Page 89 of My Shy Alpha

He’s talking, but my memories are restarting. I didn’t finish the worst part. I shake my head as if it could clear it away, but Noah releases a blast of his protective scent.

“Hey, listen,” he says, softening his voice despite my desperate whimpers. “Look at me, and tell me where we are.”

Oh, maybe I’m dissociating. I try really hard to look all around us. But I’m seeing an overlay of two worlds, too distracted by the one that feels like it’s about to kill me.

“Never mind,” Noah says. “You do some type of exposure therapy with Jenny, right? Was it Prolonged Exposure? This is a flashback. Let’s walk through it instead of fighting it back. Tell me what you’re noticing.”

This gets my attention. “Y-you know what Prolonged Exposure therapy is?”

As I look into his eyes, Noah’s shoulders fall in relief. “There you are. Good job–”

“Noah, you have PTSD this badly too?” My lip wobbles, but it’s only then that I realize my eyes are already gushing tears. “Enough to do PE?”

Noah’s eyebrows warp with mine, an agonized laugh escaping his throat. “Oh, my sweet, gorgeous– How could you be crying for me while you’re hurting this much? Goddess, my sweet, sweet Omega.”

I’m tempted to smile through my tears as his big thumbpads sweep over my wet cheeks. “You don’t understand what I mean yet– This has to be real because my brain would never imagine something this good.”

Noah’s eyebrows quirk up. “That my brain is fucked?”

I sputter out a laugh. “No!” My mate erupts into giggles with me, settling his forehead against mine. “I just never thought my future partner would get it,” I mutter.

After a few short, held breaths, Noah speaks even quieter than me. “I didn’t either.”

As our emotions ramp up side-by-side, a barrier within me breaks open.

“It took two years of bi-weekly sessions with Jenny to be able to function enough to work. It got so bad, I couldn’t leave my parents’ house.” My voice is shaking, but Noah rubs my back, spurring me on. “With how anxious I was growing up, by the time I was an adult, I felt like anything I could do next could not only ruin my life again, but everyone else’s. Then PTSD would say, ‘Yeah, and here’s how the whole world could hurt you too.’ And even though I’ve worked so hard, it’s still something I’ll have to manage every day for the rest of my life. I was so afraid that’d be a deal breaker for someone.”

Noah nods more and more the more I talk. Could he really be understanding this?

He clears his throat. “Is it a dealbreaker for you?”

My heart flips; everything negative I just spouted could apply to him too. “N-no, I– I’d never think those things about anyone else, I–”

Noah kisses my cheek, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I know that’s not what you meant. I just want you to know you always have a choice.”

I gape at him. Noah believes we’re entwined by the Moon Goddess, Herself. What he just said sounds like he’s even willing to defy fate for me, even if that means breaking his heart.

Throwing myself into his chest, I can’t hold him tight enough. “I chose you, and I’d choose you again, over and over, exactly as you are.”

Noah’s heartbeat hammers against my ear as he curls over me - our bond ignites with a desperate need to be entangled. But when I hear soft, hitching sniffles, I’m afraid my heart will tear.

We spend over an hour recovering in the forest until we’re bleary with exhaustion, half asleep on the forest floor.

But when the fading sunset makes me shiver despite Noah’s ever-present body heat, he sits up, tracing my side until my heavy eyes open. “You feeling okay now?”

I break into a smile. “Good enough to fall asleep in the forest without being scared in the slightest, thanks to you.”

Noah ducks his head, hiding his flustered smile. As I sort out his hair, his low, rumbling voice sinks deep into my belly, warming me up from the inside. “Let’s go home and take a nice shower.”

The pain of missing each other all day dissolves beneath the hot water. Pressing our bodies together, we breathe in each other’s scents as we stroke each other’s backs. Noah smells like leafy, forest groundcover. And like stress.

Squirting body wash into my palm, I rub it between both hands before slathering his broad shoulders. Bubbles slip down his chest, escaping through the incave of his wide sternum. Noah’s breath heightens as my thumbs smooth over his nipples until they harden. As I move to his back, drawing a deep purr from him, Noah huddles into me until our wet bodies suction together.

My heart rate jumps at how hard I’ve suddenly made him. But Noah doesn’t act on it. His emotions are finally clear of stress in our bond, so I gladly continue onto his lower back. As I concentrate on a knotted muscle, dripping bubbles fizzle against my chest, Noah’s cuddle keeping me snug against him.

Soon, my soapy massage makes every single one of Noah’s wound muscles roll loosely beneath my hands. His purrs become consistent and soft, mimicking my circling, deep pressure on his back. He drapes himself over me in full relaxation, allowing me to hold some of his weight.

My stomach flutters at how much he trusts my touch.

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