Chapter 3
“ A re you sure you’ll be okay with staying a few hours? I know you’ve been feeling extra sick this week.” Amy bites at her nails in her apartment doorway, Kira’s arm draped over her shoulder.
Shifting Lexi to my hip, I smile. “Are you kidding? We’re so excited to be with this sweet one—and to get some parenting practice in before we have our huge wolf baby.”
“Girl, that kid really did look massive,” Kira mutters.
“ Kira... ” With my groan, we all break into laughter. We’re not having twins, after all, our latest ultrasound showing one big baby growing just as rapidly as any other Lycan pup at fourteen weeks. This also means we’ll likely have a baby in our arms in a mere four and a half months... or less.
Noah reaches around me to give Amy’s shoulder a soft squeeze. “Seriously, though, you’re both doing us a huge favor next week by helping us keep Greenfield safe while we’re in Sweden. Giving you a break for a date night is the least we can do to thank you.”
“Oh, come on. You all spoil us too much here already, Alpha. We wouldn’t raise Lex anywhere else.” Kira scrubs Lexi’s head, giving her one last cheek kiss before Kira urges her anxious wife down their apartment steps.
“Let’s say, ‘See you later, Mom and Mommy!’” I hoist a sniffling Lexi higher on my hip, waving to Kira and Amy as they grimace on their doorstep. Amy and Kira, leave, right now. You’re torturing yourself, and we want you to go have fun.
“See you later, Mom and Mommy,” Noah echoes, helping me model for Lexi what to say with a small wave. Except, coming from him, these words widen Kira’s and Amy’s eyes in unison. Dropping his head in a flustered giggle, Noah pushes the four of us adults over the edge, laughing as Amy and Kira dash down their apartment steps.
“I’m not forgetting that for a long time.” With a wide grin, Kira drags Amy along faster. “We’ll be back in a few hours!”
Amy waves to Lexi. “Have fun with your Auntie and Uncle, Lexi! We love you!”
Lexi waves back with a sad, quiet whisper. “Love you.”
As we close and lock the front door, I try my best to remain calm. But I can’t help myself; I brace for the inevitable, my heart already wrenching into my throat at Lexi’s potent, pained scent.
Fetching Mr. Wolfy—Lexi’s favorite stuffed toy, a fuzzy gray wolf with massive eyes and long, floppy legs—Noah opens his mouth to speak. But before Noah can say a single word, Lexi’s little face scrunches into an agonized grimace. The first gut-wrenching cry she lets out hits my soul so deep that my eyes burn hot; the grief in her scent is unlike anything I’ve felt in my preschoolers when they’re homesick.
“Oh, my love... I know, you’re so sad.” I rub Lexi’s back, rocking us gently.
“They’ll be back soon. We’re right here with you, okay?” Noah pats Lexi’s tears with his sleeve, his voice so soft that my chest fills with grief alongside Lexi—Noah’s serenity allowing my body to express deeper emotions.
Poor Lexi’s tears shift into screams.
But this isn’t something we can just take away. Lexi’s not only crying over missing Amy and Kira, she’s crying because her first parental bond with her biological parents was ruptured when they were killed. Whenever Kira or Amy leave, it reminds her of this deep, never-ending wound in her young heart.
My heart gallops, a sweet, comforting scent rushing from me in an attempt to soothe her.
But with my scent comes a trace of my anxiety and pain permeating the air. What if I’m amplifying Lexi’s fear, no matter how much I shush and cradle her?
“Hey, hey, you’re okay. While we wait, let’s play together. Or maybe we can watch a movie? You love that rabbit movie still, right? With Bun Bun?” Noah’s deep, rumbling voice extends past Lexi’s desperate cries, but not even the mention of Lexi’s beloved Bun Bun grabs her attention.
“Oh, Noah, she’s so heartbroken,” I whisper.
“I know. Poor sweetheart.” Noah joins me in stroking Lexi’s back. She cries to the absolute depths of her ability, her sobs so vicious that fear strikes my core, the grating tone to her voice begging my primal instincts to ease her suffering.
Noah isn’t just comforting Lexi now; one of his wide hands smooths warmth over my back too.
Dammit. He must be noticing my internal freak-out. We were prepared for Lexi to potentially react like this the first time her new moms left the house together, so why can’t I keep it together?
A flood of Noah’s protective scent fills the air, softening Lexi’s cries. But it’s only momentary; her next scream is sharp enough to send her into a coughing fit.
“Oh, Lex, I’m so sorry.” I sit us down at Amy’s kitchen table, shifting Lexi in my arms to hold her chest to chest. Noah smooths Lexi’s curls back into a ponytail, blowing cold air on the back of her neck—attempting to calm her flaming red skin. But as Noah speed-walks across the kitchen, preparing a damp towel for Lexi’s forehead, her little body quivers hard in my arms, wrenching at my soul as she grips me tight. When Noah turns around, his eyebrows warp in shared pain.
Glancing up at Noah with wide eyes, I feel lost. My breath shortens as I cradle Lexi’s head to my shoulder, my insides somersaulting with Lexi’s loud, heaving cries. I’m supposed to be the experienced caregiver here, but the harder Lexi cries, the more panic I feel; I understand her better than ever. Now that Noah and I are preparing the rest of our lives to include our baby, I miss my parents more than I can withstand.
Amy and Kira don’t know what exactly Lexi experienced on the day her parents died, but as Noah smooths slow, sweeping touches down her back, keeping his voice soft for her, my eyes water alongside hers. The sharp sting of trauma emits from her scent; Lexi witnessed something horrible as she lost them, even if she can’t remember the details. Amy and Kira have mentioned how hard it was to console Lexi in the first couple of months she came home with them, but I underestimated how deeply it’d hurt my heart tonight, no matter my professional experience.
Like Lexi, I know my loved ones might never come back home.
“I don’t know how to help,” I whisper.
Noah nods. “Keep holding her. She needs time to process this abrupt change in her safe space.”
As Noah stands over us, wrapping us in his big arms, I grip him tight. What if he dies from one of these violent Alpha attacks too, and we leave our future pups behind like Lexi? I never want our kids to feel like this.
But just before I slip into deeper fear, a cozy, sweet scent washes over my skin, drawing a pleased sigh from my lips.
Noah tenses above us, a flash of surprise crashing through our bond.
Oh, my God. This scent is Noah’s .
He’s emitting that rare, Omega-like scent I’ve smelled from him before. It’s beyond comforting, wrapping me in a nourishing warmth that seeps all the way into my aching heart—like he’s cradling it until all the pain in me washes away. I slump in relief, but Noah takes an uneasy step back, his chest tight.
“S-sorry,” he whispers. “I d-don’t know why— Uh—”
My heart stings when I meet Noah’s wide stare; he’s mortified by his own scent.
I grasp his hand, drawing him closer before he can second-guess my initial reaction a second longer. “No, no, my love, this scent is beautiful . Look at how deeply you’re comforting her.”
Immersed in Noah’s scent, Lexi’s cries shift from screams to whimpering tears, her body loosening until her arms fall limp at her sides.
“There you go, Lexi. We’re right here with you until your mommies come home.” I attempt to steady my voice, taking a deep breath as I look back to Noah with a wobbly smile. “Keep going, Noah. She loves it, see? And I do too.”
Noah swallows hard, his eyes wide and jaw taut. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable, but it’s almost like his scent is beyond his control today; both of our eyes widen as a far sweeter scent fills the kitchen.
My mate ducks his head, but as he steps closer, returning us to his embrace, Lexi lets out a soft, purring whimper. Then her little arms pop up—outstretched for Noah.
I stare in awe. Not because she’s aching for Noah—that comes as no surprise to me with how loving my mate is—but because I’ve never seen a simple gesture hit Noah’s heart like this. As his eyebrows flinch, his big hands hoist her into his arms, tucking her under his chin in a desperate snuggle. Noah squeezes his eyes shut tight, cradling her. As a far more potent scent spills from him, my heart flips.
I stand, rubbing Noah’s back as he nuzzles Lexi’s hair. His cheeks flame red.
“Oh, my love. This is so good. You’re a natural nurturer, see? And your scent is just what we all needed,” I whisper.
Noah is far too flustered to speak, keeping his head lowered.
I press my knuckles to my lips, my shoulders raising at the gorgeous picture Noah and Lexi paint before me. She nuzzles closer into him, peace washing over her as he holds her little, tired body in his massive arms. Noah softens his warped forehead, his hand sweeping down Lexi’s back through her leftover shuddering. When a different, sweet scent fills the air, my breath catches; Lexi is returning Noah’s loving scent with her own pleased emotions.
Noah lifts only his eyes to meet mine, his eyebrows contorting like he’s near tears. From how touched he feels in our bond, I know this moment strikes a deep nerve for him. I stroke his hair from his eyes, biting back tears with him. Our bond unearths a deep pain hidden on Noah’s side of our bond, but Lexi’s adoration of Noah’s uncontrollable, nurturing scent appears to be healing something in both of them.
“Okay, my loves. Let's sit down and watch a movie with some snacks and cuddles.” Guiding Noah to Amy and Kira’s royal blue tufted couch, I adjust the pillows for Noah before he sits. But instead of sitting right away, he holds Lexi close, stooping over me to plant a shaky kiss on top of my head.
My shoulders soften. Looking up, I steady Noah’s arms, gazing at my mate with a quick look of recognition at how powerful this moment was for him.
Thank you , Noah mindlinks, his eyes racing across my face to absorb my expression—as if he might’ve been wrong, and that I’d still end up judging him for his scent.
Stroking his cheek, I smile. I love you, Noah. No matter what.
Noah’s eyelids blink slower, his taut torso slackening before my eyes. I didn’t realize how worried he still was about his unexpected scent, but between Lexi and me showing him how beautiful it was, I hope he can take it easier on himself tonight.
Lexi has no plans of moving, content to be bundled in Noah’s arms, even as he repositions her to settle on the couch. Fetching a blanket from across the room, I turn around to find Lexi staring up at Noah in deep trust, her hand fidgeting with his shirt collar. When Noah breaks into a soft smile, gazing back down at Lexi, my heart flips into my throat.
Noah, you’re going to keep me gushing over you all night at how gorgeous you are with each other. How am I going to survive when you’re holding our pup like this?
Widening his grin, Noah peeks at me as I drape a fuzzy, royal blue blanket over them both. Lexi purrs, nuzzling her stuffy, red nose into Noah’s chest. With it, she urges out another surge of Noah’s nurturing scent, stirring my heart into overwhelm. Noah’s breath speeds, but this time, he doesn’t look to me for reassurance. He stares down at Lexi, unblinking—as if he’s in awe at how contented she seems, thanks to him.
“You’re her lifeline right now,” I whisper, running my fingers through his dark hair.
Noah doesn’t respond, but our bond certainly does; the most precious hope stirs his wolf’s tail into a happy wag, the sweet sight of it in my mind deepening my breath.
Goddess, help me. I didn’t realize how deeply Noah not only wanted kids, but also needed to nurture. Has he been hiding this part of his scent intentionally?
Noah feels far too shy and nervous about this for me to point it out later tonight—and the last thing I want is for him to feel like this type of scent is a bad thing, especially since shame was his default response. I don’t know what convinced him that this nurturing scent was shameful, other than what’s clear from my experience in Greenfield thus far; this is not a scent I’ve ever smelled from an Alpha.
I don’t want to label it for Noah, but I recognized it right away. Comforting Lexi in Amy and Kira’s kitchen, he smelled purely of Omega.
But what does this mean? My scent wavers between pheromones like this too, but it doesn’t seem like either of us are exhibiting “normal” Lycan scent behavior.
Staving off my overwhelm, I kiss Lexi’s cheek, then Noah’s. “So, do you both want some blueberries?”
“Bluebears.” Lexi’s eyes widen.
Noah grins. “Doesn’t she only know like 50 words at her age? She recognized that immediately.”
I break into giggles. “Ah, yes, you are your mother’s child, Lex. Mom loves blueberries.”
“Bluebears,” Lexi says, sucking back snot. Noah smiles, wiping it off for her with his sleeve.
I straighten Lexi’s rumpled shirt. “Yes, blueberries! Your mommies also said it’s okay if we have some chocolate too while we watch our movie. What do you think of that?”
Lexi’s head lifts, her curls poking out in every direction. She beams up at me with puffy eyes, finally giving me a smile.
Noah’s deep chuckle widens Lexi’s grin. She turns to him, gripping his chin with her little hand and letting out a bright squeal of excitement.
“Chocolate and blueberries, coming right up!” Handing Noah the remote, I giggle as Lexi peeks over Noah’s wide shoulder, keeping her eyes on me while I fetch her favorite snacks.
Noah flips to the kids’ selection of movies for us to watch. “Good thing you’re a Lycan, Lex. Chocolate would be a sad favorite food to have as a wolf-wolf.”
“Choc-it! Woof woof!” Lexi’s volume raises, drawing a deeper laugh out of Noah.
“‘Woof woof’ works too.”
“Woof woof!”
Noah’s bright giggles fill the living room, followed by Lexi’s huffing, excited breath as she squishes his cheeks, marveling at his scruffy jaw.
With one hand gripping the sink handle, the other holding a colander of blueberries, I’m frozen, marveling at them. Lexi plops herself back against Noah’s chest, giving an excited shout at her favorite movie’s opening title appearing on the TV.
As I fetch Lexi’s baby-proof bowls for us to use, my heart won’t stop flipping in delight. I keep checking over my shoulder, afraid I’m dreaming a good dream for once—that I’ll be sad to wake up instead of relieved. But no, this is real.
I have to pause. Staring at the picture of the two of them, my eager hands press over Noah’s growing child in my womb. An excitement bursts through our bond that I haven’t let myself feel in a while, gratitude filling me for a chance at a future like this.
Sweeping my hand down my belly, I resort to filling our bowls with one hand, unable to convince myself to let go of our baby. The deepest love I’ve ever felt lifts my soul higher and higher, and they’re not even here yet.
Noah turns over his shoulder, meeting my eyes. I love you.
I love you so much. I can’t wait to give you this pup.
Noah’s mouth is covered by the couch cushions, but as his eyes squint in the most delighted smile, I beam at him, unable to stay away from his side a second longer.
Carrying an armful of snacks to two of my favorite Lycans, I snuggle into Noah’s side. Like clockwork, Lexi scrambles off Noah’s lap, wedging herself between us.
Noah laughs, freeing me from one of Lexi’s straying legs as it flings over my lap. “Be careful with Auntie Aliya’s belly.”
“Belly. Annie ‘Liya.” Lexi snags a fistful of blueberries from my bowl, ready to cram them into her mouth.
I catch Lexi’s hand just in time, sputtering into laughter as I pry most of them from her shockingly powerful grip. “One blueberry at a time, please.”
Mumbling into her palm as she munches on her surviving berry, Lexi stares at the TV, no longer caring about anything I could say if it’s not about blueberries or chocolate.
Noah chuckles, draping his arm around my shoulders. I lean into his warmth, drooping into the couch in a sudden exhaustion. Just as my neck softens beneath his touch on my shoulder, a mindlink interrupts my thoughts.
I’m so sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t mindlink you, but I can’t help it, Amy says.
I shake my head as I smile. I love you, A. I knew you’d do this.
Just you wait until I’m watching Baby Greenfield for you. You’ll nag me all night too.
I bite my lips, holding my breath to stave off a laugh. Noah glances at me, and I grin, mindlinking him. Amy’s already asking about sweet Lexi.
I don’t blame her. I was about ready to die inside, watching her so upset, Noah says.
My heart flips at his sincerity. He braved so much stress and fear for us tonight. But I blink a few times, refocusing on Amy’s worries as she floods my mind.
How did she handle it when we left? Is she okay now? Is she still crying, or not as much, at least?
Hang on, I’m sending you a text, I say.
Snapping a secret picture of Lexi and Noah snuggled up on the couch beside me, I smile wide, sending it to Amy and Kira.
We had a small rough patch, but we’re all good now! I mindlink Amy.
Thank the Goddess. I’m so glad she loves you both so much. Also, Kira and I are dying; Lex looks like a tiny doll against our Alpha’s massive pecs. Anyway, don’t work too hard, A. I’ll see you soon!
No, you won’t! Take a break, and have fun with Kira! Get frisky if you want to—we can stay as late as you need us to after we put her to bed. Noah and I like to curl up on the couch to chat until late at night anyway. We’re all good here, A.
But as soon as I say that, Noah and I are mindlinked by someone else.
Where are you both? Lilian asks.
I freeze, whipping my head to Noah. He remains perfectly still, his eyebrows knitted. Only Noah’s eyes drift to meet mine, not wanting to disturb Lexi despite the shared concern rising in our bond.
Noah is likely thinking the same thing I am: his mom never reaches out like this. Especially not to Noah.
We’re babysitting Lexi at Amy and Kira’s place. Would you like to come over? I ask Lilian.
Lilian doesn’t answer at first. I straighten, alarm tightening my chest until she replies. Oh, it’s okay. I stopped by your cabin, but I’ll figure it out.
Okay, this really isn’t right. Lilian might be implying something is wrong, but her brushing it off makes me think her situation must be even worse than if she openly admitted she needs our help. And whatever it is, she came all the way to our cabin to confide in us—even though her relationship with Noah still holds an uneven pace.
Noah’s uneasy feeling heightens in our bond, raising my shoulders as he mindlinks me privately. I don’t know what's best. Should I leave you here with Lexi and go meet her, or have her come here? Would it even be okay to invite her over?
When he looks at me, I nod. I’m ready to help her however we need to. She’s been invited over here a bunch of times while we were planning for the daycare, so as long as Lexi is safe, I think Amy and Kira will understand.
As if he’s unable to wait a second longer, Noah’s focus zips off mine as he mindlinks Lilian. Mom, please come over—no questions asked. Are you with someone who can drive you, or can I come pick you up?
No response.
Noah tenses, closing his eyes. When he reopens them, they’re half shifted, a stark green staring back in alarm. Wait, Mom, are you shifted?
Yes, she says. My stomach lurches into my throat. Did she need to defend herself from someone, and that’s what’s wrong? I’ll be there soon.
Noah doesn’t need to speak to tell me he’s alarmed; his shell-shocked stare, alone, drops my heart to my feet.
“Would you like to sit on my lap for a bit, Lex?” I open my arms up for Lexi. Thankfully, she crawls into my lap right away, settling her back against my chest as she continues to watch her movie.
Noah shuffles off the couch, keeping his movements slow and steady despite the rippling concern in our bond. Thank you. Sorry that I’m so worried. I don’t mean to scare you.
No, I’m worried too. Are you going to meet her outside?
Yes. Readjusting our blanket over Lexi and me, Noah’s voice softens for Lexi. “I’ll be right back in a minute, okay? I’m just grabbing Grandma Lilian.”
My heart flips hearing him call Lilian “Grandma,” giving me another glimpse into the future. I wish I felt settled enough to enjoy it.
You don’t think her being shifted means she’s being followed and needs backup, do you? I ask.
Oh, no. If she shifted, they probably already learned the hard way that they fucked with the wrong wolf. They’re lucky if they’re getting away alive. Something else must be wrong.
I blink a few times, startled. I knew Noah came from an intensely powerful father in Alpha Ritchie, but I haven’t witnessed any situation in which Lilian had to fight. With how fierce she can be, I shouldn’t be so surprised Noah thinks this highly of her strength.
Noah strides to the plushy chair in the living room’s opposite corner, grasping a fresh blanket. He’s already ten steps ahead of my train of thought—from what it sounds like, his mom likely had to shift in an emergency, leaving her with no clothes to change into once she arrives.
But by the time Noah opens Amy’s door, Lilian is already here.
I jump off the couch, my jaw tightening as I clutch Lexi closer, holding her on my hip. Lilian is, indeed, fully naked on Amy’s doorstep, hurrying into the blanket Noah provides.
But as Noah urges Lilian inside with a taut arm around her, slamming the door shut, my heart drops; Lilian isn’t just naked, she’s coated in blood.
I thought it was a trick of the moonlight on her skin, but as I set Lexi down on the couch, my head spins at the sight of blood, forcing me to clutch the coffee table. Lilian drips blood onto the floor, each heartbeat pumping out another dribble from beneath the blanket. Her tan skin pales in the kitchen light as I flick it on, gripping her shoulder.
I gasp. “ Lilian , oh, my God —”
Lilian ducks her head. “I knew I shouldn’t have come here to stress you both out. It’s fine. I’m—”
“No, it’s not fine. How bad is it?” Noah tugs Lilian’s blanket open in an attempt to see where she’s bleeding from, but Lilian yanks herself back.
“I said, I’m fine.”
I don’t expect Noah to growl so deeply. “Mom, let me help you.”
“You’re not helping, acting like that,” Lilian hisses.
Glancing at Lexi, I’m relieved to see her still absorbed in the movie—I guess she’s used to Amy and Kira laughing and chattering at top volume, so this must seem like nothing unordinary.
Lilian huffs. “Maybe I should go.”
But as Lilian turns to the front door, she must’ve lost more blood than I thought, stumbling with flickering eyelids. I catch her with a yelp, Noah grasping her other side. We support her exhausted body to the kitchen, easing her into a chair.
When Lilian tears herself from Noah’s hands again, he grips his hair. “Are you serious? If you don’t want me to help you, why didn’t you go straight to Doctor Natalia? Do you still think so low of me that you believe I’d be fine with you bleeding out?”
“Noah,” I say. Meeting his wild, golden eyes—his wolf showering us in terrified, angry Alpha musk—I shake my head. It’s not fair, I agree, but she’s acting out in embarrassment, not hatred. Take a deep breath.
Huffing out a harsh exhale, Noah turns his back to us, leaning both palms against the kitchen countertop and dropping his head. “Sorry. I just can’t believe one of them felt justified enough to do this to you. I don’t even need to ask what attacker profile we’re looking at: Alpha, large, solid or near-solid coat, male.”
Lilian simply hums in agreement, not meeting my eyes.
My heart drums into my ears, knowing these attacks are what we’re dealing with for the foreseeable future. Many Lycans hold a bias against Rogues, claiming Rogues are the violent ones, but these are no stray Lycans; they’re bloodthirsty, angry Alphas from neighboring packs. Similar cases are stopped at the edge of Greenfield Forest by our toughest pack members, every single day, now that we’ve identified ourselves as a sanctuary state for anyone escaping a growing Alpha-domination dogma.
But like Noah said, Lilian is a high-profile wolf. To go after her speaks of a terrifying boldness that only an egotistical Alpha could commit to.
We all know the most dangerous encounters are violent Alpha men; they’re willing to break social conventions to prove they’re owed power. And who can safely stop them? The truth can’t budge their unmovable beliefs, and stopping them physically is too great of a risk for most wolves when Alphas receive the most physical training of us all.
But attacking a globally recognized Elder Luna to this degree changes the game; their private organizing has emboldened Alpha-domination attackers beyond what we previously thought.
As our bond steeps in distress, Noah sighs. “At least this one won’t have the guts to do it again. I’m positive they’re shitting themselves and counting this as a second chance at life, knowing your wolf.”
“You’re right about that,” Lilian mutters.
Stooping over, I tuck a stray piece of Lilian’s gray hair behind her ear, her bun lopsided and dotted with leaves. Keeping my tone kind but firm, I use my serious teacher stare on her. “Luna Lilian, show me where you’re hurt, please, and I’ll get to work stopping the bleeding.”
Gritting her teeth, Lilian unfurls her blanket. The second I see the gashes across her forearms and side, my vision reels. I let out a slow, shaky breath, assessing the claw patterns; thankfully, Lilian’s attacker missed her vital organs, the worst cut down her side being from the second claw, just like I always see on Noah.
I roll out my shoulders, relieved. These wounds are long, but they’re shallower than I expected. I can help her.
Instincts take over, my wolf urging me to lift Lilian’s arm to my tongue. The faster I lick her wounds, the more I salivate.
Turning around at the sound of my purring, Noah strokes my hair out of my face for me, humming in concern. “I know you’re my little vampire wolf, but you’ll feel sick again if you don’t spit that blood out.”
I can’t help myself. I growl at him, my pregnant wolf insisting this is what she’s doing to nurture and protect our Elder Luna, regardless of her mate’s opinion. Noah’s breezy chuckle lowers my hackles in our bond.
Within minutes of my determined licking, Lilian’s wounds fade into fresh scars. Lexi has returned to Noah’s arms, her head drooping against his chest as he fills a cup with water for Lilian. Thankfully, Lilian accepts Noah’s help this time, taking slow, steady sips of water the second the cup lands in front of her.
As Lilian closes her eyes, clutching her glass in both hands, Noah’s arm lifts from his side—but it stays there, hovering. I silence my breath; is he about to hug her?
Lilian’s eyes are still closed. Just as Noah moves in, Lilian straightens with a sigh. Noah yanks his arm back, a flash of his disappointment stinging me to the core.
She doesn’t even look at him, instead turning to me. “Thank you for your support. I don’t want to intrude on Amy and Kira much longer, and I don’t happen to have a spare change of clothes with me.”
Noah’s brows furrow. “Mom, I can let you borrow some spare clothes we have in the car. You don’t have to—”
“Truly, I hate having to do this to you.”
Gritting his teeth, Noah drops his chin to his chest—giving up before they move into argument territory once again.
I get it. Really get it. With Steven I’d give up, over and over again, anticipating greater hurt if I dared stand up for myself—until I no longer stood up for myself at all.
But as I cup our baby in my womb, I can’t bear to look at Noah like this. With how connected I already feel to his pup, how could his mom not see she’s pushing her precious son away? Doesn’t she know they could only have mere years left in life together, if that?
It kills me to watch him reach for her when she won’t reach back.
Doesn’t she take one look at him and feel what he’s thinking in the depths of her bones? She might hate inconveniencing him, but he wants to be inconvenienced. He needs her.
And she’s not there for him.
My eyes overflow before I can stop them, forcing my lungs to hitch. Lilian and Noah whip their focus to me, brightening my flushing cheeks. “Sorry, ignore me.”
Lilian stands, her eyes wide. “Oh, no. Did I say something hurtful again?”
I don’t know what to say. All I can do is look at Noah.
He stares back, his eyebrows lifting as he registers the reflected pain in our bond; I’m mirroring his overflowing emotions, expressing his pain for him whether I want to or not.
Providing me with a steady hand to grasp, Noah guides me to his side. Wrapping his free arm around me, he holds me close to his chest, cuddling a sleeping Lexi between us. His heartbeat throbs beneath my palm as he kisses my forehead, the silence stretching between us as Lilian simply watches.
“Clearly, I have. Maybe I should go,” Lilian whispers.
Noah’s low voice buzzes through me, sweet and soft. “You can stay, Mom. This is just an overwhelming time. A lot to process for all of us with the Summit coming up, and I think seeing you so hurt was a daunting reminder.”
He’s attempting to cover this up. Not for his sake, but in spite of it—sacrificing his feelings for Lilian’s and my comfort.
But I swallow hard, hating how his pacifying words seem to sharpen his pain. Lifting my chin to find his loving eyes staring back, I bite my lips to keep from crying more. Do I have to pretend that’s really all it is?
Noah softly smiles down at me. Of course not, my sweet Luna. But it has to be, with her. It’s okay. I’m okay.
I shake my head, unable to accept this conclusion. I would never want to distance our baby like this. I can’t stomach watching you get hurt like this, Noah.
Shutting his eyes, Noah shakes his head. That’s because you’re not her. This is just how it is.
“No,” I whisper.
Blinking through a sudden rush of my frustrated scent, Noah’s focus flits between my eyes.
Turning to Lilian, I hold out my arm. “Tonight was a lot, like Noah said, but I think we also need you here right now. Will you join our hug, Luna?”
Noah’s chest stiffens against me. But as Lilian turns her head to hide her eyes from us, to my surprise, she steps closer—straight into her son’s side.
He sucks in a shaky breath before holding it tight. When Lilian remains pressed against us, even as our arms settle around her, Noah finally exhales, the weight in our bond loosening just enough for me to breathe slower alongside him.
Maybe this is a step in the right direction, or maybe they will never come around to each other. I don’t know. I just have to hope this is progress. Otherwise, I’m at a loss: as I stare at Lexi snuggled against Noah’s chest beside me, her eyes still swollen with grief, the last thing I’d want to do is cut ties with our baby’s last surviving grandparent.
We settle ourselves back on the couch, cuddling Lexi for a while before putting her to bed. I can only hope that Lilian’s lingering glances at Noah’s turned back might mean something—that soon enough, she’ll finally reach for him first.