Kidnapped Alpha Mate

Chapter 14- The Weight of Silence

Edward's P.O.V.

I stood there, completely stunned, unable to process what had just happened. Sophia—the quiet, reserved Sophia—had actually raised her voice at me. Her usually soft-spoken demeanor had transformed into something fierce, and the intensity of her words hung in the air like a thick fog, suffocating and disorienting.

"Look at the mess you've started now!" Emmett, my wolf, growled in my mind, his frustration echoing my own. I could feel the tension radiating from him, a primal urge to defend myself, to explain, but I was at a loss for words.

"Wow, man. I never imagined Sophia would lose it like that," Jackson remarked, his eyes wide with disbelief. He leaned against the couch, arms crossed, clearly taken aback by the sudden shift in Sophia's behavior. I could see the wheels turning in his mind, trying to reconcile the image of the gentle girl we all knew with the fiery outburst we had just witnessed.

I sank into the love seat, letting out a heavy sigh that felt like it carried the weight of the world. The cushions enveloped me, but they offered little comfort. My mind raced, replaying the moment over and over,. Had I really been that careless?

"Just take a breath, dude. In a little while, go and have a chat with her," Jackson advised, his tone shifting to one of concern. He was right; I needed to calm down and gather my thoughts before approaching her.

I nodded slowly, realizing this was a delicate issue for her. Seeing her lose that composure was unsettling, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I had crossed a line I may not be able to return from.

As I sat there, I could feel Emmett pacing restlessly in my mind, his instincts urging me to confront the situation head-on. "We need to fix this," he insisted, his voice low and urgent. "She needs to know we care."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. "You're right," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.

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Sophia's P.O.V.

Em and I stepped into the dimly lit entrance way, the cool air of the hallway rushing in to greet us. Our shopping bags crinkled under our fingers as we grabbed them, the plastic handles digging into our palms as we made our way up the narrow staircase. Each step creaked slightly beneath our weight, a soft reminder of the house's age.

When we reached the top, the quiet of the upper floor was almost oppressive, the silence broken only by the sound of our footsteps echoing on the hardwood. Sam had mentioned a room—empty, with two beds—and I was eager to just get there, to escape the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in my head.

I pushed open the door, the hinges groaning softly, and stepped inside. The room was simple, almost bare, but the air felt different in here. A mix of dust and the faint smell of lavender, like an attempt at comfort, but the kind that couldn't quite mask the emptiness.

Em closed the door behind us, the click of the lock punctuating the stillness.

"You okay?" she asked, her voice soft but concerned, her eyes searching mine.

I didn't answer right away. Instead, I walked to the bed nearest the window, its white linens neatly tucked in place. Without a second thought, I dropped onto the mattress, face-first, the cool sheets against my cheek, the softness swallowing me whole.

"No, not really," I muttered into the pillow, my voice muffled, barely audible.

I felt the bed shift as Em sat at the edge, her presence a quiet weight beside me. She didn't speak at first. She just reached out, her hand gentle but firm as she began rubbing circles on my back. The pressure was light, rhythmic, the warmth of her touch seeping through my clothes and into my skin. It was a quiet comfort, slow and soothing, and I felt a little bit of the tension start to melt away with each movement.