Chapter 9- Sage and Sophie

Sophie’s mother entered her bedroom with dramatic abruptness just as she was fitting the last hair in the smooth twist she had wound her hair into.

She thought to herself: There has been a disaster with her father’s warriors, or the meal for the engagement party was blunt, or worse, not enough to feed the deligate of Robinson's pack.

"Dear, we have a little problem," her mother said. "Oh, I can't believe this is happening," she said, throwing her hand in the air.

Sophie didn't panic, but the worried Luna told her anyway. "I found out an hour ago that Master Luna is gluten and lactose intolerant. Half the menu had to be revised. The pack chef and omegas are not happy."

"Mother, it's okay, you are panicking again. I’m sure it will be fine," Sophie soothed, getting to her feet. Focusing on her mother’s panic made it somehow easier to deal with her own nerves. "Just breathe." She laid a hand on her parent’s arm.

Luna Ally took a deep breath. "Yes, I’m sure you’re right, but I’m running terribly late. I haven’t even started getting ready, not that it really matters. The Master Luna—" she lowered her voice and glanced over her shoulder, as though someone might be listening, before adding in a note of mingled envy and despair—always makes me feel inadequate. I swear, the woman gets younger every year! She is not only our queen, but she looks like a Victoria's Secret model."

"Mother, you always look lovely!" Sophie protested.

Her mother smiled. "You’re a good girl, Sophie. And you’re right, of course, at my age, it’s silly to worry about what I look like."

"I didn’t say that," Sophie groaned and rolled her eyes. "There’s plenty of time for you to go and get ready."

"I can’t. I promised Wally that I’d run through the final details with him and speak to the staff."

"Leave it to me," Sophie said, pretty sure she would regret the offer. The Delta, Wally, always made her feel as though she were seven  again, and he’d just caught her trying to glue together a piece of porcelain she had broken. "You go and get ready."

"Really?"

Sophie nodded and smiled at her mother lovingly.

The Luna gave her daughter a gentle hug. "You’re an angel. I really don’t know what I’ll do without you when you’re married to Landon."

"Pretty much what you’ve been doing for the past seven years while I’ve been living in London, except from now on I’ll be closer."

"Of course. You’re such a sensible girl. You’ve never given us a moment’s worry, unlike your sister! Speaking of Cherryl, I’m going to check what she’s wearing. Where the hell is she?" Reaching the door, she stopped and turned back. "You look very beautiful tonight. Landon will be delighted."

Sophie grinned and smoothed the full skirt of the calf-length, seventies-style pale blue silk dress she wore. "Oh, this old thing?"

"And you're wearing your diamonds," Luna Ally remarked, her voice breaking with passion as Sophie caressed the string of antique jewels that hung around her tiny neck. "You know we're both really proud of you, don't you?—your father and I—I wish there was another way. That you might be able to—"

"Nobody is pressuring me to do anything, Mama. Alpha Landon is a nice guy, and I intend to be very happy." She grabbed her mother's shoulders and pushed her out the door. Her fake smile faded only when the door closed again. She reminded herself that happiness was not a birthright; it was more of a wish in her case.

* * *

Sophie didn't go looking for Wally because she knew he'd find her. She expressed her mother's worries, taking care not to step on Wally's toes. He responded to her questions with his usual willowy calm. She spoke with the workers at his recommendation, primarily to thank them for their efforts in hosting the regal party on such short notice.

She then inspected the table setting in the formal dining room with Wally. It was a chamber they rarely used as a household, but tonight the table groaned with silver and crystal, and the lights joyfully concealed a multitude of sins—including the large fracture in the ceiling, which the engineer's report had darkly referred to as major.

There was, it seemed, only one decision for her to make.

"Sophie, have you decided whether we should serve the cocktails here or in the small salon? "

Sophie knew it was a courtesy because she'd already seen the scene created in the salon as she walked by, but she cheerfully maintained the impression that it was her pick and reacted gravely to the politeness query. "I believe in the modest salon, Wally."

The middle-aged man nodded his head in agreement with her statement. "I'll take care of it. If all else fails...? "

"Nothing, thank you very much, Wally. What would I do if you weren't around?" Sophie hesitated and turned around as she was about to follow him out of the room. She strolled across the hall to the row of French doors that ran along one wall and proceeded to open them. The last one refused to budge, prompting her to curse softly. She kicked it angrily with one slender, finely shod foot before pausing to catch her breath. "What the heck is wrong with this thing?" she murmured to herself.

The same high alpine breeze that Beta Sage of Robinson's pack felt on his face as he approached the open doorway made Sophie's voluminous skirt billow around her slim legs. He watched as she turned her face into the breeze, her eyes closed, long lashes fanning darkly against her smooth cheeks, eyes squeezed shut, and let out a long crackly gasp through parted pouty, rosy lips as she turned her face into the breeze, making no attempt to tame the fibers as they lifted and flapped some more.

Her chin tilted, and the graceful placement of her arms reminded him of a ballet dancer. Her head dropped back, showing the long, gorgeous line of her neck and throat, as well as the angles of her collarbones. The bodice of the dress she wore was cut into a deep vee at the back, exposing a half-moon-shaped mole on the crest of one delicate shoulder blade.

Sage felt the fire build through his body and forgot to breathe. He forgot how to breathe as the elegant image burned deep into his mind. Hunger tightened its grasp on him, a basic pleasure or pain presence in his stomach, and all points south. His wolf howled in amazement, wanting to claim this woman. Sage ignored it. Not now. 

There were so many warning bells ringing in his head that he was deaf to everything but the heavy thud of his heart, the ache in his body, and the whisper of sound as the fabric brushed against her legs.

Then she opened her eyes and gave a tiny sigh. The sound snapped the sensual spell that had held him transfixed, leaving behind something that he refused to recognize as tenderness. That sigh had sounded so damn wistful.

She remained oblivious to his presence as he crossed the room. She had both hands braced against the door frame and was pushing against the stubborn door when he placed a hand above her head on the door jamb.

The door opened with a shudder.

"Thank you."

Sophie turned, and the corners of her soft mouth lifted in a smile of gratitude, which melded into one of dismay as she saw that it was him.

Sophie stepped back so quickly that she almost lost her balance. The impact of his physical proximity acted like a live current; her quivering stomach vanished into a bottomless black hole, and it took every ounce of her willpower to stop herself from backing through the open door, which would have been impossible anyway because her limbs were paralyzed with shock.

They call it lust, Sophie.

Ignoring the mocking voice in her head, she lifted her softly rounded chin to a warily aggressive angle and directed a cool look up at the tall figure of the Robinson black sheep. Sage just stood there in his formal black tie and tux, looking as if he had just stepped off a glossy Hollywood set.

"Oh, Sage—you’re um-too early!" Panic made her voice sharp.

"I could hardly wait to sample the well-known hospitality of Savannah Pack," he countered sardonically as his heavy-lidded stare traveled from the top of her glossy head to her heels and back. Sophie fingered the pearls at her throat, trying desperately to ignore how his assessing and overtly sensual gaze made her whole body tingle.

The nervous action drew his stare to her throat, where a blue-veined pulse pushed against the pale skin.

"You startled me. I thought you were Wally."

So the smile was for Wally. "You look…good."

No smile came with the compliment, which was delivered in an expressionless voice.

"So, should I?" he asked with a blunt tone.

"What?"

"Go away and come back."

Sophie flushed and moved her head slightly to look past his shoulder, willing someone, anyone, to appear.

They didn’t.

"If you were expecting Landon, he's waiting on an important call in the... my father's office, I think."

She firmed her shoulders and reminded herself that being pleasant to people she didn’t like was part of her future job. She could not allow personal feelings to enter into it. "No, of course not. You just took me by surprise, and this is a bit... awkward."

"Why?"

Sophie pursed her lips and peered at him. "I have no fond memories of our last meeting."

"I can think of one," he coaxed, his gaze fixed on her lips.

The longer their gazes were locked together, the thicker the tension in the air got. Sophie was the first to avert her gaze, her attention fixed on a point above his shoulder as she fiddled with the jewels. "I figured you were intoxicated, but now I see you're constantly..." Her voice faded as the memorable part returned. His breath had not tasted like booze the other day, only mint and... No, she wasn't going there!

"Incredibly sexy?"

The antique thread of diamonds she was fiddling with cracked before she could respond.