Page 96 of Freeing My Alpha

Yasmine’s clicking, irritated tongue is the first to snap everyone out of our frozen state. “Well, we all know Mason’s asshole father, and even though we have to treat them as different people, Mason does sound like just as much of an Alpha-domination cultist.”

Elder Terrence sighs. “But Alpha Noah is right: we have a duty to be fair to every pack member, and Mason hasn't physically acted on his beliefs. Not enough to banish him, like Jack.”

“And I don't plan on letting it go that far,” Noah hisses.

The air thins with Noah’s rampaging pheromones, bringing on a heavy silence.

Eventually, Elder Aaron mutters out his thoughts. “I understand your bias against these Alpha men, but they're still your constituents—”

“I don't give a fuck,” Noah booms. “I don't want to hear a single other Omega was hurt by these domination fuckers in my own pack. I'm not waiting until something happens again to act!”

Noah's voice has an edge to it I’ve never heard before. The tension in the room rises, everyone avoiding Noah's eyes. I'm physically shaking, unsure how to process my mate’s behavior. But everything he’s saying sounds perfectly logical; we should be upset about wolves abusing other wolves.

So why is everyone acting so weird? What am I missing here?

It sounds like someone here didn’t act quickly enough on Jack. With the horrors I know Noah witnesses, often daily, what did he have to witness to make him react like this? I’m positive Jack abused Mason’s mom, but why wouldn’t Alpha Ritchie listen to her? Or was it that he did, and these wolves around me didn’t believe her, just like no authority believed me?

Acid crawls up my throat as my shoulders rise. My heart pounds so rapidly that I’m tempted to hide.

But the more I overthink, the more Noah’s anxiety skyrockets. I jump to my feet, afraid he’s about to have an anxiety attack.

Noah backs away from us quickly, holding out a halting palm. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Give me a second.”

Turning around, Noah takes a few deep breaths with rapid strokes of his hair. All I can see is immense stress threaded throughout his shoulders, winding them so tight that it looks like Noah has to fight to expand his taut ribcage.

He’s right; Mason is causing immense, unnecessary stress for all of us. With how volatile Mason has been, his actions could catch up with his words before we’re prepared to stop him. When he confronted us last, there were far more than the ten to fifteen Alpha-domination cultists Noah mentioned he had his eye on, a horde of wolves ready to back Mason up. And if Mason’s at the top of their miniature hierarchy, we need to figure out how to handle him as soon as possible.

My stomach rolls, millions of possibilities crossing my mind of what Mason could be hiding. But I can’t get something out of my head. That phrase Mason used as he walked away: maybe I do, maybe I don’t.

I’m almost certain he stalked me enough to find out I have OCD.

Oh, fuck. This might be our missing key.

But can I trust these wolves to share something so intimate about me, right after I learned they might not be as safe as they seem?

As I let out a shaky gasp for air, Noah rushes back to my side with a sorrowful ache in his eyes. He leans in to nuzzle my cheek, softening the harsh tone he left hanging in this eerily silent room. “It’s going to be okay. I have every intention to keep you safe.”

I swallow hard, softening to a whisper. “It’s not just that. I think I have some evidence.”

No matter how quiet my voice is compared to the room’s agitated hum, I hold more weight here than I ever have.

All eyes are on me, listening intently.

Damn wolf hearing. I should've mindlinked Noah instead. I don’t know if I want to tell the whole world I have OCD.

What if they no longer believe I’m able to be Luna? If they have deep-rooted biases, I won’t be able to defend myself; I’ve seen OCD wildly misunderstood and miscategorized too many times to believe they would understand me. They might even play it off as acting nice in the moment, but believe I’m “crazy” once I leave the room. Hell, they could even lock me up.

I swallow hard, struggling to parse my thoughts. I'm already triggered enough to have no idea what’s intrusive and what’s a valid concern.

Or maybe they’re valid concerns, regardless, and they don’t need to be parsed. Maybe the real problem is that I’m only looking at one half of my “what ifs” again.

What if this is a group who will finally listen to me? What if I’m making too many assumptions about what happened in the past, and these Lycans could be more understanding than most humans?

Now that I think through it slowly, they’re only asking Noah difficult questions to help him find a way to achieve what he wants: stopping Mason. They don’t want someone like Jack to succeed in their harm again, either.

Maybe they didn’t act quickly enough in the past, but maybe they’ve learned. They’re acting now.

It doesn’t excuse the past, but it does help me feel safer.

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