Page 128 of Freeing My Alpha

I’ve eaten more meat in the past three days than I have in two months. Natalia was right: I stopped feeling nauseated with a hefty, iron-rich meat intake, eating small portions every two hours. Even though it has helped, the sight of fibrous, tender meat still makes me a little queasy. As Noah drops another plate of steak in front of me in his cozy office, I sigh.

He breaks into a smile. “Sniff it before you judge it, at least.”

I frown, leaning in to sniff the meat sitting on Noah’s rich-brown wooden desk. As soon as I catch a whiff of the sharp, iron-filled beef, my mouth gushes with drool. I swallow hard, desperately grabbing my fork and knife. As I shovel three bites into my mouth, I turn to find Noah pressing his fist hard into his lips, doing nothing to hide his shaking shoulders as he silently laughs.

I cover my stuffed mouth so that I can safely laugh without flashing my half-chewed meat. “Don’t make fun of me!”

“I’m not, I’m not!” Noah raises his open palms, rotating away from me in his black, cushy rolling chair. He whips open his laptop, clearing his throat. When he speaks, it’s barely above a whisper. “You’re just so pregnant, that’s all.”

Shaking my head, I pretend like Noah hasn’t spiked my heart into my throat for the millionth time this week at the thought of carrying his baby. I’m leaning towards agreeing with Noah, but with our rising stress from the potential risks involved, it hasn’t been the celebratory time period I’ve imagined. My heart shreds at the thought of it being a chemical pregnancy and losing Noah’s daily smile over my symptoms.

But as Noah fetches a link for our vital video call, he grows silent. It’s been three days since Noah was injured on patrol and we met with Natalia at the Pack Doctor’s Office. Since then, Noah has had worse and worse disagreements with the Alpha-domination cultists. I haven’t had a single second to mention my theory on our fathers’ murders, especially when Noah comes home to me dog-tired every night.

Thankfully, Noah’s closest global allies agreed to meet online to discuss the rising issue. Even though Noah vowed to include me in his important meetings from now on, I’ve been both surprised and nervous to join him for this one—with the world’s top Alpha of top Alphas, the King Alpha, in attendance. I don’t know what to expect. Is it even normal for Lunas to be in attendance?

I only have two minutes until I’ll find out; it’s 11:58 PM here, 8:58 PM the next day in New Zealand, and 8:58 AM in Sweden, the only time we could find where we’d all be ready and awake.

I shovel the rest of my midnight “snack” into my mouth, chewing ferociously. Hot, salty liquid floods my tongue, curling my toes in bliss. With my delighted hum, Noah loses some of the tension in his shoulders, breaking into breathy giggles. The steak reinvigorates me, sending bright, fluffy gratification throughout my core for my mate’s warm meals. I huddle into Noah’s side, and he wraps one big hand around my thigh, pulling me closer in my rolling chair.

With my cheek squished against Noah’s bicep, I beam at him. “Thank you. That really did hit the spot.”

Noah breaks into the sweetest smile. “Yeah? Good. I know it’s hard to force yourself to eat while you feel sick, but you’re doing such a good job taking care of yourself. I’m so damn proud of you.”

Kissing my forehead, Noah leaves me a flustered mess. His devilish grin inspires fresh laughter from me, even as we pull up the video call.

But as Noah gives me another kiss, he sucks in a sharp breath, jutting back. “Fuck, I’ve been so busy, I forgot to explain the Alpha Summit!”

I glance at the clock. “Well, you have one minute left.”

Noah laughs through an anxious groan. But as he drops his stare, my heart springs into action. What is this Alpha Summit, really? If ever-stoic Alpha Noah looks this worried, that’s a bad sign. A terrible one, in fact.

I lose control of my thoughts before I can manage them. Is Noah going to be safe? Will I be safe? What if I really am pregnant, and the three of us die together at the event?

Noah’s eyes return to mine, sensing my rising anxiety.

I swallow hard. “Give me something, at least—before we talk to the people we’ll meet there. I think I have the wrong idea that it’s just a conference for top Alphas.”

“Fuck, I— Well—” Noah huffs, scratching the back of his head. “It’s not a conference. It’s an annual event where Top Alphas across the world meet once a year, but the main event is that we compete in friendly... ish ways.”

I blink a few times, struggling to find what I’m still missing here. “Um... That sounds... nice?”

Noah bites his bottom lip, struggling not to look at me. No matter how worried I am, I melt at the sight of my shy, goofy Alpha.

I let out a loving sigh. “Noah Greenfield...”

He bites back a smile, peeking at me with his best puppy-dog stare. “Y-yeah?”

I laugh, drawing in closer. “You’re a terrible liar.” Noah sputters into giggles with me, flipping my heart. “What type of competitions are these, exactly? ‘Friendly-ish’ doesn’t sound the most friendly, to be honest.”

Noah chuckles, rubbing his forehead. “Uh, yeah, well... We kind of... Go at it fighting in our wolf forms until someone comes out on top. For sport.”

I close my eyes. “Okay, let me get this straight.” When I open my eyes, Noah is wide-eyed and horribly guilty. “We’re going to be hosting a modern-day gladiator contest?”

Noah bursts out laughing, his cheeks burning red. “Listen, I-I’m— I’m sorry. But yes. That's exactly what it is.”

“Oh, my love.” I shake my head with a groan, tempted to laugh no matter how irritated I am. “I need you to be safe, Noah. Especially now.”

He softens, rubbing my knuckles with a quick glance to my belly. It sends my stomach into fizzy knots.

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