Chapter 3 We Might Have a Problem
1151 Words
Sophia's POV
I woke up to a headache so vicious it felt personal.
"I told you," Aurora said, with the very specific tone of someone who had told you.
I know.
I opened my eyes. Harsh morning light was leaking through the curtains.
Unfamiliar ceiling. Unfamiliar room.
"Do you remember last night?" Aurora asked, careful.
Yes.
I sat up.
The silk sheet slid down and I looked at what last night had left behind. Bruises — blue, purple, red — scattered like a map across my skin.
"God," Aurora breathed. "That Alpha didn't hold back even a little."
The memories came flooding back in full color.
"We slept with him," Aurora said, like she was still processing it. "We actually did it."
I know.
My head was ringing.
"Sophia," Aurora said quietly. "Do you regret it?"
The anger from last night was still there, banked but burning. But underneath it, rising fast, was something I had no interest in examining closely.
Shame.
What had I done?
Three years with Wyatt and I'd never let him touch me. And last night I'd handed myself to a complete stranger —
"To hurt Wyatt," Aurora reminded me.
Water was running. From the bathroom.
"He's still here," Aurora said, and her voice went sharp.
I needed to leave. Right now.
I scrambled off the bed and started grabbing clothes. Dress, bra, one heel.
"Other one's under the bed," Aurora said.
My underwear?
"Can't find it. Leave it. We need to go now."
The water stopped.
"Hurry!" Aurora pushed. "He's coming out!"
I grabbed my bag and ran.
"Your shoes — you only have one —"
I didn't stop.
I made it out of the hotel at something between a walk and a sprint, one heel on, one in my hand, not looking back.
Home. Shower. Now.
I turned the water up as hot as it would go and stood under it.
"Sophia," Aurora said softly. "Don't do this to yourself."
I scrubbed anyway.
"It won't work," she said. "Those marks won't fade for at least a week."
I folded down onto the floor of the shower, my back against the tile, arms wrapped around my knees.
"Sophia." Aurora's voice was heavy with something close to guilt. "I'm sorry. I should have stopped you harder. That's my job — to protect you. Even from yourself."
It wasn't your fault.
"But I'm your wolf. I'm supposed to —"
The water hit my shoulders and ran down.
I let myself sit in the noise of it.
"Sophia," Aurora said suddenly, and her tone shifted. "Do you smell it?"
Smell what?
"His scent," she said. "That Alpha. It's on us. It's... strong."
I went still.
"Did he mark us?" I asked, my voice coming out tighter than I intended.
"No." I felt her exhale with relief. "Just scent. No mark. But Sophia —" She paused. "His scent is different. I've never smelled an Alpha like that before. That much power in a scent... it's not normal."
So what?
"I'm just saying," Aurora said slowly, "that I think we might have gotten ourselves into something bigger than a one-night act of revenge."
I dragged myself out of the shower and back to bed. The whole night felt unreal — like a fever dream that had left evidence all over my skin.
I pulled the curtains shut and lay in the dark.
In one night, everything had collapsed.
Wyatt was finished. I knew that completely now — not in the raw, jagged way I'd known it last night, but in the clean, cold way you know something once the shock has burned off. There was no going back to him. No pretending. I couldn't stomach the sight of his face, let alone the idea of standing beside him at any altar.
Which meant the alliance was gone.
If I didn't secure the Silvermoon match, Serena would. Serena always would.
And if I was going to marry into an alliance, it needed to be someone whose position surpassed Wyatt's. Silvermoon was the strongest pack in the North. Everything else was second place.
I stared at the ceiling.
The exhaustion was bone-deep, but sleep wouldn't come. Three years of feeling didn't evaporate in a day. I knew that. I wasn't foolish enough to expect it to.
Last night's revenge had burned fast and bright and left nothing but ash.
The front door opened.
Footsteps down the hall. My bedroom door pushed open.
"Sophia." Wyatt's voice was soft and sorry. Puppy-dog sorry. The kind of sorry I had spent three years finding impossible to stay angry at. "I'm so sorry."
I lay still in the dark, watching him from under half-closed eyes.
The old me would have melted. I knew exactly what that version of me would have done — sat up, let him explain, found some reason to believe him.
"Why are you apologizing?" I asked. My voice came out flat.
"I don't not want you — that's not what last night was. I'm twenty-two. I just — the idea of settling down, a Chosen Mate, it's something I've never even thought about before. It scared me. I panicked."
"And now? One night later, where are you?"
"Sophia, your company is still new. I don't have steady work yet. It's too soon to talk about this stuff. Give it a few years, okay? Before I'm thirty, I promise — I'll mark you. I swear it."
I smiled, but there was nothing behind it.
"So you're doing me a favor," I said.
"That's not —"
He reached for my hand.
"Don't touch him," Aurora said flatly. "He reeks of that she-wolf. It's disgusting."
I pulled my hand away like he'd burned it.
"Where were you last night?"
"Good question," Aurora muttered. "Watch him."
"Donny broke up with his girlfriend. We got pretty wrecked. I crashed at his place."
It was a bad lie. The kind that didn't even try.
"You don't need to explain anything," I said. "I didn't sleep. I'm exhausted. Please go."
"Okay, don't be upset."
"I'm not."
"Oh — actually, I'm having dinner with some people tonight, do you want to come?"
"I'm too tired."
"Okay, rest up then. Hey — I have something for you. A present. In a few days."
"...Sure."
He left shortly after. I heard the front door close, and then I got out of bed.
This was the first time I had ever gone into his room.
Three years together, and I had always kept that invisible line in place. I never went through his phone. Never touched his things. Maybe he'd counted on that. Maybe it made him careless.
The dresser drawer wasn't even locked.
Inside, a property deed.
This house — the small two-story I had been renting — was now listed under the name Wyatt Steele.
So that was the present.
He bought the house.
A parting gift? Compensation?
- Writer
