Page 64 of My Shy Alpha

That’s right, Lilian mentioned Noah shuts down around whatever this trauma is. He probably doesn’t mindlink either. But I’m sure he could still hear me, right?

Noah, I’d never dream of blaming you for this! I’m so, so sorry you had to hear those awful words.

A sudden tugging in my chest urges me to follow it.

Mate, he mindlinks. Except it’s more of a feeling than the word itself, a concept I’ve never had to notice within my own thoughts until they joined with someone else’s. Noah must be 100% wolf brain right now.

I chase the tugging sensation toward him, so focused on him that I don’t notice the roots beneath me until I smack straight into the dirt. The impact steals the air in my burning lungs, freezing my diaphragm in place. After a few grueling seconds, I can cough my lungs back into working.

God, I’m such a mess. Always tripping and falling, even at work - making a fool of myself in front of important people who already think I’m incompetent just because I’m an anxious, young woman. I stumble back to my feet with a wince. Noah’s mood only darkens, so I break into a sprint.

I know my opinion might not seem significant compared to your mom’s awful judgment. But I just met you, and you’re already so important to me. You’re–

I forget everything I’m trying to say when I spot a wolf in the distance.

Now that my wolf has surfaced more than ever, my internal alarm rings from the stranger wolf’s posture alone. The thready heartbeat pumping through my ears sinks into background noise as my senses hone in on the wolf.

After hunching into the bushes, my muscles freeze still.

Noah, there’s another wolf.

The tug I feel in our bond surges with Noah’s urgency, but I’m too afraid to move. Scents become so overpowering that I envision them as colors, whispering through the forest like smoke.

This wolf must think I’m an outsider, unmarked by Noah’s scent that would verify my place in the pack. Running isn’t an option; I know better than to do what I did last time and make this wolf chase me. But if Noah isn’t nearby, this wolf is close enough to attack, no matter how quickly Noah finds me.

Hunkering into myself to appear smaller, I back away as slowly as I can with my eyes locked on the wolf. With every step I retreat, the wolf takes one forward.

After three steps, they exit the shadows. I stiffen, absorbing every second of their brown fur shining red in the sunlight. It’s not the first time I’ve seen a wolf with a brown coat before, but I also don’t know how common they are among Lycans.

But a little voice in the back of my mind won’t leave me alone: is this the same wolf that attacked Noah the day we met? No, it can’t be, right?

My stomach sinks. Either way, they mirror my movements, recognizing me as a threat. The more I retreat, the more this wolf will want to corner me. Maybe I should act like I belong here. Claim my space.

I freeze in place, standing my ground. Remaining as still as possible, I soften my breath.

The quieter I stay, the more my senses heighten. Every brush of leaves sounds like skittering bugs across my skin, bristling the tiny hairs across my body. There are so many scents at once that my head throbs with each heartbeat until I’m nauseous. My wolf stirs more than I’ve ever felt her, my eyesight warping as she demands control.

Oh, God. I feel weird.

Noah, something is wrong with me.

My gut flip-flops with every pounding heartbeat as the feeling only gets worse.

The tingling starts in my fingers. I raise my hands and find my nails stretching and sharpening. I resist the urge to shriek, shaking out my fingers and shoving my wolf down, down, down.

Is this what shifting feels like? No, I don’t like this. I don’t feel like myself.

But then the wolf in the distance moves. Slow, creeping paws lift one by one, easing back into the forest ground cover without a single sound.

Until the wolf startles: something draws their attention deeper into the forest. Their eyes widen, locking onto whatever they find. When they sprint away for their life, I follow their gaze, my teeth chattering with fear.

A black wolf stalks through the forest. His entrance silences every bird, bug, and squirrel in the vicinity.

My heart drops when I see my mate. He carries his massive form more menacing than ever, hanging his head low with rolling shoulders. But I can feel him aching - his tense, frothing snarl is a fearful cover-up.

“Noah,” I whisper. His ears twitch, halting him in place.

I run to him, scrambling over tree roots as his ears slink back. As I throw my arms around his snout, he catches my full weight, closing his eyes to my touch.

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