from behind the books. It's a tiny, black notebook. I've seen it plenty of times; Rita always carried it with her, and on occasion, I would see her scribbling in it when I dropped by. She always put it away instantly when she saw me.

I pluck it out from behind the books and open it. Rita's writing always was rather neat.

The page I've opened to is a random entry of what is clearly a diary.

"Sophia brought me extra bread rolls today. She's a sweet girl. Buster is her biggest fan, even if he doesn't show it."

I smile sadly and flip through the journal.

There's an entry on every page, but the dates show she didn't write one daily.

Near the front of the book, I read, "I gave more than half my life to Elmer, and he was willing to turn his back on me when we were both old and ready to retire, simply because he found his fated mate?"

The pen pressed deep into the paper with each stroke, and I can almost see Rita's scowl as she wrote these words. I never knew Elmer had found his fated mate. Rita never mentioned it. Did he not die in battle, then? Did he leave Rita?

I turn the page and realize the entry continues. It's not a short one like the others I've already seen.

"Did he really think I would just let him walk away? I stood by him through everything. I stood by him when he was abusive and a drunk, when he was depressed, when the whole world was against him. I was his rock. Why was it so easy for him to think he could just abandon me? He lived a lifetime with me, not with that woman."

I feel a pang of sadness for Rita. She was in pain when she wrote this.

The next page makes me gasp.

"It's not like I wanted to kill him, but the situation escalated. I knew he would do anything to be with her. And he had no regret about leaving me behind. As far as he was concerned, he simply found another woman to take care of him. And me? I lost everything. I lost my leg saving his life. In return, he was going to walk out on me?"

My body turns cold as I'm beginning to understand what really happened to Rita's husband.

The next paragraph confirms it.

"I was no match for Elmer. At least, not physically. But he always was a fool. Far too trusting. All it took was one vial of the toxins; once he realized what was happening, it was too late. He was already paralyzed. I needed him to feel that pain. He died suffering, awake through it all. But all this time, I thought I had covered my tracks. How did that brat find out?"

That brat? That has to be the person who messaged Rita! The one who claimed to know her secret.

"What he's asking of me isn't that complicated. It's a simple thing, really. And if he is willing to preserve my secret for this, it's not a big sacrifice. But I'm worried. I've always known that the wolf existed, but here, in this town? Is that why there's a witch's barrier surrounding Oakrest? I'm going to make first contact next week. Let's see who I'm dealing with."

The next few pages have been torn out.

Rita doesn't mention anybody by name in her entries. If she did, it would be easier to figure out who she's referring to.

One of the later entries is scribbled, almost as if she was in a hurry.

"I'm starting to regret this. He's told me portions of his plan, but he's not somebody I can trust. And the girl. I've never been one to stray from a mission, but does she deserve this? I'm handing her over to a monster. She's being groomed. And the people in this town, they know. The pack security knows the truth. At least some of it."

I can't completely understand Rita's rambling.

"I was careless. I slipped up. I got too caught up in everything and didn't realize how twisted his plan was. I can't let this happen. I have to put a stop to everything before it's too late. But she'll never forgive me. She will never forgive me. She trusted me, and I betrayed her trust."

That's the last entry in the diary. Most of the other pages are torn out.

I'm beginning to feel that same itch in my brain, as if I am on the cusp of something, as if I know something, but I just can't reach out and grab it. The pieces of the puzzle are beginning to fit together, but I feel like my brain does not want me to see the full picture. Not yet.

I should go.

I tuck the diary in my bag and then hesitate when I see the cactus. If I leave it here, it'll be thrown away or damaged. I can't bear the thought of that. Grabbing the plant, I carefully place it in my bag, as well. I will leave it at Rita's grave. A housewarming gift and a goodbye gift.

As I'm walking out of the study, I see a stack of magazines lying untouched in a corner of the room. I stare at them for a full minute before realizing why they are standing out to me so much. Rita read magazines, but not ones about sports. I don't even know where she got these from; they're not sold locally. I walk over and pick up one of them. Almost as if possessed, I start riffling through the magazines. One by one, I check them all. Rita was a spy—maybe she hid something…

I can only call it luck when something falls out of the second-to-last magazine. It's a photograph.

A picture of Eve.

I stare at it, stunned into silence. Crouching down, I pick up the photo and then turn it over. There is some scribbling on the back. I turn back to the picture, and I notice where it was taken. At the bar. Rita must have taken it when Eve was working. The writing on the back doesn't make any sense, though. It's a bunch of dates.

Not knowing what to make of it, I take the photo with me.

Now it's really getting late. I use the front door to leave and, stepping around the three guys still lying unconscious by the trees, begin running through the forest in the direction of my apartment. I don't slow down or take a break, as the fear of being followed is hanging around my head like a noose.

In my haste, I forget about the men surveilling my apartment building. I've just exited the trees across the road from my building when I hear Wyatt's voice shout my name. I stop in my tracks.

"Well, well, well." Wyatt approaches me menacingly. "And where have you been?"

If I go on the defensive, he's going to wonder what I'm trying to hide. So, I do what I did last time. I turn around to face him, looking annoyed. "And that's your business because…?"

"It's my business because I'm making it my business," he declares smugly.

"What I do and where I go is not your business." I give him a disgusted look. "Unless there's a curfew in this town I don't know about, I can come home at six in the morning if I want, and nobody has the right to question me."

He clearly doesn't like my answer or that I'm not quivering in fear before him.

"I'm going to ask you one more time," he says dangerously. "Where the hell were you?"

"Not your business." I enunciate each word.

To my shock, he lifts his hand, clearly enraged. But before his hand can descend on my cheek, his claws out, somebody grabs his wrist, stopping him.

Drew steps between us, growling. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Wyatt glares at him. "Stay out of this, Drew!"

"Why should I?" Drew demands, shielding me protectively. "And why are you and the others watching our apartment building? Why are you harassing the tenants?"

Wyatt's upper lip curls in a sneer. "Harassing? I just want to know where she's been at this hour of the night."

"Why?" Drew snaps. "Is she your daughter? Or your girlfriend that you care about so much? If not, you need to back the fuck up. Just because you're part of the security team doesn't mean you can harass a pack member."

"Pack member?" Wyatt snorts. "Her? She's just a filthy halfling. She shouldn't even be part of this pack."

"That is not for you to decide," Drew says harshly. "If you have a problem, you can take it up with Alpha Black. But you have no business badgering Sophia."

Wyatt looks furious. "And what are you going to do? Stop me?"

"Yes." Drew doesn't back off, his voice hard. "I'm not going to sit here and watch you threaten and assault Sophia for no reason. And if I have to go to Noah to make sure you stop, don't worry, I will."

Wyatt isn't fazed by Drew's threat. "You'll snitch on me, huh? Well, we know how to deal with snitches around here. You better watch over that boy of yours."

The sentence is barely out of his mouth when I see red. Did he really just threaten Tim?

Without thinking, and fueled by rage, I shoved Drew aside and slap Wyatt in the face with all my claws out, spilling blood. I use my full strength, and to my shock, he goes flying backward.

My body is quivering with fury. "How dare you? How dare you threaten a child?!"

"You fucking whore!" Wyatt shrieks, spittle flying from his mouth. "I'm going to kill you!"

"Bring it on!" I scream back. "You're threatening kids now?! You must feel like a big man going after a little boy!"

"I'm gonna kill that little bastard and you!" Wyatt yells, and he charges at me.

Drew is trying to hold me back and protect me at the same time, but I'm ready for a fight. I'm so over this nonsense. They have no reason to treat me like this! I always have to walk on eggshells around here, listening to insults with a smile on my face. I'm done with this shit!

The other men from the security team come running from around the building at the sound of the commotion. But I don't care. Something has finally snapped within me, and now I just want blood.

Drew growls at me, "Have you lost your mind?!"

I glare at him. "He threatened Tim! Why aren't you more upset?"

"I…" He's staring at me, unable to form a response.

"They're monsters!" I snarl. "All of them! They did nothing when your mate was killed, and now, they're threatening to kill your son! You should be the one who's pissed off!"

Drew turns around at a sound from over his shoulder just in time for Wyatt to pierce his chest with his claws.

I hear my friend gasp, and the air fills with the smell of his blood. There's a vicious smile on Wyatt's face. "That was a long fucking time coming!"

I hear people call out Wyatt's name in shock but I ignore them, my body moving. Without hesitation, I slam my knee into his abdomen, and as he groans, I grab his wrist and twist it. As he tries to move, I use my elbow to shatter his forearm bone.

Wyatt goes down with a shout of pain, but I'm not done. Years' worth of anger and resentment is coming out now, and I have to be held back by three members of the security team to stop me from trying to kill Wyatt.

However, nobody is trying to hurt me. They are simply trying to restrain me, George among them.

"Let me go!" I shout. "I'm going to kill this fucker!"

I don't use such foul language normally, but today I'm at the end of my rope. I just want this all over with!

"Take her away!" one of the guys shouts at George, who forcibly drags me toward the building.

Another man is tending to Drew, who is now lying on the ground.

"You need to calm down," George says, giving me a shake. "You can't kill Wyatt!"

But I don't care. Right now, my wolf is beyond agitated. It's moving within me with a ferocity I've never experienced before, desperate to break out of its cage. I can feel my skin ripple as my wolf howls inside me. I've never felt such a blood thirst before, and right now, I just want to run, to break free from everything.

"Sophia!" George is trying to get through to me.

"He's going to kill Tim," I say fiercely. "He threatened to kill Drew's son! All of you are the same! Monsters! You can't bear a single scratch on your own children, but when it comes to others, you're willing to burn their families to the ground! I don't know how you live with yourselves!"

George's face is white as a sheet, and I see something like regret in his eyes.

"Sophia," he begins, but I shake my head.

"If he does anything to Tim, I'll rip his heart out!"

On the other side of George, Wyatt is still screeching. "Stop hiding that whore! Dirty-blooded halfling!"

"Shut up, Wyatt!" one of his team member shouts at him.

But Wyatt is out for blood. My blood.

Suddenly, a cool voice washes over us, and everybody freezes, including Wyatt. "What is going on here?"

I look over to see Noah approaching us, his expression impassive. His eyes take in the scene before him, and he raises his brow at George, who still has his hands on me.

"Care to explain?"

Wyatt decides to be the one to speak up, desperate to get the first word.

"It was that bitch!" He points at me using his still-functioning arm. "I asked her where she was coming from at this time of night, and she wouldn't tell me. Then she attacked me—"

"Liar!" I spit out. "You attacked me! And then you threatened to kill Drew's son because Drew saved me from you!"

Noah's expression turns icy. "You attacked her?"

There's a dangerous edge to his voice that has my wolf's hackles rising.

Wyatt goes pale, and he immediately denies it. "Of course not, sir! I was trying to get her to tell me what she was doing out so late—"

"And how is that your business?" Noah takes a step toward him. "Why were you questioning her?"

Wyatt's mouth flaps open like a fish as he tries to gather his wits about him. "She's been leading you on, sir! It's four in the morning, and she's just now coming home? She's probably fucking somebody—"

Before anybody can blink, Wyatt goes crashing into the trees as a result of one backhanded strike from Noah.

Silence fills the street.

Nobody dares to speak. My wolf is bristling inside me, sensing a new threat. I find myself more than a little disturbed at seeing this side of Noah.

"Bring him back," Noah instructs one of the men, his voice even.

The man races over to where Wyatt has fallen and drags him back. He dumps Wyatt at Noah's feet, and Noah looks down at him. "You were saying?"

Wyatt is bleeding from the side of his head. He looks terrified, but his hatred is greater than his fear. "I will never accept a halfling like her as the Alpha Female. She is a whore, just like that mother of hers!"

I'm about to say something, but George clamps his hand over my mouth to stop me. His voice is a hiss. "Do you want to be next?"

I stare at him, and then it hits me. George believes I could share a similar fate as Wyatt.

But Noah wouldn't hurt me, would he?

For the first time, I find myself having doubts. Ever since Noah started courting me, I seem to have blind faith in him whenever I'm around him. I find that faith being shaken tonight.

"Did you threaten to kill a child?" Noah questions Wyatt.

"That lying bitch—"

This time there's a kick, and a loud crack fills the air. I hold my breath when I see the way the side of Wyatt's face has fallen in. His jaw is shattered, and he moans in pain. My heart is beating like a drum, terror filling me.

But once again, Wyatt refuses to give up his hatred. Holding his jaw in place, he somehow manages to sit up and slur, "That boy is the son of a traitor! And the woman you're courting is nothing but a lowly whore, like her mother! She doesn't deserve to sit next to the Alpha—"

It seems that Noah has had enough. He raises his hand, and the whole world slows down.

I see his claws come out as he tilts his hand, aiming it at Wyatt's neck.

Shocked sounds.

George's quiet groan of despair.

The sound of my heart thundering inside my chest.

I see the look of shock on Wyatt's face, followed by fear and panic. And then, his head is no longer there.