CHAPTER 5

Hidden Truth

Sophia’s POV

Lucas’s face would not  leave my mind. His eyes, his jawline—everything about him reminded me of Nathan. It was as if Nathan had come back from the dead itself, but that couldn’t be real. Could it? I swallowed hard, my chest in pains as grief and doubt fought inside me.

And the worst part of this all was that he was my Fourth mate. How could that be, something wasn’t right.

Whatever the truth was, I needed to find it, i needed to confront him, he needed to give me an answer, and i won’t  leave without one,

When I reached his door, my hands  started shaking. I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or from the different  emotions inside of me. I raised my fist and knocked. The sound echoed louder than I expected, and I froze.

The door opened, and there he was—Lucas, looking just as calm and composed as ever.

"Sophia?" he said, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

His voice was steady, but I could see a shift of something in his eyes. I locked my eyes with his, trying to gather my courage.

"I need to talk to you," I said, my voice stronger than I felt.

He hesitated, then stepped aside to let me in. The atmosphere of his house engulfed me as I walked in. The  smell of leather and cedar was in the air, and I could hear the movements of a fire somewhere deeper inside.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?" he asked, his tone gentle.

"No," I said quickly, standing in the middle of the room. "I just need answers."

Lucas’s face turned serious as he watched me. "Answers about what?"

I turned to face him fully, my arms crossed very tight over my chest. My throat felt like it was dry, but I forced the words out.

"You look like him," I said, my voice shaking. "Like Nathan. You look exactly like him. And I need to know why."

His jaw shifted for a moment. A shift of something—maybe shock or guilt—crossed his face before he quickly covered it. He stepped closer, keeping his tone calm.

"Sophia, I know you’ve been through a lot," he said carefully. "Grief can make us see things that aren’t there."

"Don’t pity me," I shouted, my voice louder now. "This isn’t grief. I know what I see. You look just like him. I need you to tell me the truth. Are you related to him?  Are you a  cousin? a brother? Or is it something else?"

He sighed, and turned away to run a hand through his hair. The movement was so familiar it made my chest ache even more.

"It’s not that simple," he said softly,  turning his back to me.

"Then make it simple," I said. "Tell me what’s going on."

He turned  to face me  slowly, his face unreadable. His eyes met mine, and the room started feeling smaller. The silence between us got heavier.

"You wouldn’t believe me if I told you," he said quietly.

"Try me," I said, my voice sharp and commanding.

He stepped closer, the tension between us too much. His face softened, but there was something in his eyes I was still trying to place.

"Sophia," he began, his voice low. "What if I told you that sometimes, things are not as impossible as they seem?"

I frowned, shaking my head. "Stop talking in parables,  Just tell me."

He wasted time  for a long moment, then reached into his jacket. I stood there stiff,  unsure of what he was doing. When his hand came out, he was holding a small locket. My stomach twisted painfully as I recognized it.

"That… that’s Nathan’s," I whispered, my voice barely to be heard.  "I gave that to him. How do you have it?"

Lucas didn’t answer right away. He opened the locket, showing the tiny photo inside which had a  picture of Nathan and I. My legs  began to feel weak, and I sat down on the arm of the couch, unable to look away from it.

"This can’t be real," I murmured, tears rolling down my cheeks. "How do you have this?"

Lucas’s face changed, I could feel the walls he had been holding up finally breaking down. There was a nakedness in his eyes now, something that made my heart beat even harder.

"Because I’m Nathan," he said simply, his voice very steady but full of different emotions.

The words hit me like a blow to the face.  I just stood there, looking at him, waiting for him to take it back, to laugh and say it was nothing but a joke.

But he didn’t. He just looked at me, his expression a mixture of pain and sincerity.

"Sophia, there’s so much I couldn’t tell you before," he said, his voice breaking.  "But I’m here now. I’m alive. And I can explain everything."