Page 40 of Freeing My Alpha

Her track record doesn’t really make me believe that.

But one thing is true: I really miss coming to my mom for support with these things. Mom is missing everything. When Noah and I do decide it’s time to have a baby, she’ll miss me giving birth, let alone our baby’s first laugh or smile. My lip wobbles, aching for her more than ever.

“You can hide things from me. But don’t hide the truth from Noah,” Lilian mutters.

My chest tightens. “I’m not! There’s no rush to bring a living, breathing baby into the world. We want to take it slow. Noah suggested it, even.”

Lilian puts her hand on her hip, stirring the stew with her back to me.

I grip the countertop behind me, stifling my rapid breath.

Lilian chuckles. “That’s what he told you? So you want the baby now, and he says what, exactly?”

My breath quivers as I weigh my response, but Lilian doesn’t rush me. She’s leaving a surprising amount of room for me to speak, her soothing scent softening my shoulders.

“That’s between Noah and me,” I say.

“Alright, alright.”

“We only met four months ago, and I never grew up expecting to be having a baby with someone right away. Noah wants to respect my cultural background.”

She drops the lid onto the fifth pot, turning around to face me. Her stare is surprisingly soft.

“You’re welcome to believe what you want. But Noah is like his father. He’d rather let something eat him alive inside than let the people around him get hurt.”

I chew on my lip. Noah said the exact same to me—well, in less brutal terms.

“Alphas can’t keep track of every birth, death, and major life change in the pack, but they definitely hear about the bad ones, whether they want to or not. With the way he looks at you, he’s never going to force you to carry that risk inside of you. Quite literally.”

My heart pounds as I muster up the courage to squeak out a question I’m dying to ask. “Are you saying Alpha Ritchie did something similar? Not wanting to hurt you by having pups?”

She sighs, picking at her nails to hide her reddening cheeks. “I had to drive him wild to get him to crack. He needed me to.”

I can’t believe she’s telling me this. “And it took you a while?”

She smiles at her shoes, more reminiscent of Noah than ever. “No. I let him mate me in front of everyone the day he welcomed me into the pack.”

My gut burns with jealousy, revealing the truth no matter how much it shocks me. I guess I really did want to participate in the mating ceremony after my welcome. I just wasn’t ready. Noah hasn’t realized I’ve changed my mind since the first ceremony, but how can he? I haven’t told him.

Lilian peeks up at me, and I don’t bother hiding my regret.

“Between us, she was my doing—Noah’s older sister we lost.” Lilian’s voice comes out as a whisper, tempting me to lean in closer.

But I'm frozen, awestruck by how much she’s opening up.

“Noah was my doing too. I almost didn’t survive his older sister’s loss—physically, I mean. Although, emotionally, it was difficult to survive as well. Very similar to losing a mate, since I developed a soul bond with her immediately.” Lilian’s voice remains even, but her words gut me. “On top of being afraid for my health, Ritchie didn’t want me to have to suffer through another loss. But I had to tell it to him straight. That was the only way he’d feel safe enough to tell me what he wanted—” She bites her lip, staving off tears. “Even if what he wanted could scar me for life.”

If Noah is like his parents, and I’m like my parents, they taught me I needed to stifle my wolf. Hide my truths. Even though it was to protect me, I bet they would regret that too, if they saw me now.

Rules can change.

I imagine it: telling Noah what I want, and when I want it, straight to his face. Watching him open up. Wanting a baby, right now, as badly as me.

Lilian’s expression shifts into concern when my lip quivers over huffing, desperate breaths. She waves me over, quickly wetting a washcloth.

“Come here. Lean over the sink.”

I do as I'm told, letting tears slip as a blazing fire pushes its way to my skin’s surface. She drapes the cloth over the back of my neck, cool water dripping into the sink below me, but it doesn’t quell the burn.

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