34. Chapter Thirty-Four
The morning lecture on Behavioral Entomology lets out and I step into the gloomy drizzle with a smile still playing on my lips. My body feels pleasantly loose from the night before.
Every few steps I catch myself replaying moments with Jamie, the neon glow of the mini golf course, the way his laughter wrapped around me until my sides ached, the easy heat that followed once we were back at the house.
The memory of his golden amber scent still lingers faintly on my skin even after my shower this morning.
I feel content in a way that makes the whole campus look a little brighter despite the rain, the leaves a little more golden instead of brown.
I walk back alone, enjoying the stretch of path between the Natural Sciences building and my dorm. My boots crunch over fallen leaves and I hug my notebook to my chest, letting the happy glow settle deeper.
Last night showed me something new about intimacy. Joy can be just as binding as conversation. Jamie makes everything feel lighter, and I’m already wondering when I will get to feel that way again.
I reach my door and push it open with the same easy smile.
The moment I step inside the smile drops.
Noodle is curled in a tight ball on my bed.
She doesn’t lift her head when I walk in.
Her gray fur looks dull instead of sleek, her eyes half-closed and glassy.
Her small water bowl sits untouched, and the food I left out this morning is still exactly where I placed it.
Her breathing seems a little too fast, and when I press the back of my hand gently to her side I feel the faint heat of a fever.
Panic hits fast and sharp, slicing straight through the lingering warmth from last night.
“Noodle?” My voice comes out small.
I drop my bag and kneel beside the bed, heart suddenly hammering. She gives the weakest little meow I have ever heard from her, barely more than a breath, and my stomach twists.
Everything crashes over me all at once. Only hours ago I was wrapped in Jamie’s arms, laughing until I couldn’t breathe, falling asleep surrounded by sunshine and safety. Now the room feels too still, and the fear is cold and immediate.
I don’t even think. My fingers are already pulling out my phone and opening the group chat with all four of them before I can second guess myself. My thumbs fly across the screen.
My cat is sick. She won’t eat and she’s panting and she feels hot. I don’t know what to do.
The replies come almost instantly. Alex’s message appears first, taking his role as leader seriously..
Just called Chase. He’s on his way. Stay with her. We’ve got you.
I stare at the screen, confusion cutting through the panic. Why Chase? I type back quickly.
Chase?
Chase’s reply pops up a second later.
Already in the car. Ten minutes out. Keep her warm and don’t let her drink too fast if she tries.
I set the phone down and look at Noodle again, fear and gratitude twisting together in my chest.
Her breathing still looks too quick. I carefully lift her onto my lap, wrapping her in the soft blanket from the end of my bed.
She doesn’t fight me, which only makes the worry sharper.
Normally she would be trying to wiggle away or demand pets.
Right now she just rests her head against my thigh and closes her eyes.
Minutes crawl by. I keep one hand on Noodle’s side and the other holding my phone, refreshing the chat every few seconds even though I know it won’t make anyone arrive faster.
Sophie is still in class, so the room feels too quiet.
Every small sound makes me tense, waiting for footsteps in the hallway.
Finally, I can’t sit still any longer. I gently set Noodle back on the bed, making sure she is comfortable, and slip out of the room. My heart pounds as I head toward the side entrance. The RA usually stays at the front desk during the day, so this back door feels like the safest option.
I push the heavy door open a crack and peer outside.
The cool air hits my face. A familiar black truck pulls into the small side lot a moment later.
Chase climbs out, tall and broad shouldered, tattoos rippling as he carries a black bag that looks like a proper medical kit.
His expression is serious, focused in that intense way he gets when he’s in protector mode.
Our eyes meet through the cracked door. He gives me a single nod and starts walking toward me with long, purposeful strides.
I open the door wider and step back to let him in, pulse racing for an entirely new reason now.
Chase slips through the side door despite his bulk, his large frame filling the narrow space. I lead him down the hallway quickly, heart still racing as we sneak past the RA’s desk and into my room.
The second the door closes behind us, he sets the bag down and kneels beside my bed without being told. He opens the kit with practiced hands and immediately begins examining Noodle.
His movements are gentle but confident as he checks her gums, listens to her breathing with a stethoscope, and carefully takes her temperature.
I stand there, bewildered. He looks completely at home doing this, like he’s done it a hundred times before. The contrast between the Chase who grumbles and argues and this focused, competent version of him makes my brain stall.
I pull out my phone with shaky fingers and text Jamie.
Why does Chase know exactly what he’s doing?
Jamie’s reply comes through almost immediately, and I can practically hear his surprised laugh through the screen.
Wait… you really didn’t know? This is what he gets for staying so quiet all the time. Ask him what he studies.
I glance up at Chase, who is now gently feeling Noodle’s abdomen. “What’s your degree?” I ask.
Chase doesn’t look up right away. He finishes his examination and starts preparing a small bag of fluids. Only then does he answer, his voice clinical and even.
“Veterinary Medicine. Sophomore. I spend most of my time at the animal clinic on the other side of campus or doing rotations at the wildlife rehab center. I always keep a rescue kit in my truck, in case I get an emergency call out.”
The pieces click together so suddenly it feels like the floor shifts under me. That’s why the guys called him first. That’s why he showed up with a full medical kit and knew exactly what to do.
Chase is training to be a vet.
He works quickly and efficiently, starting the fluids and giving Noodle a dose of medication. Within twenty minutes her breathing has already started to even out and some of the glassy look leaves her eyes.
The relief that washes through me is so strong my knees feel weak.
Chase finally sits back on his heels and strokes Noodle’s side with one big hand. “There you go, Mittens. You’re going to be OK.”
I blink. “Mittens?”
He looks up at me, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah. Mittens. That’s what I’ve been calling her for the past year.”
“But her name is Noodle,” I say, confused. “Sophie and I named her that the first week I moved in.”
Chase lets out a huff of laughter, the sound surprisingly fond. “She was my cat first. Or at least… she was a stray I started feeding last year. She used to come and go from the pack house all the time. I even put in a cat door on the back porch for her. You really never noticed it?”
I shake my head, still trying to process everything. “I had no idea.”
He looks down at Noodle again, his hand still gently stroking her fur. “She completely disappeared this semester. I thought she had found a new home or gotten lost. Turns out she just decided she liked you better.” His mouth curves into a small, rueful smile. “She has good taste.”
The revelation settles over me, sweet and surprising all at once. Chase has been taking care of this cat for over a year, giving her a safe place, a name, and a home. And now she’s chosen me.
I look at him, seeing an entirely new side of the gruff, protective alpha I thought I knew.
Noodle’s breathing finally evens out. She curls a little tighter into the blanket I tucked around her and lets out a sleepy sigh. Relief washes through me so strongly that my knees feel weak.
Chase sits back on his heels and watches her for a long moment, his broad shoulders relaxing just slightly.
Then his gaze drifts across the room and lands on the window I keep cracked open for her.
The latch is undone, the gap wide enough for a small gray cat to slip through whenever she pleases. His entire body goes still.
The shift in him is subtle but unmistakable. His jaw tightens. His dark eyes narrow. The protective alpha energy that always simmers under his skin flares hot and intense, filling the small dorm room until the air feels thicker.
“You’ve been letting her come and go through an open window?” His voice is low, controlled, but the anger underneath it vibrates like a storm about to break. “In a dorm full of strangers, on the ground floor, with no one watching?”
I blink, caught off guard by how fast the mood has changed. “She needs fresh air and exercise. She hates being locked inside. It’s how she’s always visited us.”
Chase stands, all six foot five of him suddenly seeming to take up every inch of space. “You have been leaving yourself completely vulnerable. Anyone could climb through that window while you’re sleeping. Anyone could reach you. And you have been doing it for weeks because of a cat.”
The words land like a slap. Heat rises in my cheeks, part embarrassment and part defensiveness. “She’s not just a cat, you know that. She’s Noodle... or Mittens. She chose me. And I’m not helpless, Chase. I can take care of myself.”
His laugh is short and bitter. “You are an unbonded omega living in a dorm. You’re not supposed to take care of yourself like this. Not anymore. Not when you have a pack that would do anything to keep you safe.”
I cross my arms, standing my ground even though my heart is pounding.
“I didn’t ask for a pack to monitor my windows.
I came here to study. To have my own life.
Noodle has been part of that life since the first week.
I’m not going to lock her out or lock myself in just because you think I can’t handle a cracked window. ”
Chase runs a hand over his face, the movement tight with frustration.
His voice drops even lower, the intensity of it making the hairs on my arms rise. “This isn’t about handling things. This is about not being stupid with your safety. You’re choosing to keep risking yourself every single night. I can’t stand by and watch that.”
The room feels too small. The tension crackles between us, sharp and unresolved. I want to argue more. I want to tell him that my independence matters too. But the look in his eyes is so raw, so fiercely protective, that the words stick in my throat.
Chase exhales with defeat and picks up his bag.
“I’ll check on her again tomorrow. Make sure she stays hydrated and finishes the antibiotics.
” He pauses at the door, hand on the knob, and looks back at me.
His voice is quieter now, almost pained.
“We have a date tomorrow night. I was really looking forward to it. But right now I need you to think about what I said. Because if you keep leaving that window open, I am going to lose my mind worrying about you.”
He slips out before I can answer, closing the door softly behind him.
I sink down onto the edge of the bed beside Noodle, heart still racing. The argument hangs in the air like smoke. Tomorrow’s date suddenly feels both closer and farther away than ever.
I reach out and stroke Noodle’s fur, whispering to her. “Your favorite alpha is mad at me. But I still want to go on that date with him tomorrow.”
She gives a tiny, sleepy purr, and I let out a shaky breath, wondering how everything can feel so right and so complicated all at once.