Page 91 of Alpha's Impostor Bride

I swallow, averting my gaze. “I wouldn’t even know what to say to him. I’m not the person I used to be. The girl he cared for was submissive and bowed her head to everything he said. I’m not that girl anymore. I’m a mother now. I’m someone now. Back then, I was no one.”

Harriet cups my cheeks, forcing me to look at her. “Then, go introduce yourself. Show him who you’ve become.”

“I—” I glance toward the window. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Harriet. Even if what you say is true—” My voice dies out.

Harriet doesn’t look insulted. “If you think I’m not telling you the truth, I’m willing to swear on my son’s life, Leanna. A nasty game was played, and you and Cedric both lost everything. Eight years is long enough. It’s time for the events of the past to come full circle.”

“You’re right.” I meet her gaze. “Eight years is a long time. Things have changed. I don’t want to go back to the North. My life is here now. I’m not going to go back to who I was there. I can’t. I worked very hard for everything I have achieved here. And it’s not like it will change anything. If the elders have so much control over Cedric, my presence will put me and my son in danger, and Cedric won’t do anything about it. He couldn’t do anything then, so why should he be able to do anything now?”

“Aren’t you assuming a lot of things?” Harriet’s voice is stern now. “Running away will only make things worse. Don’t assume what you don’t know. You don’t know that man’s heart. He will protect you and your son. There’s nothing he won’t do for you. Do you know why he’s sitting outside and not in here? He doesn’t want to scare you away. He wants to give you time, but he’s also breaking inside.”

I open my mouth to offer another excuse as to why I can’t talk to Cedric, why I have to stay away from him, but Harriet’s disapproving frown shuts me up. The truth is that I am scared. I’m scared of becoming the person I used to be around him. I’m scared of returning to that place. Scared of being hurt again.

When I walked toward the Misty Forest, prepared to both die and survive, my heart was being torn to shreds. In that moment, I knew how deeply dependent I had become on Cedric. I had allowed him into my heart. I had begun to trust him, and the betrayal I felt was a type of pain I had never experienced before.

During these past eight years, I often told myself that I had moved past it, but how could I have if it still hurts so much? I left a piece of my heart in the Northern Kingdom. I made peace with the fact that I was not worthy of love, that I would never be enough.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, but it was a fact I’d begun to accept. How could I ever expect anyone to want me when my own fated mate didn’t? I built up my confidence bit by bit, but there was one part of me I couldn’t repair: my heart, which lay shattered at my feet. So, I poured all my love into Finn. I gave him all the love within me, all the love I’d craved since I was a child.

I couldn’t protect myself, but I would make sure my son always knew how precious he was to me.

And now, hearing Harriet say all these things and knowing she’s not lying to me, especially not now that she has sworn on her own son’s life, it’s challenging everything I knew, and that is terrifying.

I smell something burning and stand up quickly, eager to get away from this conversation. “I’ll go check on dinner.”

Harriet doesn’t stop me, but I can feel her eyes on me as I walk away.

It’s dark outside when I open the door. Winter in this human city isn’t very cold. It’s definitely not as frigid as the weather in the Northern Kingdom. Tupperware in hand, I don’t know if I’m making the right decision, but the guilt was not letting me digest my own meal. Finn is occupied with Harriet, so I am able to slip away unnoticed. I don’t intend to do anything other than give Cedric the food and leave. I have no plans to talk to him.

When I approach the park across the street, I see that Cedric is sitting now. He’s so huge—all pure muscle, not an ounce of fat anywhere—that he takes up two-thirds of the bench. Considering he’s been fighting at the border nonstop, it makes sense.

He gets to his feet when I approach him. I don’t say anything as I hold out the food container.

He gives me a long look and then accepts it. But when I turn around to leave, his hand grasps my wrist. “Sit.”

His tone is somewhere between a command and a request. I glance toward my house and notice that from here, he can see the dining room table where Harriet and Finn are still talking. That’s why he changed positions, I realize. He was watching us eat.

Without him.

I can feel my wolf’s misery, its confusion, its distrust, and its yearning.

When I don’t move, Cedric repeats himself, “Sit,” adding with some difficulty, “please.”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard him use that word before. I didn’t even think it was part of his vocabulary.

Reluctantly, I sit down beside him. Since this is a residential area and it’s late in the evening, most families have settled down for the night, so the street and the park are empty. It’s quiet out here, and the street lamps are the only source of light.

Cedric opens the Tupperware and sniffs it.

“It’s not poisoned,” I say brusquely.

He glances at me. “I didn’t say it was. I was just smelling it. Didn’t know you could cook.”

“I can cook just fine. Finn’s well fed, isn’t he?” I don’t know why I’m being so rude. I feel defensive and irritated.

“I’m sure my son has a strong stomach, like me.” There’s a hint of pride in Cedric’s voice, and he takes a bite of the roasted meat. “This is good.” When I see that he looks surprised by this, I bristle, and his lips twist in a smirk. “You look like an angry cat.”

“Excuse me?!”

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