Page 90 of Freeing My Alpha

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We’re still holding hands as we face each other on Noah’s kitchen barstools. Two mugs steam on the counter, piping out a delicate blend of freshly ground herbs from Greenfield Forest. Otherwise, the kitchen island is now free of Noah’s thoughtful breakfast plates, wiped perfectly clean.

But my mind doesn’t feel clean at all, scattered with too many thoughts to hold on my own. I release my tense grip on Noah's hand to wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. All I can think about is how my dad’s body must’ve looked, bleeding out on the forest floor. I don’t know if I can stomach talking about every gritty detail of his death with poor Noah. How much of his father’s gruesome death replays in his head too?

Noah rubs my arm, leaning in. “What’s on your mind?”

God, this is a painful question to ask Noah. I don’t know if it’s okay. If it’s too insensitive, or if it’ll bring back too much trauma for him. But this question is killing me, eroding at my insides like leaking battery acid.

“Aliya, what is it? You seem really serious.”

“Sorry. I’ve been thinking a lot about the way our dads died.”

Noah’s worry shifts into pain, and I wince. Fuck, I don’t want him to think I blame him at all.

My breath picks up. “I’ve been wondering— If their deaths were planned. Like—” I hesitate, unsure if a particular word is okay to say.

This word burrows into my chest, almost too heavy to speak.

But the harder I hold it in, the sicker I feel. Its weight crushes down on my heart like a hydraulic press, threatening to end me. I squeeze my eyes shut, wincing. When Noah’s heart aches with me, I know I can’t do this to him any longer.

I open my eyes to find his anxious stare. The word spills out of me, exposing one of my deepest secrets. “A homicide,” I breathe. “It’s not the first time I’ve wondered, either. Every time I shove the thought down, it comes back twice as hard.”

Noah sits rigid, but he hasn’t stopped staring. I have no idea what he’s thinking.

So I just talk. “I-I mean, I used to wonder why that day? Especially since he’d normally go out to eat with me at that time. But then I thought murder was silly of me to even consider. Hunting accidents happen all the time. But that sounds like a really easy cover-up for a murder. Especially here, where no one does much about these people.”

Noah’s eyebrows flinch. “W-what do you mean? No one does much about who?”

“Like... No one does anything about dangerous men. Like with Steven, what I told you about not being able to file a restraining order, even though he left... evidence—” I shake my head, my throat catching with nausea. “That’s another conversation I can’t stomach right now. My point is, I don’t think they’d be caught if it was on purpose, either. Especially if the hunters claimed they thought they shot two wolves.” I glance at my mate, unable to read his flickering emotions. My teeth chatter with nerves. “I mean, what do you think really happened that day?”

Noah blinks hard, like he forgot to this whole time. His stare roams around the kitchen. “W-well, they were shot by hunters, and—”

“No, I mean, not the story we’ve been told. How do you think it actually played out?”

Noah clears his throat, dropping my stare. The tense silence gives me goosebumps, crawling up my skin and begging me to act.

I can’t back down now, no matter how horrible this is to talk about. I need someone to hear my thoughts. To understand.

“I know this is awful to say, but are you sure it was really an accident?” My voice comes out small. It makes me feel pathetic. Like an insensitive, whiny—

To my surprise, Noah’s furrowed brows soften.

This minuscule shift cuts off every thought I have. Our bond shifts in preparation for something. Something big.

“Between us—”

Noah clears his throat. His voice is so soft that I feel like I have to lean in, but I wouldn’t dare move. The intensity of our rumbling emotions pins me in place, daring me to not even breathe.

When Noah speaks, his usually smooth, deep voice comes out strained. “I’ve always wondered the same thing.”

My heart leaps, forcing me to swallow it back down.

But Noah’s breath heightens. “N-no, that's not right—it was more than ‘wondering.’ I tried to prove it.” He grips his hair. “Until everyone started asking if they should dethrone me for erratic behavior.”

“Oh, Noah... I can’t imagine being thrown into a leadership position like that, right after losing so much.” I grip his hand. Noah squeezes tight, nodding despite his bowed head. “Everyone thought I was irrational too. They said I asked questions that didn’t need to be asked.”

Noah’s exhale comes out hot. “Oh, they need to be fucking asked. Something in my heart knows it.”

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