41
Ismell someone else around. Just a head’s up, Noah mindlinks.
It’s painfully early, but I couldn’t be happier to join Noah on his morning perimeter run. We scope the forest’s outline, tracing a trail that must’ve been flattened by his paws a thousand times over. Noah extends his scent around the territory’s edge. It’s potent enough to burrow into my fur as I fly behind him.
But Noah has been avoiding my eyes. Just to tease him, I bound up to his side with our bundled-up picnic blanket hooked over my bottom fangs.
Noah gives a small “roo,” and my ears stick straight up. No, Goddess, no, why did you have to pick up the picnic bag in your little mouth like that? You look like a happy pup taking her lunch to school. Fuck, I’m about to die.
As I wiggle through my excitement, Noah blasts ahead of me, leaving me in his leafy aftermath.
I know Noah holds himself back for me. Speed isn’t the problem - I’ve surprised myself with my agility, and Noah’s size and power set him apart more than speed. But Noah’s true advantage is knowing this forest’s ins and outs like it’s a map of his own features. Every dip and hill is a steady, unhindered climb for his wise paws, whereas everything for my wolf is dazzling new.
I’m busy ogling his shiny black coat in the morning sunlight when an Alpha wolf bursts through the brush, running alongside us. Except it’s not a friendly sprint - he’s staring Noah down. I scamper to a halt, but Noah lunges at the Alpha, scaring him away with a swipe of his massive paw.
Fear slams me into the ground, and I tuck my tail as hard as it can press against my belly. Part of me hates myself for cowering instead of having Noah’s back, but the surprise attack must hit an old trauma bruise. My heart hammers so hard that my vision blurs, sending me in frantic zig zags as I race for cover. I dive into the bushes, and instinct curls my tail over my black nose. The second I know I’m safe, my focus locks on my mate.
Noah’s optical size has grown considerably, his black fur raised on end. It flutters in the wind, carrying his furious scent. He keeps his eyes glued on the stranger wolf in the distance as the Alpha bolts through the field, escaping Greenfield Forest faster than I believed possible.
As soon as the Alpha is gone, I give my coat a hearty shake. I hope Noah was too busy to notice how skittish I was despite my legs still quivering. Our picnic sack is abandoned in the leaves, toppled onto its side after my careful effort to hold it upright. I quickly hook its tied corners back over my bottom jaw.
I’ve been dying to complete this daily run with Noah for so long. If my annoying, lingering trauma symptoms sour the moment, I don’t think I could hide my disappointment.
But as Noah flips one ear back at my approach, glancing at me in his peripherals, he gives an irritated sneeze. Why they choose to come at me while I’m with my most precious wolf is beyond me. They’re not getting soft Noah.
My tail wags, grateful he’s lifting the mood for us. Are you okay?
I’m okay as long as you are. He studies me closely. I lower my head on instinct, sensitive to my Alpha’s stare.
I’m okay, thanks to you.
In case he’s not convinced, I drag myself along his windblown fur, relishing in the icy chill feathered through it.
At my touch, Noah’s excitement skyrockets. Before I have time to pant in adoration, his zoomies send him racing for the den. I’m forced to chase him, but I adore it, relishing every second of our combined thrill gracing my bones.
Wait, where are we going? Don’t we still have to finish our perimeter run?I ask.
Noah peeks at the sky, then back to me. We traced a little further than my section for today since you seemed so excited. It’s already been an hour.
My ears flip forward. An hour?! Are you sure you’re not just shortening it for me? I’m okay, really–
Noah gives a brief howl, sending birds flying through the trees a half mile ahead of us. As a few neighboring howls echo in the distance, Noah’s sprint boosts, sending his tongue out sideways. I slink into the ground, stretching my neck and limbs with every leap to catch up with him. What I’m sure about is that you’re fast as fuck. Faster than Yas, even. Look at you - you’re living for this. When he peeks over his shoulder, his fiery eyes send a jolt through me. It’s been that long because you’re a natural, Omega.
I’m so shocked that I lose my stride, slowing to a regular run. Noah adapts like it’s nothing for him. After a quick, pouncing circle around me, he yips in excitement at my frazzled stare and bolts on ahead.
Could I really be a natural at something? Is that what this feeling is? Air flows through my outstretched paws, lifting my heart up with it.
But I can’t relish in too much happiness; a twinge of unease stations itself at the base of Noah’s emotions. Noah tries his best to bound through the forest with his usual spritely mayhem, but he can’t hide the subtle droop in his ears.
His paws slow at the riverside, guiding us through the riverbed flora without crushing any of the early summer flowers. Noah peeks at me, allowing me to pass first.
I know that look, I mindlink. But I humor him anyway, ducking my head into his den. He boops my butt with his big nose on the way into the cave, and I whip around to give him a playful nip. Noah dodges it, as usual, prancing just out of my reach until I give up, shifting back.
I laugh. “You’re the biggest, most adorable goofball I’ve ever seen.”
He puffs his chest, standing with pride as he moves to block the cave entrance for my naked body. I can’t stop giggling as I rummage through our picnic blanket. My blue and white floral crop top is only slightly wet from my wolf’s drool, taking most of the hit for my long A-line black skirt.
By the time Noah slips on loose, gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt, we can’t stop smiling at nothing and everything, thrilled to just be here together. We spread our green, fleece picnic blanket over the cool stones only to huddle on one little corner of it. I take a deep, blissful lungful of Noah’s leafy scent, melting into his arms.
As we discuss the upcoming week, updates on Rainn, Amy, and Yasmine, and what we’ll cook for dinner tonight, Noah eventually fades into silence, preferring to listen. Our silences have a warm comfort to them, but today, subtle tension traces Noah’s brows.
It pains my heart to think he’s hurting in silence, especially when his smile stops reaching his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I blurt out.
When he doesn’t answer right away, I sit up properly, tucking my feet beneath me. Just when the tension becomes too much to bear, Noah glances at me with heavy concern.
“Y-you don’t have to worry I’ll snap at you.”
My eyebrows raise. I didn’t expect him to say anything near this, shocking my brain into taking a moment to process.
Noah rubs his temples with one wide hand. “Fuck, that came out weird. I’m sorry, it’s just–”
I drop my stare to the blanket fibers beneath my knees with a stinging heart. It sounds like he’s made some assumptions about my past relationships, but he’s not wrong. Could he tell what I was really asking? That my check-ins are out of habit, preparing myself for one of Steven’s old “moods” whenever he showed the slightest hint of upset?
Before I can spiral into my own assumptions, Noah rubs my arm.
“I’m sorry, Aliya. I just felt you get so fucking scared when I snapped at that asshole today on our run, and I felt so bad–” Noah cuts himself off as my shoulders soften.
“My observant Alpha. You’ve been worried this whole time that you scared me?”
Noah nods, and I bite my lip to contain my affection. I sort out his shift-flustered hair. My gentle, sweeping touch loosens his tense torso.
“To be honest, I’ve seen you looking over your shoulders too. Or losing focus on conversations when you hear a sound - someone accidentally dropping something and startling your wolf into threat mode. And I think–” I hesitate, softening my voice. “I think we’re coming from the same place.”
Noah tucks my hair behind my ear, uncovering my face. The ache my words created in our bond amplifies as we meet eyes, but it also prompts us to smile.
“Paranoia’s a dick.”
I laugh. “Tell me about it.”
“But it’s trying to protect us,” Noah mutters.
I glance back up at him. He’s analyzing his thumbnail, softly scratching at the edges. When he feels me staring, he peeks over - rapid eyes flicking over my features.
He must know I can feel him thinking hard, assumedly about the source of my PTSD. But he doesn’t have anything else to say.
He is listening, however.
“Sometimes, I feel like I’m being watched,” I say. Noah stiffens, alarm creasing his forehead. “But I think it’s just PTSD talking.”
Noah relaxes back onto his elbow, but his eyebrows remain knitted. His whirring emotions consume my focus, too conflicting to pick apart.
“What else have you been thinking? I feel like there’s more,” I say.
Noah shakes his head. “It’s way too sensitive of a question. I know I’ll butcher what I actually want to ask.”
I shrug. “Maybe it will come out weird. Maybe it won’t.”
Noah gives me a sad smile, and I drop onto my side to face him eye-to-eye. He kisses my forehead before leaning his head against mine. “Then, I guess I want to say something before I ask.” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t need to know any details. Take care of yourself first, okay?”
I nod, but my heart is racing. I want to be able to tell Noah everything, but the second he said that, dread hit my core. Maybe I’m not ready.
“I-I just–” Noah scratches at his thumbnail again. “I feel like I need to know: where is he? Do you feel like– You don’t think there’s a chance he’ll come back?”
My heart drops. Somehow, Noah sniffed out my deepest fear, setting my nerves ablaze. I burrow into his chest on instinct, struggling to retain my composure.
Noah’s distinct Alpha musk floods the cave, forcing me to blink through its stinging intensity. He growls. “Okay, I definitely need to know. You don’t have to tell me anything but his name.”
I pop upright. “You’re not going to kill him, are you?”
Noah frowns. “Unfortunately, no.”
I erupt into a startled laugh. “Noah!”
He gives me a half smile, hanging his head. “I just want you to feel safe, and that involves making sure he’s not in the pack. Do you know if he’s a Lycan or not?”
I feel like I can’t breathe. “I– I hadn’t even thought of that.”
Noah gathers me into his arms, settling us on our sides. I relish his grounding squeeze, huddling into his protective scent until I droop into his chest.
“There you go,” Noah whispers. “I’m sorry, I should’ve–”
“Steven,” I say. Noah tenses beneath me, not daring to take a breath. “Steven Barrett.”