Page 113 of My Shy Alpha

“My observant Alpha. You’ve been worried this whole time that you scared me?”

Noah nods, and I bite my lip to contain my affection. I sort out his shift-flustered hair. My gentle, sweeping touch loosens his tense torso.

“To be honest, I’ve seen you looking over your shoulders too. Or losing focus on conversations when you hear a sound - someone accidentally dropping something and startling your wolf into threat mode. And I think–” I hesitate, softening my voice. “I think we’re coming from the same place.”

Noah tucks my hair behind my ear, uncovering my face. The ache my words created in our bond amplifies as we meet eyes, but it also prompts us to smile.

“Paranoia’s a dick.”

I laugh. “Tell me about it.”

“But it’s trying to protect us,” Noah mutters.

I glance back up at him. He’s analyzing his thumbnail, softly scratching at the edges. When he feels me staring, he peeks over - rapid eyes flicking over my features.

He must know I can feel him thinking hard, assumedly about the source of my PTSD. But he doesn’t have anything else to say.

He is listening, however.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m being watched,” I say. Noah stiffens, alarm creasing his forehead. “But I think it’s just PTSD talking.”

Noah relaxes back onto his elbow, but his eyebrows remain knitted. His whirring emotions consume my focus, too conflicting to pick apart.

“What else have you been thinking? I feel like there’s more,” I say.

Noah shakes his head. “It’s way too sensitive of a question. I know I’ll butcher what I actually want to ask.”

I shrug. “Maybe it will come out weird. Maybe it won’t.”

Noah gives me a sad smile, and I drop onto my side to face him eye-to-eye. He kisses my forehead before leaning his head against mine. “Then, I guess I want to say something before I ask.” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t need to know any details. Take care of yourself first, okay?”

I nod, but my heart is racing. I want to be able to tell Noah everything, but the second he said that, dread hit my core. Maybe I’m not ready.

“I-I just–” Noah scratches at his thumbnail again. “I feel like I need to know: where is he? Do you feel like– You don’t think there’s a chance he’ll come back?”

My heart drops. Somehow, Noah sniffed out my deepest fear, setting my nerves ablaze. I burrow into his chest on instinct, struggling to retain my composure.

Noah’s distinct Alpha musk floods the cave, forcing me to blink through its stinging intensity. He growls. “Okay, I definitely need to know. You don’t have to tell me anything but his name.”

I pop upright. “You’re not going to kill him, are you?”

Noah frowns. “Unfortunately, no.”

I erupt into a startled laugh. “Noah!”

He gives me a half smile, hanging his head. “I just want you to feel safe, and that involves making sure he’s not in the pack. Do you know if he’s a Lycan or not?”

I feel like I can’t breathe. “I– I hadn’t even thought of that.”

Noah gathers me into his arms, settling us on our sides. I relish his grounding squeeze, huddling into his protective scent until I droop into his chest.

“There you go,” Noah whispers. “I’m sorry, I should’ve–”

“Steven,” I say. Noah tenses beneath me, not daring to take a breath. “Steven Barrett.”

42

I’m met with silence, which I’m relieved about – our emotions speak for themselves, burning my chest as Noah’s anger dances with mine. I take a steadying breath, and Noah rubs my back.