Chapter 6

Sophia Hope

There is something about sitting on a log on a quiet beach with gray clouds blooming in the distance. I have the entire place to myself today, and it feels oddly therapeutic. With a book in my hand, I'm skimming the pages, my eyes constantly lifting toward the ocean. The waves are playful today, teasing the shoreline. My jeans are rolled up to my knees, my legs still drying from a walk along the coast.

I hadn't really intended to read the books that Drew gave me, but curiosity got the best of me. Now that I think about it, I don't really have a hobby except for going on long walks by myself.

I'm already on chapter two of this novel, and it's like diving into another world. I don't remember the last time I picked up a book, but I'm glad I did now.

I don't have to go to work until late today, so I plan to spend the entirety of my free time sitting here. The picnic basket next to me is filled with sandwiches and drinks and whatever else I could buy at the bakery as soon as the doors opened.

The breeze feels nice against my face, my loose braid resting on my shoulder. I opted for jeans and a sleeveless shirt this morning, and I'm kind of regretting my choices. My legs feel cold after my little stroll on the beach.

Nobody is around at this time of day, so when I look up, my eyes scanning the shoreline in a casual manner, I'm surprised to see a figure walking in the shallow water.

The person is too far away for me to see their face. What are they doing? The ocean is still excruciatingly cold this time of year. Even I didn't linger in the water for very long, the iciness too harsh to bear.

I pick up my cup of coffee and take a sip, my eyes still on the figure down the beach. In a few more minutes, if they look to the side, I'm pretty sure they'll notice me.

But it seems that they also want to be left alone, so I just shrug and turn my attention back to the book. Nobody goes for a walk on an empty beach unless they want to be by themselves.

I've just started getting engrossed in the novel when a shadow falls over me. Irritated, I look up. "Do you mi—?" My words are cut off as I realize who it is, who is standing in front of me. "You!"

Alex is looking down at me. "What are you doing out here? It's quite chilly."

I tilt my head to one side. "Is it? Thank you for telling me. Here I was, trying to enjoy a quiet moment by myself."

He moves away, and just as I think he's going to leave, he comes around and sits down next to me on the log.

I gave him a dry look. "By all means. Do sit down."

Is this man following me? Why does he keep popping up everywhere? I've barely gotten over the events from the other night. I've never felt more relieved than when he didn't manage to link me to the Wily Vixen.

"What are you reading?"

"Nothing important." I close the book, and before I can put it down by my other side, he plucks it out of my hands. "What is your problem?!" I try to snatch the novel back, but he holds it out of reach and reads the back cover.

Finally, looking slightly amused, he lets me have it back. "I didn't take you for a romance reader."

I stuff the book inside the picnic basket, feeling flustered. "I'm not! I just picked it up."

"Are you always this defensive?" Alex asks.

"Yes," I scowl. "You keep blaming me for things, so don't expect me to welcome you with open arms."

He mutters something to himself that I don't quite catch.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing." He gives me an enigmatic half-smile.

He clearly has no plans of leaving anytime soon. And I really like this spot, so I don't want to leave, either. Grumbling under my breath, I take out one of the croissant sandwiches that I got from the bakery. I unwrap it and bite into the fresh bread.

Alex peeks into my basket. "You brought food."

"For me," I point out, chewing happily.

He gives me a long look. "Care to share?"

"No."

He lets out a heavy sigh. "And here I thought you would be grateful that I saved your life."

I am certain he is not my fated mate. Shouldn't fated mates invoke feelings of love and passion? This man makes me want to stab him with a spoon.

I catch him peeking at me from the corner of his eye, and I wonder whether he'll leave if I give him something to eat.

"I was grateful," I tell him bluntly. "And then you told me it was my fault I got attacked. So, you can imagine where those feelings of gratitude went."

Alex flinches. "I'm sorry about that. I never meant what I said."

I didn't expect him to apologize so easily, or for his apology to sound so sincere. In fact, he seems vastly different from the other encounters I've had with him. He has always seemed to have a stick up his ass. This is the first time I've seen him so relaxed.

"You're forgiven." I nudge the basket toward him. "I'll share my food with you."

He doesn't hesitate. As he opens the lid, he whistles. "You plan to finish all of this?"

"I was going to leave some for Tim, my neighbor's kid. He has a class trip to the beach today. Thought he'd like some snacks to share with his friends."

Alex is quiet for a moment, and then he takes out the beef sandwich I was saving for my lunch. I don't stop him, though.

"So, you're a waitress, huh?"

"Well, gee." I widen my eyes and gawk at him. "How did you figure that out?"

His lips twitch, and then he bites into his sandwich, chewing slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Have you lived in Oakrest Town your whole life?"

"Nine years."

"Where were you before?"

"Why are you interrogating me?"

"It's called having a conversation."

I glare at him, ready to bite his head off, and then I realize what I am doing. Once again, I'm going on the defensive. Shutting him out before he can shut me out.

"Sorry." I move my shoulders awkwardly. "I just don't understand why you want to talk to me. You clearly don't like me."

It sounds like a childish accusation, but that's the only reason I can link to his behavior toward me. He did save my life, but any good Samaritan would have done the same. Right?

For a moment, I see a strange emotion shift in his eyes. His voice is tense as he says, "That's not true."

I give him a tight smile, not bothering to contradict him.

He takes another bite out of his sandwich, and we sit in silence. However, I'm painfully aware of his every breath. Even though we're sitting so close together, the distance between us seems enormous. He's gazing at the ocean, and I take the opportunity to sneak a really good look at him. He's not conventionally handsome, but his looks are striking. A sharp nose, intelligent eyes, thin lips, and a prominent jaw line.

As I observe him, I feel my heart skip a beat. I look away immediately.

My fingers go to the side of my neck, and I rub the tingling skin absentmindedly. Suddenly, the gravity of my action hits me; my eyes widen as I recall Drew's words. Slowly, I turn my head and look at Alex, who is watching me.

I don't know whether it is fear or exhilaration that is making my heart go pitter-patter in my chest.

No. I'm imagining things. Drew put these thoughts in my head.

But Alex's eyes are pinned to the spot on my neck that I was just rubbing, and he's got a strange look in his eyes. My mouth turns dry.

He knows.

He knows, and he's not saying anything.

I lower my hand nonchalantly.

"How long are you and your friends here for?"

I hold his gaze, trying to sort through the emotions raging within me. If I feel this attraction to him, he can't be immune to it, can he?

"We don't know yet. We're here on business."

"What sort of business?"

Alex's expression goes blank. "I'm afraid I can't share the details of that with you."

Oh, I bet you can't , I think to myself wryly.

At least I don't say it aloud this time. I just nod and shrug. "Sure."

He searches my gaze as if not satisfied by something and then suddenly asks, "So, what do you do when you're not waitressing?"

I smile at him, a saccharine sweet smile, and echo his words back to him. "I'm afraid I can't share the details of that with you."

For a moment, Alex stares at me, and then he grins. "Fair enough."

This man confuses the hell out of me. I can't wrap my head around what kind of person he is. It was easy to despise the guy who was so rude to me, but this man sitting next to me is different. I want to relax around him, but I know how dangerous he is to me.

Once again, I can feel that same spot on the side of my neck tingling.

It's your imagination , I tell myself firmly.

"What about dinner spots? This town doesn't have much of a variety of cuisine."

"There's a bar," I tell him. "You've already been there. Aside from that, there are a few restaurants around town. We don't get a lot of tourist activity here aside from humans, and even that's not in the triple digits, so not many people want to open up businesses here."

"Why don't you get any tourist activity?" Alex gestures toward the golden sand and blue ocean. "You've got a lovely beach."

"It's not that we don't get tourists," I correct myself. "We just don't cater to their interests. And in the summer, the beach is only open to the townspeople."

"So, not a lot of activity down here," Alex murmurs. "The perfect place to hide—"

He cuts himself off, and I give him a curious look, wondering what he's talking about.

"You must know most of the people around here, then?" Alex studies me. "This isn't a big town, after all."

I shrug. "I know most faces, but that's because I work at a bar. We have a population of almost 9,000 people. You can't know everybody."

"I see. What about the Alpha of this region? Does he come here for inspections?"

That is an oddly specific question to ask, and I shoot Alex a sharp look. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," he says lightly. "There are eleven main packs in the South Alliance, but it's strange to see a town so isolated. I even heard that to leave Oakrest, you need to secure a permit from the pack security and the town administration. There's no way to sneak out."

I pick at the threads on my jeans. "That's true. Maybe it's because they send all the criminals down here."

It is meant as a dark joke, but Alex gives me a serious look. "Really?"

"No! We're just a small town."

I'm starting to feel anxious now, and I want to go home. I don't know why this guy is asking all sorts of weird questions, but I feel like the more I talk, the more information I might let slip.

I get to my feet. "I think I'm going to head back now."

He almost looks disappointed. "Why? I thought you were waiting to give your neighbor's kid the food."

"I'll just drop it at his school. They must still be there."

"I'll walk with you, then."

I close my eyes briefly. You are the one I'm trying to get away from.

He picks up the basket, and I'm left with no choice. I can't exactly wrestle it away from him. So, I grab the thin bed sheet I laid out on the sand and give it a good shake. I'm about to fold it when a strong gust of wind yanks it out of my arms, sending it floating in the direction of the ocean.

"Damn it!" I curse, racing after it.

The wind deposits it neatly in the water, and the waves decide to take over, pulling the sheet further and further away from me.

I wade into the cold water. The waves are particularly strong today, and the deeper I go into the ocean, the further away the bed sheet floats.

At some point, I realize that I'm moving further away from shore than I'm comfortable with. The strength of the waves keeps increasing, pulling me down.

Kicking my legs in the water, I finally decide to give up on the sheet and turn around, only to realize that the beach is now much further away than I thought.

Normally, I wouldn't panic. I'm a decent swimmer. But the waves are being frisky today, and it's not easy to swim against them. I can sense worry and fear creeping up, and I shove them away. This isn't the time to be getting anxious. If I let my emotions get the best of me, I won't be able to focus on the task at hand. The current is pulling me under the water, and I need to stay afloat.

I feel my wolf battling for survival. I refuse to give up. Death by drowning is not on my to-do list today. Kicking as hard as I can, I break through the water's surface, only to be pulled back down. I'm losing oxygen, which is not a good sign.

Specks of darkness are starting to fill my vision, and the tiniest part of me is beginning to give up hope. This isn't a physical fight that I can win.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, an arm wraps around my waist, and I'm held against a hard body. My head bursts out of the water, and I can breathe again. I gulp the air frantically.

"It's not over yet," I hear Alex say grimly right before another wave crashes on top of us. His grip on me tightens as the current pulls us down once again. Alex swims further out into the ocean and then changes direction so we are moving parallel to the shore. I don't understand what he's doing till he begins pulling me upward. This time, the current is weaker. As our heads break through the surface of the water, I look around and am relieved to see that we are close to shore, just a little further down the beach from where we started.

"I can swim," I gasp.

But Alex doesn't seem to want to take any risks. He keeps one arm around me as he swims toward the beach. Once our feet can touch the sandy bottom, he releases me, albeit a little reluctantly.

I wade through the water and then collapse on the beach, staring up at the sky. "I thought I was a goner for sure."

Alex sinks onto the sand next to me and glares at me. "Tell me I'm wrong about you being a magnet for trouble!"

I can't counter his words. "Sorry."

"Why'd you have to chase after that sheet?" he demands, and I realize he's actually pissed.

I sit up, frowning. "I didn't know the current would be so strong."

"That doesn't matter!" he growls at me, his voice raspy. "Use your common sense! You keep throwing yourself into dangerous situations. You're not invincible, Sophia, so stop treating yourself as if you are. One of these days…"

He keeps talking, but all I see is the way his hand lifts to scratch the side of his neck. His expression is fierce and agitated, and he doesn't seem to be aware of his own actions as his nails break the skin. When I scent his blood, my wolf goes into a frenzy. Alex's words fly over my head as I stare at him. This time, I know what this emotion is that is consuming me.

Desire.

An all-consuming desire.

It's funny how, when you take your deliberate blinders off, everything begins to make sense.

I grab his wrist before he does some serious damage. "You're hurting yourself."

There's shock on his face, as if he didn't realize what he was doing. As he lowers his hand, his gaze seeks mine, and I can see the realization in his eyes. He knows. And so do I.

His eyes move down my shirt, which is clinging to me. This time, it's my turn to smell the thick, musky scent in the air. My wolf rumbles, stretching and preening in response. I find it hard to breathe, the aroma like some sort of aphrodisiac, messing with my head. I can't really think straight, overwhelmed with the desire that is burning me from the inside out. My hand must have been moving because it's inches from his chest when he grabs my wrist, his hold tight and his expression dark.

"Don't."

The hardness of his tone causes some of the fog to lift.

I study my hand. What was I about to do?

"I'm not interested," Alex says after a beat. "I'm sorry. You're just not my type."

Humiliation blooms within me, and I immediately pull my hand back.

Not his type? The rejection makes me reel. Isn't he supposed to be my fated mate? The one who will accept me no matter what? He is. I know he is. My wolf has never reacted this way to anyone before. I didn't want to acknowledge it before, but now, even I can't deny it. I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't this—it wasn't to be so brutally rejected.

My fated mate doesn't want me.

My chest feels hollow, as if somebody has carved a space inside, shredding my heart to pieces.

I let out an uneven breath, slowly getting to my feet. I don't think I have the strength to look at him. This is why I never wanted to be in such a situation. This is why I never wanted to be so vulnerable with another person. I feel disgusting. Worthless. If I pulled out my heart right now, it would turn to dust. Wordlessly, I begin to walk away.

"Wait!" Alex calls out. When I don't stop, he blocks my path, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder.

I slap it away, mustering up my pride and finally looking at him, my face carefully blank. "I explicitly remember telling you not to rescue me again. What is your problem?"

Alex looks furious. "You were going to drown!"

"So?" I ask, my voice calm. "How does that affect you?"

His face goes pale. "Are you saying you don't mind dying?"

I take one more step toward him, until we are inches apart. My voice soft, I tell him, "I'm saying that what happens to me is none of your business." When I see the anger swirling in those pretty blue eyes of his, I can't stop myself. "You and I both know we are fated mates. Did you think I would break down and cry because you don't want me?"

Alex stiffens. "I'm just not in the market for a mate. No offense. Besides, I don't think we're compatible at all. I can't always be rescuing—"

"Then don't," I say harshly. "I'm not the one who approached you. I didn't try to chat you up on the beach. I never asked you to come over and interrupt my private time. I knew what you were, and I never did anything about it. You know why? Because you're not my type, either. So, do us both a favor, Alex, and stay away from me."

Turning on my heel, I storm off.

Rejection. My whole life, I have been rejected. But I've lived through it, haven't I? I'm a survivor. I have plans for my life. Those plans have never included love or a partner. I know how undesirable I am. I've been told as much since I was a child. I don't care if my fated mate found me unappealing on every level. So what? I'm not going to get my feelings hurt over somebody like him.

But as I stop to pick up the picnic basket Alex dropped as he rushed to save me, a traitorous tear slips down my cheek.

*** **

The next couple of days, I feel like my body is just going through the motions.

I go to work, and I come back home. I don't have much of an appetite, and I've started falling asleep in front of the television. The noise soothes me.

I never realized till now how lonely my life is. Every corner of my existence is filled with silence. There's nobody here with me.

The books Drew lent me are sitting on the small table by my front door. I've yet to give them back to him. I never finished that first book. As exciting as it had been, I lost interest in it.

It's eleven at night, and since my shift ended early, I'm sitting in front of the television, watching reality TV. I'm not even following what's going on; I just want to fill the silence of this apartment with something.

A knock on the door has me looking over at it, but I don't get up.

Another loud knock, and my eyebrows furrow together.

"Sophia! Open up. I know you're in there."

It's Drew's voice.

Getting to my feet, I pad over to the door and unlock it. When I open it, my neighbor is standing there with a bag in his hands. "Elsa sent me over with this."

"Oh."

It smells like cheeseburgers and fries. Once upon a time, they would have made my stomach rumble, but I feel disinterested. "You can keep it."

"No," he says firmly, shoving the bag into my hands. "You keep it. And eat it."

"I'm really not that hungry, Drew," I insist tiredly.

He studies me, his lips pursed together, a displeased expression on his face. "Alright. Then let's have some coffee. I think we should talk."

"I don't—"

"It's decided, then," he interrupts.

He walks past me, and I stare at the empty hallway, annoyed. "Please. Come in, by all means."

It's not like this is the first time Drew has come over. He drops Tim off, of course, but he also stops by from time to time to help me with plumbing issues and small things like that, as payment for babysitting his son. But I really don't want to talk to him right now.

He's already in the kitchen, though, so I close the door and follow him.

Leaning against the door frame, I watch him look for the coffee grounds and finally take pity on him when he begins peeking inside the cereal boxes. "I'm out of coffee."

Drew pauses. "Since when?"

I shrug.

"Alright, then." He gives me a stubborn look. "We'll have tea."

"I don't have—"

Unfortunately, before I can finish my sentence, he opens one of the small tins on the counter and retrieves two lavender tea bags. His expression turns into a grimace, and I point out, "You're not a tea person, Drew. Why're you doing this?"

He gives me a hard look. "You need a friend right now. I don't know what has happened, but you clearly need somebody to talk to. You're always there for me and Tim, so I want to be here for you."

I want to argue with him, but for a brief moment, some of the loneliness abates. I've been stuck in this rut of self-pity ever since that day at the beach. I've tried to convince myself I don't care, but no matter how hard I try, I can't exactly turn my heart into stone. I know I'll be fine at some point, but right now, I want to wallow in this numbness that borders on misery.

"I really don't want company tonight, Drew," I say in a quiet voice. "I just want to be left alone for a few days. I'll be fine."

Drew is putting the kettle on the stove, his back to me. At my words, he lets out a heavy sigh. His hands curl on the wooden counter, and I see his muscles bunch up under his shirt.

"I understand that." His voice is low. "When Katie died, I also didn't want company. When I was still grieving months later, I still wanted to be left alone. I just wanted to raise my son and be by myself. And when I moved here, I still didn't want anyone around. But you kept coming over, Sophia. You kept dropping off something or other. You were quite young, and you were dealing with your own issues. You didn't have to do those things, and I knew you never had any ulterior motives for coming around and helping me with Tim. You were just trying to comfort me. You helped me out during a very painful time in my life when I was determined to push everyone away. You never had to do any of that. My heart was broken, and you gave me a shoulder to lean on." He turns around and looks at me. "You have the same look in your eyes that I did when I lost Katie. You look like your heart has been broken. So, I want to be here for you, whether you like it or not."

I want to tell him that he's being presumptuous, that I don't need anyone. I want to tell him it's not the same thing. But the words won't come. Instead, a wave of misery and agony washes over me, my wolf whimpering inside my mind, the crippling pain of rejection reminding me how no one wants me, not even the person the Goddess picked for me.

I summon up my courage to tell him to leave, to say I can handle this, but my eyes are burning, and I can't seem to form the right words.

Sensing my distress, Drew takes a step toward me. I immediately hold up my hand, stopping him in his tracks. "N—No."

My voice breaks, and I see wrinkles form on his brow, worry and concern clashing on his face. "Sophia…"

I look at my friend, unable to stop the tears falling from my eyes. "He didn't want me, Drew. My fated mate didn't want me."