Freeing My Alpha: Book 2 of My Shy Alpha

Chapter 35

Content Warning: discussions of past abuse

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After an intimate night wrapped in Noah's arms, I wake up energized and content. The sound of Noah's sleepy feet sliding across the kitchen floor charms a giggle out of me. I better get up so I can love on him and still get to school on time.

When I slip into the bathroom to clean the bloody mess I've made of my legs, I stop outside the shower, turning to the side to glance at my period-bloated abdomen.

The sight of my fingers caressing my swollen, empty uterus no longer breaks my heart. This time, I can imagine Noah's arms around me, holding our growing baby with me from behind. I can imagine him nurturing me through labor, all the way up until we hold our newborn together.

Glancing at my red eyes in the mirror, I burst out laughing at my gushing tears.

I want to have a baby with him, worse than ever. But like he said, I know we'll have our chance to be parents. I just don't know when.

And that's okay.

The clanking of plates outside the bathroom door brings me back to Earth. Noah is probably starting breakfast. I should get dressed so I can hurry and help him.

It's only as I grab my clothes that I realize this school day is unlike any other I've experienced so far. My movements slow as my heart deflates; I almost forgot I got laid off. Instead of counting down the days until the end of the school year, I'm counting down until I'm no longer a preschool teacher. The thought burns my stomach. I guess I'll just have to focus on making it a good day for the kids.

As I dress, I mentally review today's agenda, including hearing about Noah's plans for Mason after I come home from work.

I just don't get why it's normalized to have top Alphas under constant attack. Was it like this for Alpha Ritchie too?

Then a thought hits me in the gut. One I've staved off since I met Noah.

What if I was right, and our dads were actually murdered?

Not just by a hunter's accidental shot, like the cops told Mom and I originally, but an intentional, premeditated shooting. What if I wasn't paranoid for thinking that in the first place, and they were killed - on purpose?

I swallow hard, swiping my tears as they come. No, I can't think like this again. That got me nowhere in the past except ostracized.

I try to regain the smile Noah left me with this morning, but my heart aches as I enter the living room. There's a sharp metal ping of Noah setting down a fork or spoon, followed by the wooden floor's creaking as his feet rapidly approach.

When I see him, he's wearing a pressed black button-up beneath a casual black blazer, dressed extra nicely for the meeting today. The sight of him all put together strains my heart even worse.

It's not just the thought of our dads' potential murders that hurts. It's the thought that my sweet, gorgeous mate could be killed just the same.

I whimper, choking through the start of fresh tears. "H-hi, handsome–"

Noah's eyebrows contort with mine. He rushes for me, pulling me into his arms. "Oh, my love. What's wrong?"

I bite my lips, shaking my head to will away my tears. He holds my cheek to his chest, and I take a deep breath of him. Vanilla scent wafts from his clothes. I can't tell if it's his nurturing scent or what he's cooking.

I laugh off my upset. "Thank you. I'm sorry for getting all emotional this early."

"What are you thinking about?"