Page 36 of Noah

My mind raced, filled with images of claws and teeth, of the possibility of him getting hurt.

The idea of Noah standing toe-to-toe with wolves like Karl, who wouldn’t hesitate to draw blood, set every protective instinct I had on edge.

“Noah,” I said. “I don’t want you getting involved. It’s too dangerous.”

His gaze met mine. “I can handle myself, Jackson. I’ve been in fights before,” Noah pointed out.

“I know you can,” I admitted, my jaw tightening. “But this isn’t just any fight. Things could get ugly fast.”

“I’m not some fragile human, Jackson,” Noah retorted. I could hear the frustration in his voice. “I can hold my own. And I’m not about to sit here while you and Beck step into the middle of this alone.”

My wolf growled louder, urging me to pull him back, to keep him safe.

It wasn’t about doubting his abilities; it was about the fear clawing at my insides, the fear of seeing him hurt, of watching him bleed.

The very thought made my muscles tense, my breath coming a little quicker. Before I could argue further, the situation at the far end of the dining hall erupted.

Chairs scraped back harshly, and the low growl of wolves shifted into snarls as fists flew. The tension broke into violence, claws flashing as the fight devolved into a chaotic mess.

Beck shot me a glance, his expression urging action. “We need to move.”

I cursed under my breath, casting one last glance at Noah. His eyes were determined, his posture ready.

There was no time to argue, no time to convince him to stay back. My wolf growled in reluctant acceptance, knowing we couldn’t protect him from the sidelines.

“Fine,” I said, the word heavy with resignation. “But stay close.”

With that, the three of us—Beck, Noah, and I—pushed forward, wading into the fray. My focus sharpened, zeroing in on the immediate task: stopping this before it turned into a full-blown disaster.

The wolves from other packs watched from the corners, uninterested in involving themselves in the mess. They were here to observe, to see how we handled our own problems.

Karl’s smug face twisted into a sneer as we approached. “Oh, look who decided to step up, the pseudo alpha.”

The taunt was meant to provoke, to bait me into losing control. But I didn’t rise to it. I couldn’t afford to.

My focus was on ending this, on keeping my pack safe—and on keeping Noah from getting hurt.

Karl then shoved Reid, and it was all downhill from there. Claws extended, fists flew, and the dining hall erupted into chaos.

“Damn it,” I muttered, charging forward.

We waded into the fray, trying to separate the wolves before things got too bloody. Reid had Karl in a chokehold, while Mason and Eli wrestled with the other two wolves.

The sounds of growls and shouts echoed around the room, drawing the attention of other packs. Most stayed on the sidelines, content to watch the spectacle unfold.

“Enough!” I barked, grabbing Reid by the collar and yanking him back. “Stand down!”

Reid growled but obeyed, stepping back with a heaving chest. Karl wasn’t as quick to back off, swinging at me instead.

I ducked, my wolf surging forward as I caught his wrist and twisted it behind his back. “Back. Off.”

Karl sneered, but the hint of fear in his eyes was enough to make him hesitate. “You think you can keep your pack together, Jackson? Looks like you’re already falling apart.”

I shoved him away, my wolf snarling at the insult. Beck stepped between us. “Let it go, Jackson. We’re here to make peace, not start a war,” my brother said.

A sharp intake of breath drew my attention. Noah stood a few feet away, his hand pressed to a bleeding scratch on his arm.

My heart lurched. I was by his side in an instant, the fight forgotten as I inspected the wound.

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