Chapter 4

Jane

The sun rose slowly over Brookside, casting a soft golden light over the sleepy town as I made my way towards the quaint little church nestled at its heart. Sunday mornings had always been a time for quiet reflection, a chance to escape the chaos of the world and find solace in the comforting embrace of faith.

As I entered the church, the familiar scent of incense and polished wood washed over me like a warm embrace, soothing my frazzled nerves and quieting the tumultuous thoughts that swirled inside my mind. It was a welcome respite from the relentless pace of life outside, a sanctuary where I could find peace in the midst of chaos.

But today, as I took my seat in the wooden pew and bowed my head in prayer, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at the edges of my consciousness. Rumours had been circulating through town for days, just rumours of a certain Alpha who had returned to Brookside after years of absence, stirring up memories and emotions that I had long since buried deep within my heart.

Nicholas Sokolov.

He was the Alpha who had rejected me as his mate all those years ago, despite the undeniable bond that had tethered us together since birth. And now, after years of silence, he was back in town, his presence looming like a dark shadow over everything I held dear.

As the church filled with the soft murmur of whispered prayers and hymns, I couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding settle over me like a heavy blanket. What did Nicholas Sokolov want? Why had he returned to Brookside after all this time? And most importantly, what did his presence mean for me and the fragile peace I had worked so hard to build?

Lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed when Sarah slipped into the pew beside me, her eyes bright with excitement as she leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

"Did you hear, Jane?" she murmured, her voice barely audible over the swell of voices around us. "Nicholas Sokolov is back in town. Can you believe it?"

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name, a rush of emotions flooding through me like a tidal wave. Memories of our shared past danced behind my eyelids, each one more vivid and painful than the last.

I forced a smile, trying to push aside the doubts and fears that threatened to consume me. "Yes, I heard," I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside me. "But it doesn't matter, Sarah. He's married now, remember? To my stepsister, Isabel."

Sarah's eyes widened in surprise, as if she had forgotten this crucial detail. "Oh, right," she said, her voice tinged with confusion. "I guess I forgot about that. But still, it's exciting, isn't it? To have him back in town after all this time?"

I nodded, but inside, my heart was aching with longing and regret. Nicholas Sokolov may have moved on with his life, but for me, the wounds of the past were still raw and tender, a constant reminder of the love I had lost and the dreams that had been shattered.

                                                                                      __

The afternoon sun filtered weakly through the curtains of my small apartment, casting a soft glow over the dimly lit living room where I sat, huddled on the worn-out sofa with a blanket wrapped tightly around my shoulders. The TV served more as background noise, with the sound of distant laughter and chatter a stark contrast to the heavy silence that enveloped the room, while I spent my time scrolling through social media.

I glanced down at myself, taking in the sight of the faded pajamas and unkempt hair that marked me as a far cry from the polished and put-together woman I once dreamed of becoming. But today, like most days, I had little energy or motivation to make myself presentable. I was content to wallow in my own misery, to lose myself in the mindless distraction of daytime television and fitful naps.

As I closed my eyes and drifted into a restless slumber, a sudden knock on the door startled me awake, sending a shiver of surprise and anxiety coursing through my veins. Who could possibly be visiting me on a Thursday afternoon?

With a heavy heart, I made my way to the door, each step heavy with a sense of dread that seemed to weigh me down like an anchor. And when I finally opened it, the sight that greeted me was enough to make my blood run cold.

Standing on the threshold, her blonde hair gleaming in the soft light, was Isabel, the woman who had stolen my mate, the woman who had turned my world upside down and left me drowning in a sea of despair. And as I took in her flawless appearance, her designer clothes and perfectly coiffed hair, I couldn't help but feel a pang of envy twist in my gut.

"Jane," she greeted me, her voice smooth and composed. "May I come in?"

I hesitated for a moment, the bitter taste of resentment lingering on my tongue. But then, with a resigned sigh, I stepped aside and allowed her to enter, closing the door behind her with a soft click. She was still my step-sister.

Isabel surveyed the room with a critical eye, her gaze lingering on the clutter and disarray that surrounded us. "My, my, Jane," she remarked, her voice tinged with thinly veiled contempt. "You certainly haven't changed much, have you? Still living in this dingy little apartment, still wasting away your days in front of the TV."

I bristled at her words, the familiar sting of shame and inadequacy burning hot against my skin. But before I could respond, Isabel continued, her voice smooth and calculating.

"I came to talk to you, Jane," she said, her tone deceptively gentle. "About Nicholas."

My heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name, a rush of emotions flooding through me like a tidal wave. Despite everything, despite the pain and betrayal that lay between us, I couldn't help but still feel a flicker of longing for the man who had once been my mate.

But as Isabel spoke, I felt a sense of clarity wash over me like a cold shower. Nicholas may have chosen her over me, but that didn't mean I had to continue to be so pathetic, allowing past circumstances to dictate my life.

I squared my shoulders and met Isabel's gaze head-on, the fire of determination burning bright in my eyes. "I don't want to talk about Nicholas," I said, my voice steady despite the tremor of fear that still lingered beneath the surface. "And I certainly don't want to talk to you. So if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do today."

And with that, I turned on my heel and walked towards the door, opening it for her, leaving Isabel standing alone in the dimly lit entrance, her mask of perfection slipping for just a moment to reveal the cold and calculating woman beneath. For the first time in a long time, I felt a sense of empowerment wash over me, a glimmer of hope that for once, I could set boundaries and avoid being entangled in Isabel’s life.