Chapter 171
Sophie was pacing the living room when I walked in, her vibrant auburn hair bouncing with every step. She had that mischievous glint in her eyes that always made me wary. I folded my arms, leaning against the doorframe as I observed her antics.
"Alright, Sophie," I said, breaking the silence. "What’s going on? And don’t tell me ‘nothing’ because that look on your face screams trouble."
She froze mid-step, turning to face me with an innocent smile that didn’t fool me for a second. “Trouble? Me? Never. But since you’re asking…”
I sighed and sat on the couch, gesturing for her to spill whatever was on her mind. Sophie didn’t need much prompting.
“I’ve been thinking about Jake,” she started, her tone casual, though I could tell she was about to drop something big. “And about you.”
“What about us?” I asked cautiously.
She plopped down beside me, resting her chin on her palm. “Ayla, it’s been months. You’ve been amazing with the twins, a great Luna, and honestly, you’re the best thing that’s happened to this pack since Prisca. But Jake…”
My chest tightened at the mention of her name. Prisca. The ghost who lingered in every room, every conversation, every decision Jake made. I had done my best to honor her memory while carving out my own place here, but it wasn’t easy.
“What about Jake?” I asked quietly.
Sophie’s expression softened. “He’s stuck, Ayla. He loves you, but he’s afraid to let himself move on. He feels like he’s betraying Prisca by loving you, even though I know for a fact she wouldn’t have wanted him to be this miserable.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I knew Jake was struggling, but hearing it laid out so plainly made it feel heavier.
“I don’t want to pressure him,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You don’t have to,” Sophie said firmly. “You just need to remind him that it’s okay. That the Moon Goddess gave him another chance at love for a reason. Prisca wouldn’t want him to be alone, Ayla. She’d want him to be happy, and you’re the one who can give him that.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Fatima walked in, a smirk plastered across her face. She must have overheard because she jumped into the conversation without missing a beat.
“Who said you have to pressure him?” Fatima said, plopping down on the other side of me. “You just need to be hot and sexy. Trust me, he won’t be able to resist.”
I laughed despite myself. “You two are ridiculous.”
“No, we’re right,” Sophie said, grinning. “And we’ve already taken the first step to help you out.”
“What does that mean?” I asked warily.
Sophie exchanged a sly glance with Fatima, and my stomach sank.
“Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand and dragging me toward my bedroom.
When we reached my wardrobe, I froze. Gone were my comfortable, modest clothes. In their place were tight dresses, short skirts, and revealing tops.
“What… what did you do?” I asked, horrified.
Sophie crossed her arms, looking proud of herself. “I replaced your wardrobe. You’re welcome.”
“Welcome?” I spun around to face her, my face heating. “Sophie, I can’t wear this stuff!”
Fatima snickered. “Oh, you can. And you will. Trust me, Jake’s going to notice.”
Before I could argue further, the two of them walked out, giggling like schoolgirls. I stared at the new clothes, a mix of annoyance and dread bubbling inside me.
The next morning, I reluctantly pulled on a body-hugging black dress. It clung to me in all the wrong places—or all the right ones, depending on who you asked—and the neckline revealed more cleavage than I was comfortable with. At least it was long enough to cover my legs.
I was playing with the twins in the nursery when Jake walked in. His footsteps halted at the doorway, and I glanced up to find him staring at me.
His eyes darkened, his gaze lingering on the curve of my hips and the exposed skin above my neckline. His ears turned red, and without a word, he spun around and walked out.
I smirked. Maybe Sophie and Fatima were onto something after all.
The next day, I wasn’t so lucky. Almost everything in my wardrobe was either too tight, too short, or both. I ended up in a short, sleeveless jumpsuit that barely reached mid-thigh. It was black and clung to me like a second skin.
I was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of stew, when Jake walked in.
“Ayla—” His voice cut off as he froze, his eyes scanning me from head to toe.
“Good morning,” I said, trying to sound casual despite the way his gaze made my skin tingle.
He growled low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver down my spine. Before I knew it, he was behind me, his hands gripping my waist as he pressed me against the counter.
“You’re pushing it,” he murmured, his voice rough.
“Pushing what?” I asked innocently, though my heart was racing.
His lips brushed against my neck as he sniffed my skin, his breath hot against my ear. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”
I swallowed hard, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Jake…”
He pulled back suddenly, his jaw tight and his eyes burning with restrained desire. Without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving me breathless and confused.
Later that evening, I confronted Sophie and Fatima in the living room.
“Alright, you two,” I said, crossing my arms. “This needs to stop.”
Fatima grinned. “Oh, come on, Ayla. It’s working, isn’t it?”
“Working?” I echoed. “He’s avoiding me now!”
“No, he’s not,” Sophie said, shaking her head. “He’s just processing. Trust me, Ayla. He’s noticing you in a way he hasn’t before. And that’s a good thing.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t know, you guys. This feels… wrong.”
“It’s not wrong,” Sophie said firmly. “It’s love. Sometimes, people just need a little push.”
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