Page 52 of Freeing My Alpha

“I’m here,” Noah says. “We're going far away from here, okay?”

Noah carries my body through the woods, his emotions dipping and aching with mine.

I feel so shattered inside that I can’t speak. I've fallen numb.

I close my eyes, listening to Noah’s strained breath. Feeling his hot chest against my cheek. It steels me in reality, allowing me to take one breath after another. Surviving minute to minute.

Until the adrenaline wears off in the thick of the woods, and I feel horrendously sick.

Noah rushes to hold my hair back as I jump out of his arms, seconds before I empty my stomach into the leaves. I cling to Noah’s quiet reassurances with every heave of my stomach, hating how weak I feel. But Noah's emotions aren’t disgusted, angry, and hot like mine are; he's mourning for me.

When I’m done, I can’t even cry. I reach for Noah, and he gingerly lifts me back into his arms.

By the time we reach his den, I’m half asleep and hollow.

Noah sets me down just long enough to shift into his wolf form, his wet nose nudging me into his side. It’s easy to curl up into our usual spot together, hiding in his black fur.

The next morning, my heart breaks when I see the wound I gave Noah's arm. He jolts awake as I frantically lick the hot red gash, desperate to heal him and undo what I’ve done.

But Noah doesn’t say a word, stroking my hair. When I realize he’s not wincing at all, instead gazing down with worry, I pause to stare back through rush after rush of guilt.

“Sweet Omega, I need to tell you something, okay?” Noah swallows hard.

I grip his hand, giving his arm another soft lick. Okay.

“My mom’s facial scar wasn’t from another wolf. It was from me,” Noah says.

My heart skips, tightening my throat. “What do you mean?”

“I didn’t realize she was coming to rescue me from the past. And last night, you didn't realize I was coming to rescue you either. It's okay. Really, it is.”

It seems like a challenge for Noah to hold eye contact with me, but I’m having the exact opposite reaction.

With how closed off Steven made me, I’m shocked to feel more open than ever after reliving his damage. Gazing deep into Noah's vulnerable stare, my mate makes me feel raw, gaping, and exposed.

But not afraid.

I stroke Noah’s cheek. When he kisses my palm, fluttering my heart, I can't resist climbing into his lap.

“When I'm with you, I feel understood,” I whisper.

Noah burrows his nose into my neck, his emotions spiking with elation in our bond. As we hold each other, our bond welds tighter than ever.

After the summer sun has risen high enough to heat our den, Noah takes me back to my parents’ cabin.

But he stops me on the front porch. “Don’t force yourself to come in. I only brought you home to grab your clothes so you can stay with me for a while. And, if you want—” He takes a deep breath. “I can get rid of your mattress.”

My heart flips.

He’s taking what happened to me so seriously. I never even told him how much that mattress bothered me. He really does understand.

I lace my fingers into his, stroking his big hand with my thumb. “I’d like that, but mattresses are so expensive. That’s the other reason why I never changed it.”

Noah glances at my cabin, his emotions dampening.

I step closer. “What are you thinking? Tell me honestly.”

“I—” He winces, struggling to meet my eyes. “I don’t think it’s healthy for you to live here. Mattress or no mattress.”

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