I couldn't recall how long I’d remained in the bath, shivering in the water, my knees propped up against my chest and my arms wrapped around myself, but it must have been a long time because soon enough, an urgent knock rang out from the room.
I hurried up out of the tub and wiped my body as quickly as I could before putting on the clothes Callan had given me. They swallowed me whole. They were comforting. The smell of him I’d come to be attached to clung to the material, subtly alleviating my crazed emotions.
The knock came again; this time, with so much intense urgency that it had me hurrying up toward it, my head conjuring up thoughts of what must have happened. Just as my hand reached the knob, I paused.
It obviously wasn't Callan on the other side of the door, but from the way whoever it was pounded on the door, they also knew it wasn't Callan in the room. Slowly, I backed away from it, wiping my sweaty palms on the pants I was wearing.
“Sophia! Open up!” Ryder’s loud voice yelled out, and I stumbled on my steps as I immediately went back to the door and pulled it open.
Ryder marched inside, shoving me aside, and behind him was a smallish woman carrying what looked eerily similar to—
My trunk!
I didn't have the time to focus on that because Ryder grabbed me by the arm, spinning me to face him. His hold on my arm was painful, and I bit the insides of my lips to keep from making any noise.
“What trouble have you…” His words were cut short as his wide eyes assessed me, making their way down to my toes and back up.
“What are you wearing?” he barked.
It was obvious Ryder hated me, or perhaps hate wasn't strong enough to describe it. The man found me utterly revolting, I could see it in his eyes, and perhaps tonight I was done with it, done with people like him.
I pulled away from his hold and took a step back from him before wrapping my arms around myself, attempting to block out the frigid air.
“Callan asked me to wait here,” I said.
My words seemed to only heighten his emotions, “Callan?” he asked, his tone laced with disbelief. “It’s Alpha Callan to you. Do you understand that?”
I simply stared back at him.
I could tell he was simmering from how ruddy his complexion had gone to the veins popping out by the side of his neck, and with how tightly wound he was, it was a wonder he had yet to combust from such intense rage.
“What did you do?” his eyes burned into my skin, almost searing it. “The whole manor is in disarray over something, and Callan has ordered us to leave here in the middle of the bloody night!”
They were leaving?
I’ll take care of it.
I could hear Callan’s voice promising me from minutes ago. Was this what he meant? And my eyes moved to my trunk in the servant's hand. He was taking me away in the middle of the night. My heart soared with emotions. I had no idea how I’d walked away from the stables, but I had simply found myself here, and somehow, when he’d opened the door and I’d seen the look in his eyes, I knew I was in safe hands and that I could trust him.
Just as I opened my mouth to say something to Ryder, I was interrupted by heavy stomping that led down to Callan’s room.
At once, four warriors appeared in front of the open door, and with a bow at Ryder, they stepped into the room and dispersed through it, picking up items distributed across the room.
“I packed up all I could, Miss Sophia,” the servant said, speaking up for the first time.
“I can't believe this!” Ryder groaned pacing about the room, running his hands through his hair.
I turned to the servant. “Thank you.”
“You shut up!” Ryder screamed, pointing a finger at me.
“What is your problem with me?” I spoke up finally, I wasn't any of his business, and it made no sense that he was lashing out at me like this. I couldn't grasp if my sudden effrontery had to do with the fact that tonight I had killed someone, but I would be damned if I allowed Ryder to get away with being verbally aggressive toward me for absolutely no reason.
He was taken aback by my words. “My problem with you is that I know your kind, the ones who try to slither their way into places they don't belong.” He took a step closer to me. “Tell me, how did you do it? Is it black magic? A sorcerer’s power to elicit these emotions in Callan and have him wrapped around your tiny little fingers?”
It was incredible to see the lengths Ryder would reach just to rationalize this. It could never make sense to him that this was natural, so here he was, grasping at straws, drawing up the most absurd conclusion, and I was too exhausted to want to deal with this. My head was weighing a ton against my neck, and my body felt completely depleted of its energy.
I had killed someone tonight, and that was enough to weigh on my thoughts. I hadn't just killed any person—I had killed Alexander, and despite my outward bravado, it was a facade. I was scared, terrified out of my senses.
My mind was torn between saving myself and facing the punishment for my crimes. I walked away from Ryder and sat on the sofa, and with a heave, I buried my face into my palms.
This night had beautifully plummeted into a nightmare and maybe this was what this all was—a dream so realistic that my life unraveled right in front of my eyes, but when I tugged at my hair and I felt the pain, I knew this was really happening.
“I can't run away,” I muttered to myself, shaking my head. It wasn't the right thing to do. I hadn't meant to kill him, but I had. I had his death hanging over my head now, and it was cowardice to run from the repercussions of my actions.
Callan appeared so suddenly in the room that I had barely been able to perceive his presence, but when I looked up at him and saw the expression on his face, it had me on my feet, a sinking feeling settling on my stomach.
His eyes searched the room before meeting mine. He approached me with quick strides.
“Come on.” He grabbed me by the wrist and turned on his heels, leaving me to stumble after him.
“Sophia and I will go ahead,” he said to Ryder. “Make sure no one comes after us.”
And with that, he marched out of the room, still pulling me after him. Something else had happened, enough to have him in such a hurry.
I planted my feet on the floor, halting our steps. “I’m not going,” I said, aware of the tears that had gathered in my eyes.
His back remained to me for a few more seconds, and I saw him take in a breath before he turned to me. “Yes, you are,” he said through gritted teeth.
I shook my head. “You have no idea, Callan. I have to face what I’ve done, and even though I didn't mean to, I still did it, and I can't… I just can't run away from it.”
His eyes held understanding, and I saw him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing just before he swooped down, his arms wrapping around my midsection to hoist me off the floor before throwing me up his shoulders.
He continued walking with easy strides.