Page 51 of My Shy Alpha

He dips his head with a smile - back to his shy self - but he doesn’t seem to have anything to say.

Okay, I’m worried now.

I’m mesmerized by Noah’s scent the second we walk through the door, tension releasing from my body. But Noah solely focuses on me.

I pick at my thumbnail. “Are you oka–”

Noah drops my overnight bag, rushing to hug me to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?”

Noah doesn’t respond, but his heart drums against my ear. His stress pheromones put me on edge, crawling over my skin as they only magnify.

When I spot the source of his sadness in our bond, panic strikes - it’s not a little upset, something is seriously wrong. What do I do?

19

Guiding Noah to a frigid metal barstool at his kitchen island, I give his shoulders a grounding squeeze. “Relax here for a second for me. Where are your cups?”

I search for a glass to fill with water, opening every cabinet with no luck. But Noah ditches his barstool, reattaching to me with a hug from behind.

Okay, he’s seriously freaking out.

I try to nuzzle against his head on my shoulder, but his breath is still ragged. He might be too panicked to respond to my scent, but I’m not sure I’m even doing this scent thing right. I feel childish and inexperienced. But whatever Noah is experiencing needs immediate attention - whether it’s wolfy attention or simply the best I can manage.

Dragging Noah by the hand into his living room, I swerve to the worn leather couch the second I see it; the faded dye on the sectional’s long end tells me it’s Noah’s favorite spot. The cushions dip further beneath my weight than I expect, welcoming my body with a soft hug like it was broken in just for me.

But Noah doesn’t sit with me, breaking away to pace across the living room rug. His breathing is rapid, and my heart pounds with each flex of his lungs.

I grip the couch cushions beneath my thighs, straining to keep myself calm for him. “Noah, talk to me. Don’t hold it in.”

“I’m just s-sorry,” he gasps.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, I’m fucking everything up. I could’ve gotten you pregnant, I’m forcing you to meet all these cruel Elders who scared you on purpose, you’re still new to this, and I’m–” Noah drops off, facing the wall so that his back is to me.

“You’re what?”

“I’m not sure I can protect you from everything. What if I can’t?”

My shoulders loosen. Now this is a fear I know how to handle. Uncertainty really does kill.

But if I reassure him now - with an “of course you will” or “it’ll all be fine” - it’ll be a lie. We can’t know what will happen in the future. I don’t know if it’ll be fine, or if he’ll be able to protect me. If I’ll be able to protect myself.

It’s terrifying to do, but giving up control over the unknown actually gave me my life back.

Instead of reassuring Noah, I state the truth. “Maybe you can protect me, or maybe you can’t. That doesn’t mean we can’t get through it - figure it all out once we get there. And either way, it’s my job to protect myself. I’ve made it this far on my own, and it’s my responsibility at the end of the day to do what’s best for me.”

Noah’s voice shakes as he finally meets my eyes. “But you haven’t been okay in the past. You’ve been hurt a lot. I can feel it.” He works his lip between his teeth, struggling to say his next words. “W-what if I accidentally hurt you someday?”

Pain spikes my core at the ache in his voice. This is it. What he’s actually afraid of. And I can completely relate.

“You know, I’ve felt that fear around people I care about too. But like you said earlier, being with you is a risk I’m willing to take.”

He bites his lips, sad eyes searching my face for answers.

So I continue. “I also know people get hurt in all relationships. It just happens. It’s something I have to go to therapy to accept too. And I’m sure you know that already, having to lead all these wolves. No one will ever be 100% happy, no matter what you do.”

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