Chapter 126

Sophia

“Ah!” I shrieked. “Get it off! Get it off!”

Mud splashed under my boots as a rumbling laugh filled the air.

“Mark!” I hissed, holding my arm out like I’d rather chop it off than let that thing stay there. “I’m not joking, you jerk! Get it off!”

That disgusting beetle with its red butt and black spots crawled up my finger, and I was on the verge of losing it before Mark gently scooped it off. I let out a breath, my knees buckling as I sank to the dirt.

“Ugh, that was NOT funny!”

Mark smirked, his hand rubbing my back in that annoyingly calming way of his.

“You’re so dead for that,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips as he leaned in, still chuckling. With one smooth move, he stood me up, wiping the dirt from my knees. His eyes flashed a ‘sorry, but it was kind of worth it’ look.

I shoved him away with my palm to his forehead. “So, you do have a personality.”

I never thought I’d be the type to play gardener—or fisherman, or anything that involved getting dirty. I used to have staff for that. An army of underlings to handle the grunt work.

Now here I was, knee-deep in mud, glaring at a pitiful excuse for a garden. “What fresh hell is this?” I muttered, wiping my hands on my soaked dress. “Honestly, is this supposed to be my life now?”

Mark didn’t answer, of course. Just a giant lumbering man, effortlessly moving logs and lifting bags of soil like it was nothing. He didn’t even break a sweat. But then again, he didn’t seem to sweat anything.

I still didn’t know much about him—why the pack was looking for him or what leverage he could have for me. But I did know a few things.

1.Mark wasn’t dangerous. The guy nearly cried when he tripped me.

2. He liked warm drinks over cold.

3.He hated cilantro.

4.I was pretty sure he could fix anything.

5.And... Well... he liked his back scratched. Really liked my long nails.

I glared at the pathetic excuse for a garden and then at Mark. “You know,” I said, “I used to have staff for this. People who knew what they were doing, unlike the circus of incompetence I’ve got now.” I gestured dramatically to the muddy mess. “You… ever work as a groundskeeper or something?”

Mark just gave me that annoyingly calm smile. “No,” he said softly, like his voice was made of patience.

One word answers. Those were new recently..

I crossed my arms. “That’s it? Just a ‘no’? You had to have done something for the pack to be after you. They showed up, like, three times! I barely fit your big butt under the deck. What’s your deal?”

He didn’t answer, but that look in his eyes softened. “Bad,” he said, his voice steady but warm, like he wasn’t dealing with a storm of frustration.

I snorted, “Bad? You? Please, I’ve seen bad, and you don’t have it in you.” I circled him. “Come on, just a little hint?”

He didn’t respond, just got back to work beside me, his movements effortless. It only made me more irritated.

“Mark?” I asked again.

Finally, he looked up, his eyes meeting mine before he pointed at me, then the garden, then the cabin slowly. “Why… Exiled?”

I stiffened.

I hadn’t expected him to ask that. I turned my back quickly, pushing my hair over my shoulder. “As if I need those losers,” I muttered, stalking over to the row of strawberries. The buzz of summer insects filled the quiet.

I wanted to tell them to shut up, but I was powerless.

This entire place was a reminder to that.

It didn’t help that every time I caught a glimpse of Mark, whether he was bent over working or handing me a shovel like I didn’t know how to use one, I couldn’t help but notice how damn calm he was. Or happy. And I hated it.

In my old life, I was chaos. Rooms bent to my will—or they should’ve. People jumped when I spoke. If they didn’t, they learned fast. But Mark? He didn’t care about any of that.

Sometimes, it unnerved me. Sometimes, it felt like I was drowning under the weight of his indifference, like our equality here was some kind of cosmic joke, and I was almost indebted to him. Because what if I couldn’t manipulate him? What if, for once, I was just... seen? And he stayed.

After a few weeks of pretending to care about composting and organic gardening methods (yeah, sure), I found myself... staring. At him. Again.

I didn’t even try to hide it. Why bother? He was by the pond, chopping wood like it was a hobby, not a chore. Sunlight danced on the water, turning everything a little less ugly—or maybe I was just getting used to it. The cabin. The earthy smell. The life I was forced to engage with.

For a moment, I forgot the chaos in my mind. I forgot the lies I told myself. Even revenge. And that felt dangerous. For the first time in ages, I hadn’t thought about taking back what was mine. But there was no room for guilt. Not for someone like me.

Mark’s movements were quiet, precise, like each one had a purpose. He made chopping logs look like art. He could probably build a house with just a hammer and some twine, and I’d be none the wiser.

I snapped myself out of my stupor, mind returning to its miserable self. “Focus, Sophia,” I muttered, but it didn’t work. He had this effect on me. Every time I thought I was out, he pulled me back in. What was that?

Frustration built up, and before I knew it, I was standing by the fire, fidgeting with the hem of my dress, unsure of what to do with myself. “We need to talk,” I said to Mark.

He looked up at me, face unreadable as usual, cupping his warm mug. My chest tightened. “I… I need to be real with you for a second, so don’t you dare laugh.”

Mark raised an eyebrow but nodded, taking a sip from his tiny mug.

“I’ve done terrible things,” I said, my voice trembling, and I hated that. Hated the weakness in it. It wasn’t me.

I used to be the one who made others tremble—the one who could twist anything to my advantage. But now? Now I felt small. Vulnerable. And it terrified me.

Mark stayed silent, his gaze unwavering. I had to fight to keep my emotions in check. Don’t cry, I told myself. Don’t you dare show weakness. “I was spoiled,” I said, my words rough. “I thought I deserved everything. Was promised it. Power. People. The world at my feet. Everything.”

I inhaled sharply, the cold creeping into my bones. “But promises are just lies, aren’t they? Hopes. I believed them. Used people. Destroyed lives to get what I wanted. And when I didn’t get it, I took it. Even when it was wrong.”

I paused, my voice faltering for a moment. Was I really admitting my faults? Or just pretending I cared?

“I even stole a child. His name was Owen, from his mother… Lauren.” His body tensed, but I didn’t stop. “I took her life, her love, everything, and I never felt bad. I thought I deserved it. And in a way…” I choked. “I still do. I’m bitter. Jealous. And I don’t know if I’ve grown from it or if I’d do it all again just to win.” I sighed. “That’s why I’m here. Rightfully so, even if I hate them.”

I waited for him to yell. To walk out. That’s what I deserved, right? After how I treated him?

But there was only silence.

Then he moved. Stepping closer, his shadow falling across me, but not in an oppressive way. It was like a protective presence I hadn’t asked for. His hand brushed against my cheek, and it felt like fire. Every inch of me went tense.

His eyes locked with mine. And for once, I couldn’t look away. Those eyes—calm, steady—held something. Not pity. Not disgust. Understanding.

I realized why he made me so conflicted. He had the same kindness as her—the one I was always jealous of. He must’ve been related to her. There was no other explanation. Not with those brown locks and that nose.

Even more reason for him to hate me.

Mark didn’t say anything. His silence was both comforting and terrifying. It felt like he saw me—really saw me. All of me. The mess. The lies. The girl so broken she couldn’t trust herself.

“You’re not leaving?” I whispered. “Even after everything I’ve done?”

He nodded slowly. No words. No judgment. Just a promise in his quiet presence.

It was like he was telling me, without a single word, that maybe—just maybe—I wasn’t beyond redemption. And that terrified me. But it also made me feel something resembling hope.

A tear rolled down my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. “You’re… such a weirdo.”