Lib Novel Page 144
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.”