Page 12 of Freeing My Alpha

I was wrong: Noah was slouching. He’s at least three inches taller than the bearded Alpha, and with his muscles tensed, he’s twice as wide. My mate backs multiple large men into the thickets with just two steps.

The auburn-haired Alpha swallows hard. “No. We’ll never tolerate being dominated by one. That’s an insult to our genetics and intellige—”

“Enough,” Noah growls.

We all hold our breaths, blinking rapidly as Noah’s Alpha musk burns our eyes.

“You’ve wasted my morning spouting sexist shit. Get the fuck out of my sight.”

The Alphas don’t take another breath before turning their backs to Noah, shuffling through the leaves in retreat. But they don’t leave without a few mutterings.

“Sexist, what the fuck?”

“Dude, maybe he really isn’t an Alpha.”

Noah laughs, but his unenthused tone is chilling. “Uh-huh, whatever. Challenge me face-to-face if you really want to prove those superior genetics.”

A few of the Alphas look back. But with one glance at Noah’s fanged grin, they shut up and scurry away.

I can’t be relieved. I grip Noah’s taut bicep, placing one hand over his heart. The poor organ races beneath my palm.

“God, what is their problem?” I breathe. “Are you okay?”

Noah sighs, closing his eyes. He takes a deep breath. And another. When he speaks, he shakes his head. “More or less.”

With a hand on my back, Noah guides me back to Rainn, leaving the Alphas in the distance with large strides. I struggle to follow after him on my short legs, but Noah’s steps only stretch wider. His voice is even, but agitation charges through our bond.

“These Alpha-domination asshats show up every now and then, but I don’t want you to think this is widely accepted behavior in Greenfield. It’s just that there’s so many of us in our pack that some ignorant Lycans are bound to show up.”

“That makes sense,” I say.

Noah huffs. His words race faster with every sentence. “I wish it didn’t. Everyone’s entitled to opinions, sure, but I don’t tolerate when those opinions harm the lives of other pack members.”

My stomach rolls. “Are they mainly against Omegas? It sounded a lot like classic human misogyny, but I don’t really know if it’s right to compare Omegas to human women or not.”

Noah bites his lip, mulling over my words for longer than I expected him to; normally he answers my questions about Lycans in a heartbeat. But with another harsh huff, Noah’s anxiety spikes in our bond. “Remember how I told you that I believe pheromones are more based around personality and emotions, and that other wolves don’t really agree with me?”

“Yes, back when we first met. I know it’s not the same thing as gender identity for humans, but it still made me relieved that I could introduce you to Kira without worrying about her safety as a trans woman.”

Noah blinks a few times before giving me a weak smile. “O-oh. That’s comforting to hear, actually.” He pulls me closer, his grip tight on my hand. “Traditionally, we were taught our wolf sexes are hard-wired as an Alpha, Beta, or Omega based on our dominant pheromones. It’s implied that most cis men are born Alphas, most cis women are born Omegas, and most intersex people are born Betas, and each one has certain expectations on how they’re traditionally supposed to behave. But I really don’t agree with that; everyone’s just so different. Pheromones go up and down constantly depending on how we feel, and since the traditional belief also relies on Alpha strength being a genetic superiority thing, it rubs me the wrong way.”

My heart drops. I almost don’t know what to say, especially as the pieces fall into place: Noah is far more trapped into his pack leadership role than I realized. I knew he was watching his back for dominance challenge attacks at any moment, but he’s also having to monitor his every miniscule behavior that might appear socially as weakness—as in, a sign he has Omega in him. Would he express more of his sensitive traits out in the open if he wasn’t in this top Alpha role?

No wonder those Alphas were giving him a hard time about not asserting dominance; they can’t understand why any Alpha would deny what they see as an inborn superiority.

The further my emotions dip into fear, the tighter Noah’s shoulders tense. “Anyway, these guys take those traditional beliefs to another extreme, saying shit like they said today about their ‘Goddess-given right to dominate.’ As someone who has lived with Omegas my whole life, that’s just fucking gross.”

“That really is.” My voice is soft despite my chaotic thought overload. It doesn’t feel like the right time to tell Noah that the more he describes this Alpha domination thing, the more familiar it sounds—like Steven’s thoughts on his God-given right as a man to reign over me as a woman.

But Noah is far too worked up to notice my hesitation. “Between us, I have these guys classified as a cult in my personal database. They’re small, not much more than 10 or 15 extremist Alphas, but I have my eye on them. I really didn’t want you to have to hear that shit. Fuck—”

“Noah.” The sharpness of my voice stops Noah in his tracks. He faces me, wide-eyed and breathless. I comb his choppy hair back into order, running my shaky fingers through it. “Are you really okay?”

He shrugs, his forehead creasing. “I-I don’t know. I’m really worried that could’ve made you feel less safe here. I find that— U-upsetting.”

I can’t help myself, breaking into a sad smile. “I still feel safe.”

“You do?”

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