The Wolf That Saved Me

CHAPTER 5: Jealousy, No Rights to Feel That Way

Michael was different around her. Around Sophia.

It wasn’t just the way he stood, his body losing that ever-present tension I had come to recognize in him. It was in his voice, lighter, amused even, as if he had forgotten all the darkness we were drowning in. It was in the way his lips twitched, threatening a smile I had never seen before. A real one.

I watched them from where I sat, arms wrapped around myself, still shaken from the attack. Sophia had made herself comfortable against the counter, swirling a glass of wine she had somehow produced out of nowhere, while Michael leaned against the sink, close. Too close.

I wasn’t stupid, I could see the familiarity between them, the history that neither of them was bothering to explain. The way her eyes flicked to his hands, like she was remembering something. The way he actually laughed at something she said.

A laugh. From Michael.

It was like looking at a completely different person.

I didn’t know why it bothered me. Maybe because I had only seen the version of him that was all sharp edges and shadows. The one who never smiled, who barely spoke unless it was to warn me or command me to do something for my own good.

The one who made me feel like I was a burden.

But Sophia?

She made him normal. Effortless. Like they were just two people who had lived through a hundred nights like this together. Like this wasn’t some nightmare, just another evening, just another glass of wine between friends.

And I hated it.

I hated how easy it was for her to slide into his space, to talk to him like she knew everything about him. I hated how much he let her.

Most of all, I hated the ugly feeling curling in my gut, the stupid, unreasonable jealousy I had no right to feel.

“You’re staring,” Sophia said suddenly, her gaze flicking to me, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips.

Michael’s expression immediately hardened as if remembering I was still here.

I forced a shrug. “Just trying to figure you out.”

Her smirk widened. “Oh, honey. That’s a dangerous game.”

Michael exhaled sharply and rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Sophia, don’t—”

“What? She’s curious. Let her ask questions.” She turned her sharp, assessing gaze back to me, amusement dancing in her eyes. “So, Olivia, what exactly are you trying to figure out?”

My jaw tightened. “How you two know each other.”

Silence.

Michael looked away. Sophia, however, looked entertained.

“Oh, that’s a fun one.” She tapped her chin. “Do you want the short version or the interesting one?”

Michael shot her a warning look.

“The short one,” I said, staring straight at him now, daring him to answer.

Sophia sighed dramatically. “Fine. We go way back.”

“That’s not an answer,” I said, voice flat.

“No, but it’s the only one you’re getting tonight.”

I clenched my jaw, frustration boiling beneath my skin.

Michael met my gaze, something unreadable in his expression. “Get some rest, Olivia.”

And just like that, I was dismissed.

I wanted to push. To demand more. But I had the distinct feeling that I wouldn’t like the answers.

So instead, I stood up and walked away, refusing to look back.

Refusing to acknowledge the ache in my chest that had nothing to do with the fight I had barely survived.

And everything to do with the way Michael had smiled at someone who wasn’t me.

(NEXT MORNING)

The cabin was quiet. Too quiet.

Michael had left a while ago, and now it was just me and Sophia.

I didn’t like it.

Not because she’d done anything wrong but because I wasn’t sure what to make of her. She was too… effortless. Like she fit into this world in a way I never could.

She moved through the cabin with a natural kind of grace, pouring herself another glass of wine before sinking into the couch with a content sigh. “You can sit, you know,” she said, giving me a sideways glance.

I hesitated before finally lowering myself into the chair across from her.

“You don’t like me,” she mused, studying me over the rim of her glass.

I blinked. “I never said that.”

She smirked. “You didn’t have to.”

Silence stretched between us. The fire crackled in the hearth, throwing shadows against the log walls.

I crossed my arms. “How long have you known Michael?”

“Long enough.”

I waited for her to elaborate, but she didn’t. She just tilted her head, assessing me like she was trying to figure out if I was worth telling.

Finally, she exhaled and set her wine aside. “I loved him. I had feelings for him, you know.”

Something in my chest tightened.

I swallowed. “And now?”

Sophia’s expression softened, something almost sad in her gaze. “Now, I think you do.”

I tensed. “That’s not..”

“Oh, please,” she cut in with a small laugh. “You may not have figured it out yet, but your eyes give you away.”

I clenched my jaw. “Michael and I are—”

“—nothing? Sure.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “That’s what I told myself too.”

My heart pounded in my ears.

“We used to date,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “It wasn’t perfect, but it worked. Until the night he saved you.”

My breath caught. “The night I was bitten.”

Sophia nodded. “That was the night we broke up. Not long after.., he saved you”

The floor felt like it had shifted beneath me.

I tried to piece it together, but nothing made sense. “Why?”

Sophia sighed, leaning back against the couch. “Because Michael doesn’t half-love anything. And when he makes a choice, he sticks to it.” Her gaze met mine, unwavering. “That night, he chose you.”

The words landed like a gut punch.

I shook my head. “He doesn’t..”

“Maybe you’re right,” she said, her voice light but her eyes sharp. “Maybe he doesn’t see it. Maybe you don’t either.” She took another sip of wine. “But I feel like I do.”

She leaned forward again, her voice dropping lower. “Why do you think he watched over you? It’s not just guilt, Olivia. He cares about you.”

I stiffened, but she wasn’t done.

“I screwed up,” she admitted. “I gave him an ultimatum..If he wanted me back and he had to do was let you go but he couldn’t. He chose you. He knew you were scared and lost, and he knew you needed someone.” She let out a breath, her fingers tightening around her glass. “I made sure you were safe all this while. Maybe if I had made my peace with that… maybe we’d still be together.”

The fire crackled between us.

I wanted to argue. To tell her she was wrong. That whatever I felt whatever twisted, tangled mess of emotions existed between Michael and me wasn’t love.

But I couldn’t say it because part of me wasn’t sure if it was a lie.

I stared at Sophia, my fingers gripping the fabric of my sweater so tightly I thought it might tear.

She was everything I wasn’t.

Effortlessly beautiful, with her sleek dark hair falling in perfect waves over her shoulders. Confident in the way she spoke, moved, existed. Even sitting there on the couch, legs crossed, holding her glass of wine like a damn queen, she looked untouchable.

Of course Michael had loved her.

And maybe he still did.

“I don’t know why you’re telling me this,” I muttered, looking away.

Sophia let out a small laugh. “Because you need to hear it.”

I clenched my jaw. “I don’t.”

“Yes, you do,” she countered easily, swirling the wine in her glass. “You think he still loves me, don’t you?”

I swallowed, unable to answer.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Michael is Michael. He’s complicated. He carries guilt like a damn cross on his back, and he doesn’t let go of people easily. But that doesn’t mean he’s in love with me.”

I forced a bitter laugh. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Sophia leaned forward, her gaze sharp. “And what about you? What do you feel?”

I let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know.”

It was a lie. I did know.

I knew exactly what I felt when I saw him with her…when I saw the way he laughed so freely, how relaxed he seemed, how different he was around her.

It made my chest tighten in a way I hated.

“I wish I was like you,” I admitted quietly, not looking at her. “Beautiful. Sexy. Sophisticated. Someone who just… fits into this world.”

Sophia’s expression softened.

“I want to fight like you,” I continued, my voice stronger now. “I want to be strong. I don’t want to be this scared girl anymore. I don’t want to be someone people have to save.”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything.

Then, she smirked. “You know, I was a mess when I first turned too.”

I glanced at her in surprise.

She shrugged. “I was scared. Weak. Had no idea what I was doing. But I learned. And so will you.”

I exhaled, looking down at my hands. “What if I don’t?”

“You will,” she said simply. “And if you want help, I’ll be here.”

I looked up at her then, and she smiled. A real, genuine smile.

“Whoever Michael chooses.. me, you or any random lady he meets outside,” she said, holding out her hand, “promise me we’ll be friends regardless. Because I want us to be friends, Olivia.”

I hesitated, then reached out and shook her hand.

“Friends,” I murmured.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn’t completely alone.