Chapter 310: The Weight of Confession
Micah must’ve sensed the mont was about to collapse under its own awkwardness, because as soon as the last syllable left his mouth, he moved.
There was no reason for him to stay behind anyway. It was already dark, and he had gotten his answer.
Was it sad? Yes.
Did it hurt a little, even though he already knew what her answer would be? Also yes.
But he had said it — finally — and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Like he could breathe properly for the first ti.
And he hadn’t lied when he told her she and Alpha Orion looked good together.
He’d noticed it long before.
He noticed it again now.
They were perfect for each other.
Sophia didn’t even get the chance to form half a sentence in response to him. He didn’t let her speak.
He gave her one last, small smile — soft around the edges, a little sad, but earnest — then reached for the door.
"I’ll see you later," he said quietly.
He didn’t wait for her to respond.
He slipped out.
The door swung inward instead of outward at the worst possible mont, and Micah nearly shoulder-checked the very person everyone knew would show up sooner or later.
Orion stopped with the precision of a man whose reflexes had been carved by years of discipline. His eyes blinked once at Micah — slow, puzzled, almost accusing, as if silently asking: Why are you running out of this room like you stole sothing?
Micah, to his credit, didn’t freeze. He gave Orion a stiff nod in greeting.
Orion raised a brow.
Micah pretended not to notice and left — quickly.
Sophia barely had ti to brace herself before Orion stepped into the room, pushing the door shut behind him with one elbow while balancing sothing wrapped in parchnt in his other hand.
"I think one of your friends almost ran into ," he announced dryly as he crossed the room.
Sophia leveled him with an unimpressed stare. Orion knew exactly who it was.
He made a low sound — sothing between a laugh and a quiet surrender.
"Fine," he said, placing the parchnt on the small table beside her bed. "I do know. I just didn’t feel like saying his na."
She blinked slowly. "Why?"
He pulled out the chair and sat beside her with the weary heaviness of soone who’d been moving since dawn.
"Because I’m fairly certain Micah has feelings for you."
Sophia just stared at him.
Orion shrugged, entirely too casual. "What? Don’t look at like that. I have a fifth sense for these things."
"A fifth sense?" she echoed.
"Yes. The special sense reserved exclusively for detecting people who may or may not be harboring romantic feelings toward your mate." He tapped his temple. "I’m sure every mate has it."
Sophia inhaled through her nose — long, strained, thin. "I know."
Orion paused. "You know?"
"Or rather," she muttered, slumping back against the pillows, "I just found out."
That pulled Orion upright. His brows tightened. "And...?"
She frowned. "And what?"
"You know," he said slowly, "but that’s all? That’s your entire reaction?"
Sophia blinked, baffled. "What else am I supposed to do, Orion?"
He gestured vaguely at her. "I don’t know — react? Look alard? Say sothing like, ’What do you an he has feelings for ?’"
"That is not how I talk," she told him flatly.
Orion shrugged. "I tried."
She let out a half-laugh, half-groan, adjusting on the bed.
"He knows my answer already," she said simply.
"And what answer is that?" he asked, even though he already suspected it.
"That I’m not leaving you." She waved a hand dismissively. "Honestly, how would you survive if I did? You’d stop sleeping, forget to eat, maybe even start a war." She shook her head. "I can’t risk that."
Orion stared at her for a long second before a surprised, helpless laugh escaped him — warm, chest-deep, making the corners of his eyes crease.
"I see," he said, amused. "You’re staying with out of public safety."
"That’s only one of the reasons."
"What are the others?" he asked.
She sighed. "I’m too attached to you to leave you, Orion."
Orion smiled, leaned in, and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lips.
"I’m too attached to leave you too," he murmured.
He turned, reaching for the parchnt he’d brought.
"Are you hungry? I brought food."
"The others already brought food," she said. "I’ve eaten."
Orion shrugged easily, unfolding the parchnt.
"Good. More for ."
A rich, savory aroma drifted through the room as he revealed roasted lamb — tender slices glazed in a dark, herb-rich sauce, still warm enough that steam curled faintly upward. He picked up a piece with his fingers and bit into it, humming in satisfaction.
Sophia lifted her gaze to the window.
Outside, night pressed softly against the glass. Torches glowed along the walkways, casting golden halos across the snow-coated brick houses. Snow fell steadily — gentle, endless — blanketing the world in quiet white.
"I’m tired of being here," she muttered. "I’m going to ask Marta if I can leave tomorrow."
Orion swallowed his mouthful. "You’re still recovering."
"My fever’s gone down," she countered. "And I don’t feel weak anymore. That’s a sign I can leave."
"A sign that you think you can leave," he corrected. "Marta will tell you the truth."
Sophia let out a long, controlled sigh.
She wasn’t used to beds that slled like herbs.
She wasn’t used to people checking her temperature every few hours.
She wasn’t used to being still.
Every part of her wanted movent, cold air, sothing other than the muted footsteps of healers pacing the halls.
She looked at Orion, who was now tearing another piece of lamb with his teeth as though the at had personally offended him.
He caught her staring.
"What?" he asked, feigning innocence. "You want so now?"
"If I eat like a thief, I’ll add more weight," she muttered.
"And I’ll help you lose it too," he said with a playful wink. "No need to worry."
"You’re a big oaf," she muttered — but a corner of her mouth twitched upward.
"I know," Orion said proudly, reaching for another slice. Then he added, almost too casually:
"You know... perhaps the dical facility suits you?"
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