Chapter Forty-Six: Professional Liar in Training

Sophie's POV

I watched my father's car disappear down the winding driveway, a knot of tension coiling tighter in my stomach with each passing second. My fingers clenched around the folded paper in my pocket. One wrong move and everything would blow up in my face.

"Sophie." Marcus's voice made me jump. He stood at the end of the hallway, the morning light cast harsh shadows across his face. "My study. Now."

Fuck. Here we go.

The weight of Marcus's stare pressed against my back as I followed him down the corridor. His study had always felt imposing, but today it was more like an interrogation room.

"Sit and report." He gestured to one of the chairs facing his desk.

"Excuse me?" I planted my feet. "My conversations with my father are private."

A dark eyebrow arched. "Are they?"

"Yes, they fucking are." The curse slipped out before I could stop it. "Or is breathing without permission against pack rules too?"

"Careful, little wolf." His voice dropped low, but not with the usual threatening undertone. "This isn't about controlling your breathing. This is about security."

"Security." I barked out a laugh. "Right. Because my father is such a threat."

"Any Alpha with enough motivation can be a threat." Marcus leaned against his desk, arms crossed. "And your father has plenty of motivation, doesn't he?"

Well, shit. When he put it that way...

"Fine." I dropped into the chair opposite his desk. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything that happened after I left the room."

I took a deep breath, carefully reconstructing the scene in my mind. "He tried to convince me to go home with him. Said he could protect me better than..." I trailed off, not wanting to repeat my father's exact words about Marcus's failure.

"Than me?" Marcus's lips curved slightly. "I'm sure he did. Continue."

"I told him no." My fingers twisted in my lap. "He asked about Adam, about our... engagement." The word still tasted bitter. "Wanted to know if I was really happy with the arrangement."

"And what did you tell him?"

Here was the dangerous part. I had to be careful - too much truth would reveal my growing feelings for Marcus, too many lies would be obvious.

"I told him I wanted to stay. That things with Adam were..." I swallowed hard. "Going well."

Marcus's eyes narrowed fractionally. "Did he believe you?"

"Would you?" Damn. My mouth really needed a filter.

Something flickered across his face - surprise? Appreciation? "No," he admitted. "I wouldn't."

"Yeah, well, neither did he." I shifted uncomfortably. "He started talking about other options. Other men who might be more... suitable."

"More suitable." Marcus repeated the words like they tasted foul. "Tell me exactly what he said."

Goddess, this was awkward. "He said there were others who would 'appreciate my unique qualities'. Like being unable to smell was some kind of gift instead of a defect." I let out a bitter laugh. "Pretty sure he's just desperate to marry me off to someone - anyone - in his own pack."

"And why do you think that is?"

"Because he doesn't trust you?" The words came out more like a question. "Or maybe he doesn't trust that I can handle myself here."

"Can you?" Marcus's voice was calm, but his eyes burned into mine.

"I survived your house, didn't I?" I met his gaze steadily.

His lips twitched. "That you did."

"Did he suggest anyone specific?"

"Just mentioned some 'promising young warriors'." I rolled my eyes, though my heart was racing. "Real subtle, right?"

Marcus straightened, a predatory stillness coming over him. "And your response?"

"I told him I was happy here." Not exactly a lie - just not for the reasons I'd let my father believe. "That I didn't need his matchmaking."

"Then?"

I hesitated. This was the most dangerous part - the moment when my father had practically invited me to pass along any messages. The blank note felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket.

"He asked if I had anything else to tell him." My voice stayed steady through sheer force of will. "I said no."

The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken questions. Marcus's dark eyes fixed on my face and searched for something.

"Interesting choice of words," he finally said. "'Anything else to tell him.' Rather specific phrasing."

Shit. My pulse jumped. "Was it? I didn't notice."

"Hmm." He pushed away from the desk, moving to stare out the window. "You're learning, Sophie. The careful answers, the strategic omissions. You're becoming quite the player."

"I'm not playing anything," I protested, but it sounded weak even to my ears.

"Aren't you?" He turned back, sunlight haloing his silhouette. "You could have gone with him. Used his protection to escape. Instead, you chose to stay. Why?"

The answer stuck in my throat: Because something's changing between us. Because sometimes when you look at me, I forget how to breathe. Because maybe I'm not the only one feeling this impossible thing... "The pack school needs me," I finished lamely.

His lips twitched. "The pack school."

"Yes." I latched onto the excuse. "Those kids need stability. Consistency. I can't just abandon them."

"Of course." Was that amusement in his eyes? "It has nothing to do with anything else."

Heat crept up my neck. "Can I go now?"

He studied me for another long moment before nodding. "You may go."

I practically fled the study, my legs shaky with relief. I needed air, space, something to clear my head of Marcus's intense stare and all the complicated feelings it stirred up.

But right now, my room came first. The hell interrogation had given me a brilliant idea about Victoria's note.