Page 44 of Noah

Waking up to the scent of coffee and the gentle rustling of Noah moving about, sharing breakfast at the small table before the day pulled us into its demands.

The idea wrapped around my heart, squeezing gently, filling me with a longing I hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

What would it be like, to be a part of Noah’s life?

The prospect was both exhilarating and terrifying. Exhilarating because the idea of weaving my life with his felt right in a way that few things ever had.

Terrifying because I knew the weight that came with such a commitment. For now, I put those thoughts away from my mind.

I joined him, leaning against the counter as he prepared a quick breakfast. The smell of eggs and toast filled the air, mingling with the scent of coffee brewing.

He handed me a mug, our fingers brushing, sending a spark through me.

“Thanks,” I said, taking a sip, savoring the simple pleasure of being here with him.

We ate in companionable silence, the occasional brush of our hands or shared smile saying more than words ever could.

When the plates were cleared, Noah glanced at me, a question in his eyes.

“Want a ride back to the pack house?” he offered.

I nodded, appreciating the gesture. “Yeah, that’d be good.”

As we drove back, the weight of the morning’s tension began to lift.

Noah’s presence had a way of grounding me, reminding me of what truly mattered. When we pulled up to the pack house, I turned to him, my hand finding his.

“Thanks for everything,” I said, my voice sincere. “For breakfast, for…everything.”

Noah smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my lips. “Anytime, Jackson.”

As soon as I stepped inside the pack house, Beck nearly collided with me, his face pale and eyes wide with panic.

"Jackson, you need to come with me. Now," he said, his voice urgent.

Without waiting for a response, Beck grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the back of the house.

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded as we hurried down the hallway, my mind already racing to worst-case scenarios.

“It’s Hudson,” Beck said, his words clipped. “He’s picking a fight with Karl.”

I cursed under my breath, the memory of our last encounter with Karl flashing in my mind.

I’d asked Hudson where he had been when Karl taunted us in the cafeteria a few days ago.

It was a jab I shouldn’t have made, one that now seemed to have come back to bite us. But damn it, couldn’t Hudson have better sense or self-control?

Then again, this was Hudson we were talking about.

“Where’s Dad?” I asked, hoping our father could step in and defuse the situation before it spiraled out of control.

“He’s in a meeting with two other alphas in town,” Beck informed me, his steps quickening.

Perfect timing. We reached the back of the pack house just in time to see Hudson standing with two of our pack mates.

They were facing off against Karl and four of his Thornebane wolves.

The tension in the air was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap. It was clear they were seconds away from trading blows.

---