Chapter 27

Sophia Hope

Wyatt's head goes rolling onto the ground. His body remains still for a few heartbeats before slumping forward.

It's my turn to fall to my knees. George supports me, gently lowering me down.

My hands are shaking as I gaze at Wyatt's body, his head lying on the grass nearby.

My eyes flick to Noah, whose expression is impassive. It's like I'm staring at the same boy who tried to drown me all those years ago. There's not a hint of remorse or regret on his face.

He steps toward Drew, and I find my voice. Reaching out with my hand, I scream, panicked, "Don't hurt him! He's my friend!"

Noah stops before slowly turning his head to look at me. "I wasn't going to hurt him."

His eyes are icy, his face expressionless.

It's terrifying. My wolf is frightened now. It's backing into a corner of my mind, watchful and scared.

"Take him to the healer's," Noah tells two of the men. "Make sure he gets the best treatment."

They pick up Drew and carry him off.

"Get rid of the body," Noah instructs the others with a wave of his hand toward what's left of Wyatt. "And let this serve as a warning to anybody else: an insult to Sophia is an insult to me. And I don't tolerate insults."

Once again, the remaining members of the security team are quiet. Cold and authoritative, Noah's presence is terrifying for everybody.

Now I understand why people fear Noah. I've been looking at him through rose-tinted glasses. He's not a sweet person. He's dangerous and fearsome, and I want to run away from him.

When he approaches me, it takes every ounce of courage to lift my eyes to meet his. He crouches down next to me. "Are you alright?"

I move my head in a jerky nod.

"I want to know what happened here, Sophia. What were you doing out at this time of night when you know there is a Northern wolf around? What if he had attacked you? Till he's caught, you can't move about as you please. The town isn't safe, especially the forest."

He's not angry with me, I realize. He's scolding me, but his voice is gentle now. However, that doesn't help with the image seared into my brain of Noah decapitating Wyatt. Even if he did it because Wyatt had insulted and attacked me, I still find myself nauseated.

My hands feel icy cold as Noah helps me up.

"Let's go upstairs. You need something in your stomach."

I can't say no. I can't find my voice right now.

I don't know how we get to my apartment door, but when he reaches for my bag to look for the keys, I quickly do it myself. The diary is in my bag. I can't let Noah find out that I was in Rita's cottage.

I locate the keys and open the door, trying not to look at his face for his reaction.

I can't exactly stop Noah from entering my apartment with me. He says, "You sit down. I'll make you some tea, and then we'll talk."

I watch him roll up his sleeves and head into the kitchen. I don't have the strength to follow him, so I sit down heavily on the couch. Once he's out of sight, I look down at my hands and note that they're still trembling.

This is the perfect opportunity to tell Noah that we should not be together, but I have a feeling he's not going to take that too well. And after what I saw tonight, I don't think I have the balls to say anything that could cause him to snap.

No harm in being a coward for the moment. After all, I just watched the Alpha Successor deprive a man of his head.

The last thing I need is my own head rolling around this apartment.

"Chamomile or lavender?" I hear Noah call out.

I jerk forward. He might as well have asked if I wanted my head grilled or fried.

It surprises me how normal my voice sounds when I respond. "Chamomile, please."

I can hear the sound of the electric kettle being turned on, and I close my eyes, trying to relax. I have to play it cool. If only my heart would stop trying to leap out of my chest.

I've only just managed to calm myself down when Noah returns from the kitchen, carrying two mugs. He places them on the coffee table before sitting down on the couch next to me.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." I hear the regret in his voice, but it does nothing to make me feel better.

"Why did you have to kill him?" I find myself asking despite my better judgment.

Noah picks up the mug in front of him and sips it, studying me. "I want you to become the Alpha Female of this pack, Sophia. I want you as my mate. I'm not taking this courtship lightly. And I will not tolerate anybody disrespecting you. Wyatt called you a halfling, and he insulted your mother. If I let him get away with it, what kind of message am I sending everybody else? That they can say what they like to you and there will be no consequences?"

I open my mouth to say something, but my brain is still processing what he just said. I kind of understand, and I'm oddly flattered, but that doesn't mean I'm not terrified of him. The ease with which he took Wyatt's life has shaken me to my very core.

Finally, his words register on me. "Is ‘halfling' an insult?"

Noah blinks at me. "What kind of question is that?"

I shrug. "I've been called a halfling for as long as I can remember. I didn't know it was such a terrible insult."

"It's the worst kind." Noah sets down his mug, his voice grave. "Halflings and those with dirty blood are children born to a shifter parent and a human parent. They lack the ability to shift. They're not the same as shifters with latent wolves, but they're not completely human, either. In most cases, these children are given to the human parent to be raised away from the pack, and the shifter parent cuts all ties with them. However, even nowadays, packs usually hunt down these children and kill them. They are considered a stain on the pack's honor."

My stomach churns at this bit of news. All this time, Wyatt and so many others have referred to me as a halfling, and I never knew what it meant. I've been called so many other derogatory names that I simply never paid attention. It was easier to ignore the sharp words than focus on them obsessively.

But now that I understand what the meaning behind that insult is, it bothers me. This pack, these people—they only know cruelty. I was a mere sixteen years old when that word was first aimed at me. I was a child. A terrified one.

Yet, at the same time, I don't think Wyatt's life should have been cut short because of what he said to me.

I'm worried Noah can read my mind right now because he says, "I can see that you feel bad about Wyatt, but don't. You've been quite sheltered in this town, Sophia, but the fact is that pack laws are extremely harsh. I was well within my rights to torture him to death, but I simply did not think he was worth that much effort. And now, I don't think anybody will dare show you even the slightest bit of disrespect."

Maybe he's right, but I just keep thinking of the panicked look on Wyatt's face as Noah killed him.

"Thank you for showing up when you did." I sip my tea, finding the taste light and fragrant. "I lost it for a minute there."

"I could tell." Noah doesn't look amused. "Going after a member of the security team was not a smart idea, Sophia. They're stronger than you."

"You're right." I can't explain to him what happened to me in that moment. Everything just became too much for me, and I was on the verge of exploding. I glance down at my hand, recalling the rippling sensation I felt. I've never experienced anything like it before. It was as if my wolf was desperate to come out. If given the time, would I have been able to shift forms?

"Where were you, though?" Noah asks suddenly "I thought your work ended around one."

"It did." I say, trying to keep my voice even and relaxed. "But with Rita's death…I was very close to her, Noah. The idea of coming back here felt suffocating, so I decided to go for a walk. I ended up sitting by the lake for an hour before I decided to head home. How is the case going, by the way? I heard you're in charge of it."

"The investigation into Rita's murder?" Noah shakes his head. "We don't have much information yet. But I have reason to believe it was that Northern wolf. Rita lived in such an isolated area. The other cottages on that road are empty. Maybe he came to rob the place. In any case, I'm looking into it. I'm not going to let Rita's attacker walk free for long."

I give him a small smile, but now I have a new problem to deal with. If Noah is planning to pin the murder on Alex, he's going to double down on finding the black wolf. And sooner or later, he's going to figure out Alex's and his companions' true identities. I have to warn them. This is no longer a matter of weeks but days now.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around much," Noah apologizes. "I've been meaning to ask you what happened the other day at my place. You disappeared into thin air."

I remember the men standing outside Noah's apartment, the ones who appeared only after we had gone inside. Why were they there? It's unsettling, but I choose not to say anything about it. "I was feeling sick. I had to leave."

Noah studies me intently. "But you didn't leave through the front door."

I realize now that he knew about the men in the hall, which is a troubling thought. "The pack security team and I don't exactly get along," I say slowly, choosing each word carefully. "I was about to leave the way we went in, but I saw them standing out there, and I freaked out. So, I climbed out the window."

Noah stares at me, looking bewildered.

"The window? You realize you could have hurt yourself?"

"I really don't get along with them," I insist tightly. "They go out of their way to make life difficult for me, so I try not to cross paths with them when I can avoid it. I was fine; I just scraped my knee a little."

"And then what happened? Were you okay when you got home? Did you need to see a healer?"

I shake my head. "I had something bad to eat the night before. I guess it was just the after-effects of that. I should've reached out to you to let you know, but things have been so hectic recently that I simply forgot."

"I see." Noah gives me a small smile. "As long as you're feeling better."

He doesn't seem to be in the mood to leave, and I am not exactly planning to ask him to spend the rest of the night here. It doesn't matter how Noah looks at me or how he touches me; there is no attraction between us, or at least none that I feel. I wonder if it's because of Alex.

As I take another sip of tea, I realize it has cooled down. The taste has become slightly bitter. I set down the mug and let out a deliberate yawn, hoping Noah will take the hint. Fortunately, he does. Looking regretful, he says. "I should probably let you rest. It's far too late."

I give him a grateful smile. "Thanks. I'm still trying to process what happened to Rita. My thoughts are all messed up."

His face immediately brightens. "If you don't want to be alone—"

Me and my big, stupid mouth.

"No," I say quickly. "I appreciate the offer, but I just want to be alone, Noah."

He doesn't argue. "I understand. Why don't you finish your tea, and then I'll go."

Noah looks pointedly at my drink.

I really don't want to, but I guess I have no choice. I reach for the mug, but in my distracted state, I miss the handle by an inch, and my hand hits the side of it with a little too much force. Since it was resting on a corner of the table, it falls to the ground; I try to catch it, but I fail.

"Oh, no!" I cry out in distress as it smashes on the floor. "That was my favorite mug!"

I lean down to pick up the pieces, but Noah beats me to it.

"Don't! You'll cut yourself!"

His voice is tinged with anger, and I flinch.

"I—I'll get a dustpan and broom." I hurry away, my heart pounding.

His actions are considerate, but his voice is furious. Grumbling under my breath, trying to combat the fear, I mutter, "What's his problem? It's not his favorite mug that broke."

By the time I return, Noah has wiped the tea off the floor and put the paper napkins he used into a small bag, which he's shoving in his pocket.

I glance at the wastebasket by the door and point at it. "You can throw that away right over there."

He shrugs. "I'll toss it in the garbage can outside." The pieces of the mug are still on the ground when he says, "I'm going to head out now."

I stare after him, confused. Why make such a big deal out of the broken mug and then only wipe up the spilled tea?

Shaking my head, I sweep up the mess and throw it all in the trash. After locking the door to the apartment, I finally turn my attention toward the items in my bag that I took from Rita's house.

I put the small cactus in my kitchen window so it can get some sunlight. As for the diary, I look at it once I'm in bed. All the things Rita wrote in it are cryptic at best. Even though she liked to journal her thoughts, she was careful not to leak any identities through her writing. A smart move, but it's not helping me find her killer.

She keeps referring to a girl, and I have a feeling it's the Silver Wolf. If Rita was recruited to find out the identity of the Silver Wolf, it makes sense that she was also tasked with building a relationship with that woman. I'm assuming. There are a lot of assumptions at play here.

If I can find out who Rita was close to, I may be able to help Alex find the wolf.

Pulling the blanket over myself, I'm about to put the diary in my bedside table drawer when I hesitate.

The girl Rita mentions, who could it be? I try to remember the females Rita interacted with in town. I can't think of anyone she was overly focused on. She used to meet some older women in the park for board games, but the few times I saw her with them, she was more fixated on the game than on a particular person.

Rita always made it a point to come by the bar, and she was sweet to Eve. I remember Rita leaving a rather generous tip for her a couple of times, and the two of them had some conversations. I wish I had paid more attention to what they discussed.

The only other people I know for a fact Rita was close to are Elsa and me. Elsa is human; she told me her species when we first met. Plus, it's common knowledge around town.

That leaves me.

For a brief moment, I amuse myself by toying with the idea. But there is no way I could be the Silver Wolf. My wolf is latent. Even if I can feel it inside me now, it's weak, and I lack the ability to shift.

But the dreams I've been having…

I stop myself before I can finish the thought. I've been obsessed with the Silver Wolf lately. No wonder I'm constantly dreaming about one. It's all in my head.

I picture myself in a lineup for the potential identity of this mysterious wolf. Finding the very idea ridiculous and laughable, I reach over to turn off the lamp.

But when I sleep, I dream of that wolf in the dungeon. This time, it's looking at me and crying. And once again, no matter how much I try, I cannot break the bars of its cage.

When I wake up, the sun is out. My face is wet with my own tears, and my heart is aching.

*** **

When I head over to Alex's motel this afternoon, I've already glimpsed the dark circles under my eyes in the bathroom mirror. I look like death warmed over. My wolf is feeling agitated, and not even the prospect of seeing its mate is cheering it up. Ever since I felt my skin ripple when it tried to break free last night, my wolf has been acting oddly.

I have to make sure I'm not being followed. I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, paranoia building up inside me.

I should've asked Noah why there were people from the pack security team stationed outside my building. But I was so desperate to get him out of my apartment that I never got around to it. This morning, though, there was nobody in sight when I looked out the window. Maybe they left after what happened last night.

There aren't a lot of people around when I enter the motel. I don't want to run into Julia, so I quickly leave a message with the person at the front desk for Alex to meet me in the woods. While I know Noah and his people are still looking for the black wolf, the place I have chosen is one they would not bother searching. It's on the edge of town, a small patch of land surrounded by poison ivy and stinging nettles. Wolves aren't immune to such plants, so they generally avoid this area. I rarely venture here myself, but when I do, it's because of the privacy it affords. If I avoid the nefarious bushes, it's safe enough.

With Rita's diary in my small satchel, I wait, certain that Alex and I will not be seen together here. I don't have to wait long because I hear somebody approaching. I turn around, Alex's name on my lips, when I freeze in shock.

The person emerging from the thicket isn't Alex, but Nathan.

Immediately on my guard, I take a few steps back. "What are you doing here?"

"You left a message—"

"Yes," I say, tightly. "For Alex."

Nathan looks perturbed. "Well, Alex isn't available."

"Are you sure that's the case?" I question him tersely. "Or did you think this would be a good time to come and finish the job, now that Alex isn't around?"

Nathan flinches. "That's not—"

"Because I'll stab you if you try it," I warn him. "You'd better stay away from me, Nathan. I don't have time to play with you."

He flushes. "I just came to see what was so important." When I stare at him darkly, he also says, "I'm not stupid enough to try to kill you again."

I remain silent, as it seems like there's more he has to say. From the look on his face, he's struggling with something.

"I—" His face turns a bright red, and his fists ball up at his sides.

"Is this some new way of shifting forms?" I ask warily. "I'm leaving. I'm not sticking around to find out what you're up to. Just tell Alex to find me when he's free."

I have just started to walk away when Nathan shouts at my back, as if unable to contain himself, "I'm sorry!"

My jaw drops, I'm so shocked by his apology. Slowly, I turn around and face him. I'm sure I misheard. "What was that?"

His face is still red, and he refuses to meet my eyes. "I said I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to kill you. And you were right. I was—I was using Alex as a tool. I didn't think his happiness mattered. At least, that's how I was behaving."

I stare at him. "Is this some sort of trick?"

He still doesn't look at me. "No. I'm capable of apologizing when I'm in the wrong. Alex has never complained to us, not even once. When we found out you were his fated mate, he could've said that he was going to be with you, but he told us not to worry, that he wouldn't choose his own happiness over the pack."

He swallows, his expression tense. "I was relieved at the time, but it should have bothered me. Just because he's the Alpha doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings or that they don't matter. Out of everyone, you've been the one most concerned about how he feels, when it should have been us."

Although Nathan won't look at me while he's apologizing, the apology itself is surprisingly mature and shows me the side of him that Alex implied existed. Nathan may still be young, but he had to grow up fast. He does look remorseful, and he's been dealt a pretty shitty hand. I do understand his situation.

"It's okay," I say, running my fingers through my hair and feeling awkward. "But just to play it safe, why don't you stay where I can see you?"

While I can forgive, that doesn't necessarily mean it is easy to forget all the cruel things he said to me and what he was about to do to me when Alex stopped him.

I take out Rita's diary and toss it to Nathan. He catches it. "What is this?"

"I went to Rita's cottage last night. I think I might have an idea of who the Silver Wolf is." When his head shoots up, I add, "I'm not sure yet, but it's a pretty strong hunch. There's a female server who works night shifts with me at the bar. Her name is Eve. She may be the person you guys are looking for."

"But what about—" Nathan cuts himself off, and I give him a wry smile.

"The female shifter in the cage fighting ring?" I ask. "She's not the Silver Wolf. You should probably leave that poor woman alone."

Nathan looks uncertain as he glances down at the diary again. "How can you say for sure?"

"Because this is a strong lead," I tell him firmly. "And I know the fighter you've been watching. She's not the Silver Wolf."

"But then, who is she?"

"I don't think that's your business, Nathan. If I reveal her identity, she could get in a lot of trouble with the pack. So, leave her alone. Also, Eve was in Rita's cottage last night, too, searching for something. Look, I don't know how much Alex has told you guys, but he and I have been working together to find the Silver Wolf. I just wanted to give him the diary."

I'm about to walk away when Nathan calls my name. "Sophia?"

I don't answer, but I look at him over my shoulder.

He appears ashamed. "I am sorry for what I said."

"Which part?" I ask coolly. "And you shouldn't apologize. I know you meant what you said."

Nathan looks uneasy now. "I didn't—"

"I'm not an idiot, Nathan," I say calmly. "I know you don't like me; it's pretty obvious. Even now, you only feel bad because my words hit the mark. Thank you for the apology, but I don't need it. You're not sorry for what you said to me. You're sorry because you saw what your actions were doing to Alex. And that's fine by me."

His head lowers, and I begin walking away.

I may not be the best judge of character, but I do know when I'm disliked. Even now, I can tell from the way Nathan looks at me that my presence is not to his liking. He has already told me his reasons. But to me, his anger is pointless. I have no intention of standing between him and his sister's safety. Things between Alex and me have already been decided. We are never going to be together. It just isn't the right time for us.

When I reach the forest, I pause and say, just loudly enough for him to hear me, "I hope they rescue your sister, Nathan. Alex told me she's your only family. I hope you get her back."

I hear Nathan make a sound, but I don't stick around any longer.

As I head toward the bar, I wonder what Alex was busy with. Maybe he's doing his own research. Or maybe he's upset with me about the other night. I have to admit that I feel a little disappointed. Was I that eager to see him?

Walking through the woods, I suddenly feel a spasm of pain in my right arm. Clutching it, I let out a quiet groan. My fingers are digging into my arm now, and I look down as the tremors continue. It's rippling again. My skin is crawling with waves, as if something is underneath it. Out of the blue, nausea overtakes me, and I dry heave. Nothing comes out because my stomach is empty.

What is going on?

The pain is intensifying, and my wolf is howling inside my head. I can't hear or feel anything aside from its constant, loud roar and this agonizing pain spreading through my arm. My body slumps against a tree, and I let out gasping noises as I struggle to breathe.

But it only gets worse. I can't even look at my arm. The mere sight of it is frightening.

Slamming the back of my head against the tree, I let out a pained, animalistic sound.

What is happening?! Why won't it stop hurting?!

"Sophia?!"

My eyes fly open, and I see Elsa standing just a few feet from me, looking shocked.