Page 57 of The Alpha's Fated Bond

“Karina cannot be allowed to live.”

I ponder Sophia’s words, turning them over in my head. While I’m angry that Patrick told her what I was intending to do, I hadn’t realized how desperately she wanted to go after the Queen. But then, Sophia’s concerns mirror mine. Karina will not stop hunting us.

Seeing such bloodlust in Sophia’s eyes made me shiver with excitement. It’s not that she isn’t capable of being fierce, it’s just that she has a softer heart than other shifters. But I’m starting to realize that, when it comes down to it, Sophia is every bit as ruthless as any one of us.

I’m passing by the shops in the village when I see a small woodworking shop that one of the older women runs. In the window display is a hand-carved bird sitting on the edge of a cage, about to take flight. It’s a beautiful piece, and I stare at it, mesmerized. It reminds me of Sophia. Caged all her life, and now she’s finally spreading her wings and finding her voice.

She keeps surprising me. Prickly, sweet, fierce, and yet, thoughtful.

I didn’t realize I was smiling until there’s a tap on the glass and I see my reflection. The door opens, and the small bell hangingon it jingles. Marjorie, the owner of the shop, steps outside. “See something you like, Alex?”

I point at the carving in the window. “Is that for sale?”

Marjorie turns to see what I’m pointing at, and she blinks. “Are you sure you want this? Ruby carved it. She’s still getting the hang of things, and it’s not the best quality we have here. I just put it in the display because she insisted on it.”

Ruby is her granddaughter. With Marjorie’s daughter and son-in-law dead, she has been raising the sixteen-year-old, who is soon going to be the successor of the woodworking shop. Ruby is still learning the ropes of this once booming family business.

“I have better pieces inside,” Marjorie offers.

I shake my head. “The person I want to get it for will really appreciate this one.”

Marjorie’s eyes crinkle at the corners as she beams at me. “Wait right here.”

She goes into the shop, and a couple minutes later, she returns with the packaged carving of the bird. “Here you go.”

I pull out my wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

She puts her hand on mine, lowering it. “It’s a gift for your young lady.”

The knowing look in her eyes makes me smile. “I couldn’t possibly—”

“This is the first time I’ve seen you so happy, Alex. That girl is good for you. I’m glad you found her. This is my gift to you both.”

I know if I turn down the older woman’s kind gesture, she’ll feel hurt. “I appreciate it, Marjorie. Sophia will love it.”

“She’s a lovely young woman.” Marjorie looks at me with a gentle smile. “Soft-spoken and kind. And she’s wise beyond her years.”

I don’t know about Sophia being soft-spoken or wise beyond her years, and the doubt in my eyes must be showing because Marjorie chuckles. “That girl has lived. I can tell. I was feeling a little nosy and dropped by the other day, and she didn’t turn me away, although she could have. Offered me tea and something to eat. Asked me what I do in the village. I like her, Alex. She suits you. And she’s going to make a wonderful addition to our pack. You’ve chosen well.”

I don’t need Marjorie’s approval, but it pleases me nonetheless. “I’ll tell Sophia that this is a gift from you.”

Just then, Marjorie’s eyes shift to someone behind me, and I look over my shoulder. Hilda is standing at the corner of the street, watching us, her expression taut.

The last time I saw Hilda was when I told her off for insulting Sophia. She didn’t like it, but I hadn’t been very pleased with how she had behaved. Even if she didn’t know who Sophia was to me, she still should have treated her with respect, considering that Sophia was supposedly an important guest in the eyes of the pack. However, seeing Hilda run out of the bakery with tears in her eyes still made me feel guilty. I lift a hand in her direction, and she approaches me.

“Who is that for?” she asks bluntly.

“It’s for his young lady friend,” Marjorie replies. Is it just me, or is there a hard undertone in the older woman’s voice?

“Who?”

“The shifter from out of town,” Marjorie emphasizes. “The one staying in his home.”

“That female is just here for the clothing shop. Stop assuming things, Marjorie,” Hilda spits out.

“Hilda!” I frown at her. “Watch your tone. Marjorie is your elder.”

Hilda gives me an angry look. “Why are you letting people talk about you and that female as if there’s something going on between the two of you? You shouldn’t be letting her stay in your house. It’s giving everyone the wrong idea!”

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