Page 49 of Freeing My Alpha

I gasp as the candle crashes to the ground, snapping clean in half.

It wasn’t anything special. But just like the rest of the decorations covering the entire cabin, it was Mom’s.

Aching sadness breaks me out of my panic. The room is eerily silent as I pant, filled with emotions I don’t know how to hold.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I need to calm down.

Noah’s concern ripples through our bond. Omega, I was on my way back, but now you seem—

No, please continue with your work. I’m actually glad you didn’t have to witness my ridiculous outburst. I’m going to force myself to lay down now.

By the time I reach my room, my heaviest emotion is embarrassment. I strip my clothes as quickly as I can, begging for this night to end.

Picking up Noah’s shirt from last night, I inhale his lusty scent from just before he had sex with me. My core pools with heat—a welcome shift in sensation as pleasurable memories fill my mind.

Slinking into his shirt, I grip the closet shelf like I did last night, reaching between my legs.

As I rub myself over the thin fabric of my panties, I imagine Noah’s hands all over me, unable to contain his moans as he slunk into my core from behind, bare.

“Ah...” My breath escapes me as a moan, a rising urge to feel something, anything except pain overtaking my mind.

I dig through my closet for a long-lost sex toy, desperate to cling to my desire while I still feel good.

When I see my dildo, I have to laugh. I used to think this was too huge for me, but that was before I had a Lycan mate to lick me silly.

As I close my eyes, sitting myself over it, I imagine it’s Noah.

But for some reason, it stings. That hasn’t happened for many months.

My heart spikes with fear, amplifying the pain. Yanking it out, I quickly soothe myself with gentle strokes, redirecting my focus to Noah.

My mate. If he were here, he’d start by rubbing me back and forth until I couldn’t stand it.

I rub my clit in small circles, pleasure returning to the surface. Inhaling Noah's shirt, I flush hot. Within a few minutes, I’m almost as wet as he makes me.

Oh, duh. I should’ve been using lube. Digging through my toy bin, I find the bottle with shaking hands. Breathe, Aliya.

I apply a generous amount to the toy before using the rest to thoroughly coat my labia, leaving me breathless. But when I press the toy’s tip into me, a sharp pain shoots up my spine just the same.

Panting, I pull it back with a wide, petrified stare. This is just a temporary trauma response, right? No, I don’t know that for sure. It might not be temporary at all.

I’m losing the good feelings by the second.

This time, I ditch the toy altogether, settling on using my own hands. These are my fingers, I remind myself. I'm safe, and in control of this moment.

As I slip one finger in, I pause, waiting to feel pain. When it only feels better, my cheeks flush as I remember Noah’s desperate breath in my ear last night. I imagine myself backing up over him, shoving him deeper.

“Ah, Noah...” My legs squirm, remembering how hard he came into me, filling me until I overflowed onto the carpet—and leaving us to giggle after as we wiped it up before bed.

Curling my fingers against my favorite spot, my hips arch for more as I replay the memory.

“Noah... Don’t stop—”

But the second I come, a heavy, sinking despair re-enters my soul. I deflate against the carpet, my heart still pounding as I stare at my failed attempts to feel better—just another mess to clean up before bed.

After cleaning the toy and myself, I climb into bed, pulling the covers over my head. The second I fall limp, a thought flashes through my mind.

Did you lock the door, though?

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