Chapter 11 - Noah
Well, dinner was a fucking disaster. It normally was, but this time around it was even worse than usual.
Dad was always a prick, but when he'd asked whether I was coming for our monthly dinner, he'd assured me he'd behave himself around Sage, no matter how much he detested my choice in
wife. I should have known that was a damn lie, but part of me was still desperate for the approval of my father. Some pathetic, small part of me.
Not anymore, though. I'd burn out that need for approval even if it killed me.
Sage had warmed up to me lately, but I was afraid the painful dinner would reverse all of that progress. This suspicion became even stronger when she was silent on the way home, one hand absently resting on her lower belly even though her cramp had already dissipated.
I should have made some sort of excuse, postponed the dinner until Sage and I had finally connected the way I wanted us to. If we had provided a united front to my father, maybe he would have backed down.
Probably not, if I were being honest with myself. But it would have been easier, at least. Now I wasn't sure if she hated me just as much as she did the night I kidnapped her or not. Sage wasn't exactly chatty with me on the best of days, and I wasn't going to risk asking her how she felt.
My father had gone for the throat as soon as Sage was out of earshot, cutting into me and my mate until I couldn't swallow another drop of the bitterness he was spewing. I hated myself for even trying to be civil. But I still hated him more.
By the time we made it home, I was in the mood to punch something until my knuckles bled, but I'd grown out of that sort of impulsive shit a long time ago.
Sage's silence wasn't helping my mood, though.
It wasn't like I blamed her, but the way she had folded in on herself was like salt in the wound.
I couldn't stop myself from reaching for her when we made it home, but when my hand connected with her shoulder, she whipped around, rust-red hair falling over her forehead.
"Sage..."
"I know that tone. Don't." She snapped. "Don't you dare apologize for him."
She opened the door and went inside, leaving me standing in the cool night air before I gathered myself enough to follow her inside.
She might have insisted I didn't need to apologize, but I did.
I was the one who put us in that situation, who left her open to ridicule from someone who had already caused a significant amount of grief in her life.
I wanted her to know I was sorry. I wanted her to know that I cared, even if I failed over and over again at proving it. And if I couldn't show her with my words, I'd show her with my body...if she'd only let me.
Fuck, I wanted her. My desire had teeth when it hit me, almost painful in its strength. I was always hungry for her, but something was making my tether even shorter than before.
I should have let her have her space, but instead, I followed her. Her scent, thick, cloying, and addictive, perfumed the hallway. It took everything in me not to follow her into her bedroom, not to pin her against the wall and kiss her senseless.
That's all I would need. Just one kiss, one taste of her lips. She wouldn't deny me then.
Fuck. No, it was more than that. I wanted more than her body. I wanted her heart, too, and forcing a kiss on her would likely get me a slap on the face and weeks of silence.
I knocked on the door, and was immediately met with silence. Sage's scent was strong behind the wooden door, but she wasn't making a sound. I was certain she was in there, so I waited, shifting my weight from foot to foot.
"Sage?"
When she didn't respond, I rapped my knuckles on the wood once more. "Look, I'm not here to apologize. I swear. I just want to know that you're okay."
Still nothing.
"I'm just sorry that we had to go through that at all. You shouldn't have had to deal with his bullshit, especially when he swore to me he'd behave himself. Can't we just talk about this? It was a fucked up night, and I'm not asking for a lot, but maybe if you let me in..."
"I'm fine," her voice drifted from the other side of the door, sounding strained. "Just get out of here, Noah."
It would be all too easy to argue, but I bit my tongue and rested my hot forehead against the cool wood of her bedroom door. "Okay. Just...I'm here if you need me."
She didn't respond, but I knew she wouldn't. Restless need, sorrow, and anger coiled in me.
I needed to hold my mate, but that wasn't an option, and I wasn't going to be an animal and force myself into her room.
So I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with her scent even through the door, and finally left her alone, stalking to my office to try and distract myself with pack paperwork.
I knew it was pointless, but there was nothing else to be done.
***
Four hours later, I was almost a week ahead on paperwork, and I'd organized it at least a dozen times. The house stayed quiet, and Sage stayed locked in her room. She wasn't crying or raging; I would have been able to hear it, but her silence was almost just as unsettling to me.
What could she be doing? Thinking?
I'd tried to distract myself with the mundane bullshit, but my mind was constantly returning to the witch locked in the room down the hall. I should have given up. I should have let her go, but my wolf was desperate for her, and I was too.
I couldn't take it anymore. I stalked back to her door and knocked again, not even knowing what I planned to say to get her to respond. It didn't matter that she'd made it crystal clear she wanted to be left alone. I couldn't leave things unfinished.
Silence answered me after the first knock, so I tried again. She was still there, her scent curling out from the sides and bottom cracks in the door, but she appeared to be in no hurry to answer me.
"I know you're in there, Sage. Let's just talk."
A few moments passed, and then a weak "go away" filtered through the door. "I can't do that. You know I can't. Not until I know you're okay."
There was another pause. "I'm fine, Noah. Just please go."
She sounded so pitiful that it nearly broke my heart.
My wolf paced, snarling and clawing, desperate to be with her.
"My father is just bitter. That's all he has now.
He's just a shell of what he once was and.
..he lashes out because of it." My hand splayed against the door as I tried to get closer to her, even if it was just by millimeters.
"And I know that doesn't excuse what he said, but what he said has no bearing on our future. I swear it."
There was a rustling, and then Sage responded, yelling, "Go away!"
It was her loudest communication yet, but it wasn't one that I wanted to hear. I flinched, but kept my hand pressed flat to the door. "Just let me in so we can talk about this face-to-face. Or you can come out here. We can go on a drive, a run, whatever you need—-"
"There's nothing to talk about!" she snapped, quick and defensive. Too quick. I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.
I closed my eyes, sucking in slow breaths to try to calm myself.
Something was off with my mate, but she had made it crystal clear she didn't want my help or my company.
There was a knot in my chest that wouldn't go away until I was able to guarantee she was alright with my own two eyes, and I was teetering on the edge of pushing myself into her room or walking away and letting her be.
My home was supposed to be a haven for Sage, a place like she had never had when she had been a part of this pack as a child.
Her home, a place she could craft to her liking, and that started with the guest room I had given her.
If I barged in, I would be telling her that she had no place of refuge in my home.
But if something really was wrong, and she needed my help...
I tried a different tactic. If the subject of the failed dinner had to be set to the side, then so be it. "Sage...I'm worried about you. Let's talk about anything else, just open the door. I won't ask you about the dinner anymore."
"Why can't you just let me be?"
"Because you're my woman. My mate. I don't want you to feel alone here."
"That's rich, coming from the man who kidnapped me and won't let me leave the property without following me," she snarled. Her tone was sharp and bitter, but underneath that was a tremor, a hitch in her voice that had my instincts on high alert.
"Just tell me what's wrong, wife."
"Go away, husband."
"Open the damn door!"
"No."
"Do it now, Sage."
"I hate you!"
Her words should have stung enough to drive me away, but there was something in her tone that made me pause. A shakiness to her voice. Something I hadn't heard before, and that alarmed me.
I had to get to her. If it made her hate me even more, then that was fine. I wasn't going to be able to rest until I had made sure she was okay.
"I'm not going to fight with you," I warned. "Open the door, or I'm opening it for you." Silence.
I gave her a second. She didn't respond, so I twisted the knob. It was locked. My patience evaporated, and my wolf clawed at the walls of my skin. My shift was right there on the edge of my control, my canines suddenly too large in my mouth. "Sage."
More silence.
I was seconds from breaking the door down, and I knew she wouldn't like that. But my wolf wasn't going to be satisfied until I saw her, so I stepped back and kicked the door. The lock gave in, and the door swung inward.
Sage, from the bed, let out a yelp followed by a whimper so soaked in pain that it made my heart hurt.
My mate was curled in on herself, hair stuck to her sweaty forehead, her porcelain skin hot and flushed. She was breathing like she'd run a marathon, even though she was lying still in bed.
"Sage." I crossed the room in three steps and was at her side. Her body was radiating heat, and the smell of her was everywhere, her usual scent amplified by a thousand. It was thick and rich and made my mouth water. My wolf was going crazy, begging me to strip and claim her.
But Sage was shaking her head, pushing herself up with one hand while keeping the other on her belly. "Are you happy now? You get to see me in pain. Is that what you wanted? Well, here I am! Look your fill!"
She was angry, but it was a hollow anger, something she put up to hide her fear.
I knew then that she didn't need any more words from me, not when they would do little to help with whatever was plaguing her.
In the back of my mind, in the most primitive part of me, I knew what it was, but the moment I put a name to it, I wasn't going to be able to hold myself back from giving her what she really needed.
So I climbed into the bed with her, even as she tried to shove me away, and pulled her into my arms. Her pain was so intense that I could feel it pulsing down our bond, and she was swelteringly hot in my grasp, but after a moment's push back, Sage relaxed and let her head fall against my shoulder.
"It's okay. I've got you." I pressed my lips to the damp crown of her head. You aren't alone."