7. Noah #2
I owed a debt of gratitude to fate, destiny, whatever the hell had placed me in the right place at the right time. This kid had the untapped potential to be a remarkable alpha, and I intended to guide him in realizing that.
“Better,” I praised. “You’ve got a lot of power. We’re going to harness it. Use it the right way.”
He nodded, a glint of pride flashing in his eyes before he punched the bag again. Each hit was still fierce, but there was purpose behind it now, not just rage.
“Keep it up,” I told him. “You’re getting it.”
And he did, blow after blow, finding his footing. I stood beside him, guiding, teaching. Because I saw myself in Roland, a young alpha in the making who needed someone to show him the ropes. Someone who wouldn’t walk away.
Roland’s chest rose and fell rapidly, his breaths escaping in short, ragged bursts. His shirt clung to his back, soaked through with perspiration.
“Nice work,” I said, nodding in approval. The tape on his hands were worn and scuffed by the time he dropped them to his sides and rested his head on the heavy leather punch bag.
“Thanks,” he panted, straightening up after catching his breath. The aggression that had been there at the park had subsided, tamed and channeled into something more productive.
I held out my fist. “You’ve got potential, little man. Can’t wait to see what you can really do.”
He bumped his fist against mine. “Yeah?” he said, his excited smile lighting up his whole face. “You think so? Really?”
“Really.”
He rushed to his mother’s side. Zoey crouched down in front of him and listened patiently as he recounted his boxing triumphs even though she’d watched it all.
I waited until she glanced up. I lifted an eyebrow in query.
“Can I walk you to your car?” I asked, hoping to prolong our time together. My wolf yearned to touch her, to mark her with our scent. Slow and steady, I reminded him. If I pushed too hard, she’d run.
She hesitated as she helped Ro into his jacket. Just when I thought she was going to refuse, she nodded. “Okay.”
She zipped up Ro’s jacket and stood, slinging her purse over her shoulder. Together, the three of us walked to the exit.
The gym’s door clanged shut behind us as I escorted Zoey and Roland to their car. The evening air was brisk, a sharp contrast to the sweat-drenched atmosphere we’d left inside.
“Thank you,” Zoey murmured to me, but she fiddled with the keys, avoiding my gaze again. “For helping Ro. You didn’t have to do this.”
“No, I didn’t, but I wanted to.” I shrugged.
A lock of hair fell across her face, and I could almost imagine the softness of it under my fingers as I fought the urge to tuck it behind her ear. I slipped my hands into my pockets to resist temptation.
I smiled as I watched Roland in the backseat, his fingers moving across the screen of Zoey’s phone as he played a game.
“He reminds me of myself at that age,” I said.
“Full of fire, needing direction.” I stole a quick glance back at Zoey, silently willing her to perceive the genuine sincerity in my words.
“Every young alpha could benefit from having a mentor,” I added.
“Someone who understands and can explain what’s going on, breaking it down in a way he understands, particularly at his age.
He’s not a bad kid; he just needs to learn how to harness and regulate his abilities. ”
She peered up at me through thick, dark eyelashes.
Our gazes locked, and I was instantly struck by the conflicting emotions of confusion and gratitude I saw there.
I wanted to offer more than just my presence, to reach out and cradle her until all her fears went away.
But one wrong move, a touch too soon, might send her fleeing.
Clenching my jaw, I fought the urge to close the distance between us, to offer her comfort. The surge of emotions threatened to shatter the barriers of my self-control. My wolf snarled inside, clawing at the confines of my human restraint, begging to erase the sorrow etched onto Zoey’s features.
“ Easy ,” I told the restless beast pacing within me. Although my wolf and I were one, there remained a distinction in how we perceived our surroundings. His were the baser instincts, devoid of the complexities and shades of gray, the nuances that my human side balanced out.
If I let my wolf have his way, if that raw animal concern spooked her... where would that leave us? Alone. Both of us more alone than before. I couldn’t risk it. No, Zoey was worth the patience.
With a huff, my wolf retreated, his frustration a hot ember in my chest.
“I don’t know everything you and Ro have been through,” I said, watching as her hands stilled. “But I can tell it’s heavy. Dark.”
As I continued, the soft light of dusk painted the sky, casting a warm glow over everything.
Zoey’s posture changed, her shoulders tense and rigid.
“You don’t need to be afraid of me,” I said, hoping my tone would bridge the gap my words alone could not.
“I’m not here to cause you or Roland any pain.
Whatever help you need, whatever support, consider it yours. ”
Her face flashed with a guarded wariness, a testament to scars unseen but felt. “Because you’re an alpha?” she asked, distrust seeping into her voice.
“No, not at all.” I shook my head slightly. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Why?” The single syllable was so faint, I almost missed it.
I hesitated. What she was to me, the bond we shared, so inexplicably strong, wasn’t something I was ready to reveal to her just yet. Not yet. So I chose the safer path, the truth that would build the bridge without risking its collapse.
“Because you’re family to Sam and Heather. That makes you pack,” I explained, keeping my gaze steady on hers. “And even though I’m not the alpha yet, I look after my pack. That includes Roland. And, by extension, you.”
She stared at me, searching, questioning, as if trying to peel back the layers of my words to find the hidden motives. But there were none. Just the simple truth that in our world, pack was family, and family was everything.
The silence that stretched out between us wasalmost longer than comfortable, but I kept my calm gaze on hers, where the echo of old fears and fresh hope was obvious.
“Thank you,” she said as she got into the car.
Her gratitude was a soft feather touch to my conscience, reinforcing my resolve to stand by her and her son, come what may.
“Bye, Noah!” Roland’s face was alight with the innocent enthusiasm only a child could pull together.
“Take care, buddy,” I said, offering him a final fist bump, which he returned with a tired but triumphant grin.
I watched them drive out of the parking lot, the tail lights glowing like steady points in the dusk as they pulled away. A quiet sense of purpose settled over me, the weight of future responsibilities both daunting and grounding.
Before I could even process it, the car keys were already in my hand, and I found myself standing next to my vehicle. I needed to visit my mom, and if I remembered correctly, tonight was the ideal time to go see her.
The screen door creaked as I nudged it open, the familiar scent of jasmine and lemon cleaner wafting toward me. It was quiet, the only sound being the distant hum of the refrigerator and the soft ticking of the clock on the mantle.
“Mom?” My voice sounded loud in the stillness of the house.
“In here, honey!” she called back, bright as sunlight, shouting from the kitchen.
I shuffled through the living room, my boots scuffing lightly against the worn wooden floor. There she was, apron-clad and elbow-deep in a bowl of dough, her cheeks dusted with flour. She looked up, and her eyes lit up like stars at twilight.
“Noah, this is a nice surprise.” She wiped her hands, then opened her arms.
“Hey, Mom.” I stepped into her embrace, the press of her body against mine both comforting and guilt-inducing. I pulled back just enough to see the lines of worry that seemed to have deepened since I’d last seen her. “I’m sorry I haven’t come around.”
She brushed off my apology with a wave of her hand. “Nonsense. You’re here now, and that’s what matters.”
I sighed. “I should’ve come by sooner.”
She cupped my cheeks, holding my gaze with unspoken understanding. “Life happens, Noah. You’ve had your hands full.”
I knew when she said “hands full,” she meant more than just the upcoming ceremony where I’d take the alpha oath. She knew how much boxing meant to me, and how hard it had been for me to retire.
Zoey’s arrival in Boldercrest had stirred up more than just my protective instincts, but I wouldn’t get into that with my mother. Not now. I was here to make up for lost time.
“Is he out?” I asked, nodding toward the golf trophies that lined the mantle, hoping my memory hadn’t failed me.
“Like clockwork,” she replied with a small smile. “Every Wednesday without fail.”
“Good.” I exhaled, glad my father was still predictable. “Have you eaten? How about I take you out for dinner?”
“Nothing would make me happier.” Her smile grew, crinkling the corners of her lips—her smile lines, she called them.
“Let me just finish up here. I’m making your father’s favorite cranberry apple pie.
Something must have told me you were coming, though, because I made cookies.
” She chuckled. “Why don’t you have one while I get the pastry rolled out? ”
I perched on the edge of a chair, watching my mom glide the rolling pin over the dough.
I picked up one of the cookies she’d laid on the plate.
Memories from childhood assaulted me. Afternoons, sitting at this very counter after school, eating her cookies while Nate was with Dad, learning how to be a good alpha.
“Mom,” I started hesitantly, “about Dad...”
She paused, a knowing look crossing her face. “Things are tense between you two. I get why you haven’t come to visit.”