– Chapter 82
Sophie’s Pov
I shifted after Martin left with Selene and Lila. It’s so cold in this basement that my teeth were actually chattering – I’ve never been so grateful for my fur. I don’t know where he’s taken them or when he’s coming back, but I’m not sure it matters.
By now Drake must know what I’ve done.
If I ever get out of this place I’m going to be in a world of pain, either from Martin’s fists or Drake’s hatred. Hell it will probably be both. I’ve survived Martin’s temper my entire life, I’m not sure I can survive Drake hating me.
My stomach is growling so fiercely and I can’t remember the last time I ate. I’ve been trying to distract myself from the wretched pangs and my parched throat, but my thoughts can only drift so far before finding their way back.
I hope Selene and Lila are okay. I still don’t understand what Martin is up to. I was a fool for believing him, but I don’t have the faintest idea why he wanted the she-wolves. I have a very bad feeling about all this. Did he leave me here so I couldn’t run for help? Or is he simply not finished with me yet?
I’m still pondering the idea when I hear the front door open, then a wolf moving through the house on all fours. A shadow appears beneath the door at the top of the stairs, and Hugo’s familiar scent wafts down to me.
Oh Goddess, has he come to arrest me?
The door jerks off its hinges, releasing a stream of yellow light filtering through the iron bars. Hugo is back in human form, squinting through the darkness, “Sophie?” He calls, “Are you alright?”
I can’t answer, I can’t bring myself to shift back. I can barely breathe. I’m spinning into a panic attack, the walls closing in around me. Hugo curses under his breath, and I can see him fighting with the padlock on the bars. “Just hold on Soph, I’m going to get you out.”
I whimper as the room begins to spin, listening to the clinking and clanking of metal far above me. The last thing I remember is hearing a metallic crash as the lock breaks, then everything is black.
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The world is blurry when my lashes part, and I can smell the strident clean of a hospital. It’s a terrible unnatural scent, and so powerful I almost don’t notice the familiar aroma beneath.
Drake. I think miserably, clamping my eyes shut again. Any other time I would be comforted and thrilled to find him at my bedside, now I wish he was just about anyone else.
He won’t hurt us. My wolf, Rose, is always more optimistic than I am. She says it’s because her instincts are stronger, I think it’s because she often gets to stay safe inside me while I bear the brunt of Martin’s anger.
Hey, I heard that. She grumbles.
“Are you going to pretend to sleep all day, little lamb?” Drake’s deep voice skitters over my skin, and suddenly I can feel him next to me, warmth radiating off his big body. Soft fingers graze my uninjured cheek, and I flinch as if I’ve been struck.
He tsks, settling his hand more firmly against my skin rather than pulling it away, “Goddess I could kill him all over again.”
This gets my attention. I hesitantly open my eyes, finding Drake’s handsome face much closer than I expected. His emerald green eyes are clouded with anger and worry, his angular jaw covered in a dark swath of stubble. “Kill who?” I squeak.
He sighs heavily, looking almost regretful. “Martin.”
“He’s dead?” I ask, unable to process this new information.
“Yes.” Drake replies soberly, “He can’t ever hurt you – or anyone else – again, Sophie.”
Don’t ask me why, because I haven’t the faintest clue, but a sob rises in my chest. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I hate Martin.
Hated. Rose corrects me gently.
Hated. I hated my brother, he’s done nothing but hurt me for years and his latest transgressions have probably cost me my future. I know they’ve cost me the man I love. I shouldn’t be sad that he’s gone. Only someone truly sick would mourn their abuser… right?
He was still our brother. Rose reminds me, he wasn’t always evil. We grew up together, those memories count… and he’s the only family we had left.
I flinch again when Drake climbs into my bed, shifting me over so he can stretch out on the cot and pull me into his arms. I collapse against him without shame, crying my heart out over everything that’s happened over the last week – over the last few years.
Drake strokes my hair, making soft shushing noises and murmuring encouragements my ear, “That’s it sweetheart. Let it all out, I’ve got you.”
Somehow his words make it worse, he shouldn’t be nice to me, not after what I did. I don’t deserve his kindness. If I’m capable of kidnapping an innocent pup, maybe I deserved Martin’s punishments after all. But not this.
I know he’s angry with me. I can feel rage writhing in his chest like a feral beast, lurking just beneath the surface and waiting to burst out – probably when I’m not a blubbering mess. I’m not sure how I can sense it so keely, I’ve always been able to tap into Drake’s feelings like this and I stopped questioning it a long time ago.
“Stop.” I moan, clenching my small fists so tightly my fingernails break the skin, digging into my palm in perfect rows of bloody crescents.
“Stop what, Soph?” Drake purrs, his nose twitching as the scent of my blood fills the air. He instantly catches my wrists, prying my fingers out of their tightly locked position, “baby, what are you doing?”
“S-stop b-being ni-ice to me.” I weep shakily, despising his sweet words and pet names. He’s always done this, always called me by terms of endearment and showered me with physical affection. It’s why it’s been so impossible to get over him, to even look at anyone else as a possible mate.
“Look at me, Sophie.” He growls, Alpha authority heavy in his voice. I can only cower and cringe away from him until a second growl shatters the quiet, and my gaze jumps to his without my permission.
Drake’s nose is almost touching mine, and his dark brow is furrowed in disapproval. His large hands are still steadily petting me despite his pulled focus, and I can only think about how horrible I must look. “You are not responsible for what Martin did.” He claims falsely, “I won’t stand for you feeling guilty about his crimes.”
I drop my forehead against his chest, hiding my face and all but wailing, “But I am. Selene will tell you. I kidnapped Lila.”
“Selene already told me.” He states firmly, nudging me with his shoulder, “I know exactly what happened.”
I pause, trying to catch my breath, “What?”
“What did you think was going to happen, Sophie?” Drake questions ominously, “Did you think I would blame you when I’m the one who failed to protect you, to even notice what was happening right under my nose?”
Crinkling my nose in confusion, I tilt my chin up so I can see his face. A moment ago I thought his seething anger was for me, now I understand he’s turned it towards himself. I open my mouth to argue, but a long, masculine finger presses to my lips. “You were locked in a cell when Hugo found you. You still bear his bruises.” He rumbles furiously, eyeing my cheek. “If Lila hadn’t been in such bad shape I would have stayed back to help Aiden exterminate the bastard”
“What happened to Lila?” I ask fretfully, swiping at my eyes and smearing blood over my face.
Drake tuts and presses the nurse’s call button before answering my question, using his thumbs to try and wipe the crimson stain from my skin, “Just an allergic reaction to the Starlight.” He shares, “She’s fine now.”
“I still don’t understand why he wanted them.” I admit tearfully, “I mean he convinced me to help him by…” Suddenly realizing explaining my side of the story would mean admitting to Drake that I have feelings for him, I trail off.
“Yes?” Drake prods, arching his brow.
Just then the nurse appears, taking one look at Drake and I and immediately launching into a lecture. She chases Drake out of the bed and sets about wrapping the fresh injuries on my hands and cleaning the blood and tears from my skin. We remain silent as she works, but the tension in the air is unbearable. Before she leaves she turns on the Alpha, “Sophie needs to rest. She doesn’t need you getting her all worked up.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Drake salutes her, and she rolls her eyes before stalking off.
When she’s gone, he returns to my bedside, though he doesn’t climb back in. Instead he leans over me, an unreadable expression on his face. “Now, where were we?”