Who? | The Dhampir (Book Two)

XXVII

Sofia

"Father," I greet our Alpha, Dranula. "Did you find that girl?" I ask and cross my arms over my chest.

"Not yet," he sighs. "We believe she is in the mortals' land."

I walk near the cliff. This place, my gaze scans the whole village. It is almost in the palm of my hand if only that girl doesn't exist.

George.

"I'll finish my training days," I say. Still, my arms crossed over my chest, fidgeting my fingers on my arm.

I turn and face my father. "And still, no one knows that I am your daughter."

"It's for the best," he replies. "You should go to the open field and train."

It's for the best?

I shift my gaze, stopping myself from rolling my eyes.

"You know it's much harder for a female werewolf to be an Alpha," he spits. "It's part of the tradition before. The eldest son is usually the next Alpha."

He turns his back and walks away. "Now that there is a chance of having a female sitting on the throne, it's not even for you."

I chew my lips and ball my fist. I angrily stomp my feet as I go downstairs.

"Saufe, Sofia!"

"Sofia!"

I didn't greet any of them. Instead, I walk straight with a stone face.

If only you are the werewolf.

I thought it was you. Because you're female and firstborn.

I fix some strands of my hair dangling on my forehead. My pace slows down when I see Clarkson, rushing out of George's place.

She even has Clarkson.

I bite the insides of my cheeks, following Clarkson with my gaze. I frown when I see a group of werewolves dragging someone. Quickly, I walk to check the commotion.

"Okay! Okay! You don't have to drag me aggressively, okay!?" I hear an annoying voice.

Her.

The halfblood.

"George," Clarkson says, looking at the half-blood with a worried gaze.