5
Ihold my breath, aching for a response. When Noah peeks from behind a tree, my eyes have to zip down to his human height.
He changed back.
There’s no way this is real life. And if this isn’t real, I might as well follow my heart.
Noah fidgets behind the tree, clearly uncomfortable. I can practically see his wolf ears slinked back to his head, but all that’s left of his black fur is his dark, artfully messy hair and scruffy jawline.
His deep voice surprises me with how delicate it is. “Sorry, I– I had to shift, and...”
When he steps out a bit more, a flash of his bare, golden thigh catches my eye. My heart rate kicks up for a different reason, and Noah must notice, clearing his throat.
“I-I... I accidentally ripped my clothes.”
“Oh! You’re not leaving?”
“No... W-well, unless you want me to.” His heart-crushing puppy dog eyes still appear in human form.
I bite back a smile. Is this the same wolf from earlier that made our attacker crumble into a shivering ball? He’s so shy. He reminds me of my little preschooler students on their first day. And after teaching for three years now, I know the shy ones always end up being the silliest.
I dart up the porch steps. “Hang on, I’ll find you something to wear.”
Rushing through my front door, I quiver through every exhale. None of this feels real, but my body says otherwise – my hands and knees sting from falling, my feet kill, and my chest burns from leftover life-threatening stress. A part of me hopes my pain is proof this isn’t a dream. I want Noah to be real.
Rifling through my drawers for the largest clothing I can find, covering Noah’s bottom half seems trickiest. Poor Noah might have to squeeze in no matter what. Even in his human form, he’s twice my size in width and a head taller.
I never let strangers touch my late father’s clothing, but the gym shorts Dad gave me over twenty years ago have the least sentimental value. They don’t even smell like him anymore. I bet Dad wouldn’t approve of me lending these to a man I like, though.
I laugh, imagining Dad’s stern worry-face that used to scare everyone but me. “Sorry, Dad.”
Darting back down the hall, a part of me is terrified to open the front door and find Noah gone. If I want to protect my heart, I’ll have to accept that possibility. It’s true - he could leave, anytime. Of all people, I should understand that.
After taking a deep breath, I swing open the door.
Noah’s head perks up from behind the side of my house, and I try to hide my relief.
“Here you go.”
Noah takes the clothes with one massive hand. His grip encompasses clothes that took two palms for me to hold. It makes me realize how small I am compared to him, let alone when he unfurls my oversized shirt and it looks like children’s clothing.
“Um, sorry, I can–”
“T-thanks for this,” he says simultaneously.
We stare in silence. I expect him to return my clothes, but when Noah disappears beyond my cottage’s siding, I don’t know if he understood I was offering to find something else, or if I should speak up a second time.
Words escape me as he sidesteps past the cottage’s cover and I catch an expanded glance at his thigh. No, not his thigh. That’s his ass, Aliya. My heartbeat ticks into the roof of my mouth.
He slips the shorts over one foot, cussing and disappearing behind the cottage. All at once, I realize I’m gawking at this poor stranger changing and I avert my eyes.
I need to get a hold of myself. Why am I so drawn to him?
My heart pounds into my ears, unsure if Noah caught me. But stepping into view, Noah gives me a soft smile. Then my eyes catch on his built chest - threatening to burst from my tight shirt.
I gasp. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry–”
“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”
It’s not perfect, and we both know it. But with a delicate touch on my back, Noah guides me onto my porch. I follow with more curiosity than concern; I was already hoping he’d join me inside anyway. But when I open my front door, Noah stops at the threshold.
“There’s... Something I didn’t get to say yet.” He won’t meet my eyes, staring at my muddy teaching sneakers as he shuffles before my doorway. “You asked if I was rejecting y-you?”
“Oh. Yes.” My speeding heartbeat threatens to implode.
Noah shakes his head, struggling to steady his breath. “I-I’m not. And I wasn’t. I’d never–” Noah swallows hard. “I know I’m not good with words, b-but I have a lot to say, and...”
He’s anxious. I want to comfort him like he comforted me.
Running my fingertips down his arm, I give Noah a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, Noah. You’re doing great.”
Noah opens his arms for a hug. I’m lightheaded from my anxious heartbeat, but I step closer to his chest anyway. He doesn’t waste a second before embracing me, cuddling his head against mine.
“Thank you.” Noah boops my neck with his nose, and my heart soars. “I’m just worried I’m scaring you more. You haven’t stopped shaking.”
He’s right – my teeth are chattering with nerves.
“Maybe we can continue this tomorrow, after you’ve rested?” Noah asks.
He pulls away to give me space, but my heart screams not to let him go, even an inch.
Okay, heart. I think it’s time I listen.
I rush back into his chest, throwing my arms around him. “Please, don’t go. Stay with me tonight.”
Noah exhales. “Oh, thank the Goddess.”
He wraps bulky arms around me, pressing my forehead to his thumping heart. I can’t believe this. His heartbeat says this is just as beautifully overwhelming for him, but I don’t get the sense it’s for the possibility of sex. Noah strokes my hair until my breathing slows.
Trauma roadblocks my freedom to trust, so I’m not used to experiencing instant attraction. But pressing against Noah stirs sensations I can’t deny.
I shift my feet, trying to stifle the flash of heat pulsing through my groin. But the second I do so, Noah’s eyes zip to mine. They’re heavy-lidded, and I can guess he feels similarly by the bulge emerging against my stomach.
I would’ve had sex with Noah in the forest, right then and there. I think he would’ve too. But his eyes aren’t hunting for sex as we gaze at each other. They’re relishing in me.
His wide thumbpad moves from stroking my hair to petting my cheek, pausing beside my lips. His cheeks burn bright red, but his stoic expression tells me he wants me. Especially as his eyes dart to my lips.
My lips part on their own, desperate to taste his. And I want him to know it.
Noah sucks in a surprised breath as my hand raises toward his neck. I wait for him to pull away, but he’s motionless, waiting despite his heart pounding against my ear.
But his eyes widen. “Wait.”
I freeze. “Did you not like it before?”
“N-no, I... I did.” He can’t bear to hold eye contact. “But I have to know if you realize what you’re doing so I know this is what you want.”
My lungs tense. Did I break some sort of wolf code?
His golden cheeks awash in red as he stares at my neck. I’m itching for him to touch me there, but he points to his neck instead.
“This is a scent gland.” His fingertips trail just behind his jugular vein. Goosebumps erupt down my chest just watching him, but they double when I’m hit with a fresh wave of his sweet, delectable scent. My limbs loosen, allowing him to hold even more of my weight against his chest.
Wait, his scent meant to soothe me, didn’t it?
I’m still reeling with delicious relaxation when Noah says something I don’t expect.
“It feels good because... B-because mates bite each other there, leaving a scarred mark to seal their bond.” His voice softens until he’s barely audible. But I heard him, latching onto every word.
As the gravity of that scent gland sinks in, my body ignites with an even deeper hunger to touch that place on his neck.
“So when I touch there, that tells you I want to feel bonded with you?” I whisper.
He bites his lips, nervous eyes glancing between mine. “Yes. But marking with a bite is a bit deeper than feeling bonded. Mate bonds are tangible. You’ll feel me, I’ll feel you. Kind of like sewing our souls together. B-but - um - for life.”
I’ve never made lifetime commitments to anyone.
But the urge in me screams, This is what I’ve always wanted.
If I went back in time and sat beside myself in Jenny’s office a couple hours ago, I’d never believe I’d fall for someone tonight. But me, considering committing myself to Noah, for life? Something has to be wrong with me.
But I have to be dreaming anyway, right? What if - just this time - I let myself chase my deepest desires? Follow them, instead of pushing them away to make others happy?
I lift my hand again, awaiting Noah’s permission to touch that luscious gland. His breath picks up, but as he stares into my eyes, he lifts the corner of his jaw. My heart skips. He’s certain about allowing me to do this. Bonding with me.
I trace a gentle line down the sensitive gland. Staring at him, I hope he can feel it. How risky it is to free my heart.
Noah’s eyelashes flutter in delight, which gives me butterflies. My cheek rises against his chest as he draws a slow, heavy inhale, indulging in every second of my touch. But before the third time I stroke him there, he moves in.
Noah’s hand scoops behind my neck, pulling me into a deep kiss. The lungful I have to suck in to stay upright makes me almost as dizzy as his lips - my stomach catapulted into my throat. A flurry of electricity shoots from his warm palm behind my head to my toes. I grip fistfuls of his stretched shirt, and Noah tilts his head to kiss me deeper, his lips’ full weight close to bursting my heart. A small moan escapes me, and Noah pulls back to look me in the eyes.
His pupils are huge, and his cheeks are flushed. What do I look like right now? I’m so turned on that I probably wouldn’t recognize myself.
But I want Noah. My mate.
I lean in to kiss him again, and Noah cuddles me tighter, squeezing our bodies flush as he kisses me back. My hips press against his thigh on instinct, eager for pressure, and Noah rasps through a tight breath.
He snaps back. His eyes are wilder than his hair, tracing my body in his arms. “Y-you smell too good. We have to go inside.”
“Wait, what–?”
Noah pulls me inside after him, dropping his broad back against the creaky cottage door to close it. I struggle to catch my breath from pure overwhelm, gazing into the eyes of the most beautiful man I’ve ever met as my lips buzz from his phantom touch.
But Noah doesn’t seem to want to continue kissing, drawing me to his chest much gentler this time.
“You still seem nervous,” he says.
It’s true. I haven’t been this intimate with a stranger. With how much my college peers acted like hookups were the expected norm at 19, I feel like I seem immature to never have experienced a hookup at 29. Really, I’m scared of being hurt again if I sleep with someone on day one.
But should I be even more vulnerable with Noah and tell him that?
“I’m sorry, I’m just a bit cautious.” My stomach churns, but the concern in Noah’s eyes makes me whisper the truth. “About being hurt again. And it’s nothing about you, it’s just– When you see a pattern in life, it’s dangerous not to pay attention. At least, that’s what I’ve learned. A-and I didn’t know if we’d...”
I glance toward my bedroom, swallowing hard.
Noah’s breath is just as short as mine, his sharp eyes zipping back to me after catching on the bra I left on the hallway floor. “Don’t apologize. You’re my mate. I don’t want to do anything you’re not interested in.”
My heart twinges. “I am interested, I’m just anxious.”
Noah is silent for a moment. “I’m anxious too.”
I feel like he wants to tell me more.
I guide him to my couch by the hand. Three steps in, I trip over my scrapbooking mess from the night before, ready to meet my doom as the coffee table’s glass top inches closer by the millisecond. But Noah tucks me to his side like it’s the easiest thing he’s done all night, righting me on my feet with one arm. I flush, but then I see his shy, flustered glance and my embarrassment washes away.
He’s so damn cute. I’m dying to reassure him.
“Is there something we’re doing that’s making you anxious?”
Already sitting, Noah gazes up at me as I say those words. It has a heavy effect on him, his face reddening by the second.
A smile peeks from his stoic lips. “I want to tell you more, but please, feel free to sit with me.”
He’s right. I’m hesitating, unsure how close he’ll want me to sit beside him and awkwardly hovering my butt over the cushions. I’m relieved to see his amused smile and break into giggles.
When his arm wraps around me from behind, tucking me into his side, I burst into laughter, huddling closer. Noah squeezes me tight, and I welcome his embrace as I lay against his chest.
His poor heart is still pounding. At least I’m not alone.
Noah clears his throat. “It’s just... Wolves are all instinct, but I know humans need longer to feel comfortable with bonding for life. And I want to respect your boundaries. You were raised as a human, right?”
The way he phrased that is weird...
Peeking at my furrowed expression, Noah softens. “That’s part of what I wanted to tell you. Wolves don’t always like humans - too many hunters. My initial reaction wasn’t about rejecting you. I was afraid that my pack - everyone I care about - wouldn’t accept my mate. I hate that I’ll be putting you through that, just by my position, and–” Noah’s jaw twitches. “Well, it’ll probably be a fight. If you’d eventually like to be with me, I’ll welcome you into my life, no matter what they think.”
My heart scrambles until I’m dizzy. But I haven’t felt this elated in years. Whatever expression I’m making, Noah smiles the sweetest smile.
“D-do you have any questions, sweet Omega?”
“Yes. But my name’s Aliya, not Omega.”
Noah’s head drops to his lap, burying his face in his palm before I can see his full smile. “Sorry... A-Aliya.”
My whispered name makes me suck in a deep breath. Noah pauses, having to catch his own.
When I don’t say anything, he speaks even softer. “I-I just registered you as my Omega the second we met, but I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you that without even asking your name - what a fail.” He groans, and I can’t help but giggle. Soon enough, we’re laughing together. “I-it’s just, you smell really sweet. Like the sweetest Omega alive, but you’re also sweet, as in kindhearted, so I just thought...”
That’s how he perceives me? I don’t know what an Omega means to him since I only know some people used to claim it’s the lowest wolf pack rank, but the way Noah says it makes me feel like it means something beautiful. If wolf hearing is a thing, Noah can hear my hammering heart.
But when he doesn’t come back out from his makeshift hiding place, I lift the edge of his palm with my pointer finger. “You really are a shy wolf. My... what did you call yourself? My Alpha?”
Noah slams his palm shut again, curling lower with a groan. “Fuck, you’re so cute. I don’t know what to do.”
I burst out laughing. The sound breaks Noah’s red face free from his palm, but an eagerness in his stare steals my breath. I’m bombarded with a hug, his head rubbing into my shoulder until I laugh even harder.
“Is this because I called you my Alpha?”
“Y-yes. I never thought someone would call me that.”
“Never? But I thought that meant you were my pack leader, so to speak. Aren’t Alphas the dominant wolf?”
Noah was already shaking his head “no” before I finished talking. “Not always. Traditional wolves act like it’s a hard-wired wolf sex based on reproductive organs - that wolves with balls are dominant Alphas and wolves with a uterus are submissive Omegas.”
My stomach churns. Wolves sound as sexist as humans.
But Noah, an Alpha likely steeped in patriarchal belief systems since birth, rolls his eyes. “I’ve met plenty of wolves, and trust me, it’s way more complex. It’s more like our inner wolf’s personality trait, except our personalities boost the smell we give off. I mainly give off Alpha pheromones, meaning I’m more impulsive and protective about everything I care about. There are also Betas with blended pheromones. They tend to be resilient mediators. But you smell more like an Omega, most likely making you more calculated and aware of the whole picture. Thoughtful, warm, and comforting, by instinct.”
I’m surprised by how much this prompted Noah to speak. Not only speak, but also speak from his heart. I can hear it in his steadied voice.
But Noah’s brows pinch, his stare dropping to his knees. “Some people want to call Omegas docile, but I think that’s unfair. I think they’re forced to be scared of Alphas to survive, and unfortunately, a lot of Alphas want to keep it that way. So no, I’m not your leader. That’s not what this is.”
I understand what he means about Alphas forcing Omegas into survival mode. Human men like Steven used the same concepts against me, a human woman.
But today feels different. Noah isn’t telling me what he thinks I want to hear to win over my trust; he knows nothing of my history, and his thoughts on Omegas were unprompted. He could’ve easily said yes, he’s the dominant one, and I’m required to submit to him in the wolf world. But he told me the truth – many Alphas assume dominance over Omegas, and he’s aware of our implied power imbalance. He’s been actively combatting that imbalance since we met, even when I knew nothing about it.
Trust unlocks a new chamber in my heart. One I never thought I’d let a man see.
“Are wolves just as homophobic as humans too?” I mutter.
My eyes widen. I didn’t think that one through before blurting it out. What if he has no idea what I mean?
But Noah breathes out an airy chuckle. “Now you sound like me. It’s hard to say, though. Our pack seems more open compared to what I’ve heard about most human societies, but there’s still a social expectation for Alphas and Omegas to be mated.” He glances at me warily. “B-but I– I never pictured myself as an Omega’s Alpha. Just someone’s Alpha.”
I can’t contain my smile. “Now you sound like me too. I’m bisexual.”
His shoulders loosen, allowing him to sink deeper into my couch like I just offloaded a boulder from his arms.
My heart stings at how relieved he seems. I can only imagine he’s had years of painful misunderstandings around disclosing his sexuality, just like me.
I huddle in closer, hoping it soothes his heart. “So you’re my Alpha, as in my Alpha mate? You never thought you’d find your mate?”
“Not after e-everyone else I grew up with found their mates, and I’m already 31. Especially not a mate anywhere close to–” He dares to peek at me for a mere second. “To someone gorgeous, like you.”
The second he says it, I know he means more than my body. I’ve never felt such a rush of adoring yet soothing emotions, every atom of me whispering, You’re safe. He’s safe.
I grip his hand, whispering raw truths before I hide them away again. “Noah, how much I want you scares me. After the life experiences I’ve had, it’s hard for me to open up. But something about you makes me want to be vulnerable... With my shy Alpha.”
Noah’s sweet, flustered stare flips my heart.
“But I’m not used to these feelings,” I blurt out. “To the point where it’s safer to believe you’ll hurt me. Because then, I won’t be disappointed if you use your power to take advantage of me too. If you walk out that door when you’re done with me, knowing it’ll leave me behind with nothing.”
Noah lets out a pained breath, stroking my cheek.
I can’t believe I just said all that. Even weirder, that was surprisingly easy to confess. Noah is fully listening, focused on every word with furrowed eyebrows.
“You don’t have to trust me yet,” he says. “I’m here now, either way. You’re safe.”
Tears slip down Noah’s thumb on my cheek. But my smile bursts across my face just the same.
I feel it. I don’t understand how it’s possible, but I feel it, nonetheless. I feel safe.
Noah kisses my forehead before drawing me lower on the couch to lie beside him. “Let’s j-just hold each other for tonight.”
“I’d like that.”
Snuggling into his chest, I squeeze him closer just to feel him squeezing back. With every pulse of his heartbeat against my forehead, every slow expansion of his ribs beneath my arms, I relax.
His scent washes over me as he plants a soft kiss on my neck, sending electricity through me. This time, his kiss there doesn’t feel sexual. I feel loved.
Curling up with my arms hugged to my chest, I allow Noah to cocoon me. His warm, sweet scent lulls me to sleep.
The next morning, I wake up to find Noah nowhere in sight.