Page 60 of Primal

Because I don’t think I can handle hearing the hopeless and devastating screams only a mother is capable of so soon after Carly’s mom filled the forest with her symphony of sorrow.

I can’t handle letting down another person I was meant to protect.

With a sigh that sounds painfully exhausted even to my own ears, I remind myself that with Canaan and Rhosyn back, we can develop a real plan—a plan that doesn’t rely on McNamara and his damn ultimatums. And if the remaining thread in my chest, the one that seems to shine brighter with every mile I close between us, truly means what I hope it does…then maybe there’s still a chance. A way to fix what I broke. A way to find my way back to Noa.

This line of thinking might teeter dangerously close to delusion, but it’s all I’ve got. The only thing keeping me upright, keeping me fighting. Because without her—without Noa as part of me—none of this means a damn thing. There’s no point to any of it. A truth I learned excruciatingly too late.

Taking the winding, one-lane dirt road that leads to the overlook, I guide my black GMC Sierra over the familiar bumps and sharp turns, muscle memory doing most of the work. The spot Canaan picked for this meeting wasn’t random. It’s a place I’ve returned to again and again over the years, especially when I needed a moment alone, a moment where I could justbeand no one was watching my every move as the “Alpha heir”. It also became my haven when I’d come home from college for breaks, and being back with my pack didn’t feel like it once did. It felt off and I could never figure out why. The overlook is close enough to our territory that I could drive back quickly if I were summoned by Dad unexpectedly but more often than not, I ran here in my wolf form. It’s rare we shift and roam in our other forms outside of the boundary of our territory, but this was an exception for me. I ran here many mornings when it was still dark out and I would get here just in time to watch the sun rise.

I pull into the small gravel parking area beside the overlook and turn off the car. The growl of the engine fades, but the dreadin my chest doesn’t. I’m parked a few feet from one of the most stunning views in the Selkirk Mountains. Pine trees decorate the slopes and snow-covered granite peaks stretch majestically into the distance, but I don’t see any of it.

It's not the view I’m here for, it’s not what has captivated my attention.

The two figures are huddled together atop a battered old picnic table.

Twenty feet away, and I already know everything has changed.

Siggy’s smaller than I remember. Not physically, though I have no doubt she’s lost weight, but it’s as if something in her spirit has shriveled. She doesn’t look anything like the sharp-tongued, blue-fire-eyed omega I remember trailing after Yrsa around the pack house. The young woman that thrived when bathed in attention. Any kind. She wasn’t particular. Now, she shifts, folding into herself beside Noa like she’s trying to take up as little space as possible. Physically, she doesn’t seem to bear any wounds, but that means jack shit when her emotional wounds are letting themselves be known with the haunted look across her too thin face. I have to remind myself to be thankful that she’s breathing, and that’s all Yrsa is going to care about when she gets her daughter back in her arms.

And if that doesn’t gut me, it’s the woman sitting beside her that nearly takes me to my knees.

Noa.

It’s been five days. Just five. That’s how long it’s been since I last laid my eyes on her, but she looks as if she’s lived through a lifetime of hell in that short amount of time. She’s got her knees drawn in, arms wrapped tight around herself, her espresso hair hanging around her face like a curtain. Or maybe it’s armor. She doesn’t lift her head. Doesn’t shrink. Doesn’t acknowledge me.But I know she hears me. My truck’s engine would have given away my arrival minutes ago.

She’s shivering, even under that thick gray hoodie. The parts of her hands visible from the bottom of her long sleeves tremble from something more than just the chill in the wind. And still, her entire focus is on Siggy, like she’s holding her together with sheer will alone.

Siggy equally deserves my attention, and she’ll get it fully, but for a minute, I just allow the cascading and suffocating remorse to wash over me as I catalog every detail I can make out.

My wolf, who’s spent the last few days keeping his distance, guarding the fragile thread, finally shifts. I feel him rise inside me, a low, desperate sound curling in his chest like a growl coexisting with grief. For the first time in days, he doesn’t curl tighter around the bond. Instead, he nudges me toward her. Urges me forward.

Go to her. Fix this.

My steps are stiff, slow. Every movement deliberate. I don’t want to spook her—either one of them. The tension in her shoulders increases with every crunch of dirt and rocks below my boots, but still, she won’t look at me. Her eyes stay locked on Siggy, scanning her like she’s memorizing every twitch, every shift. Like she’s bracing for the girl to fall apart again and wants to be ready when she does.

Her scent is carried to me by the wind. The brown sugar and spiced fig scent, unmistakably her, is tainted, twisted with something metallic. Noa is trying so fucking hard to conceal it, going as far as to not grant me access to her eyes, but her scent gives her away. Fear. My mate is afraid. Of me. The guilt claws up my throat like bile because it’s not as if I haven’t earned this reaction from her. Every inch of caution now ingrained into her bones, I put it there.

But it’s the subtle thread beneath the fear, the note nearly lost under the acrid bite of panic, that has my wolf going still then rising. Alert.Omega.

Noa smells like an omega.

My omega.

When did that happen?

Ten feet away, a wall rises in front of me. Canaan, posture tight, broad frame blocking the path like a gate that won’t open unless you’re deemed worthy. His mate flanks him and together they form a shield.

Canaan’s voice is calm, but there’s a weight behind it. “Nick.”

His eyes meet mine, and I read the question in them instantly.Are you a threat?

I want to be furious. I want to bristle at the implication. But what have I done lately to prove I’m not? So instead of giving in to the emotion that’s nothing more than a reflex, I just shake my head once.

“I’m going to fix it.” My voice scrapes as it leaves me, hoarse with too many days of silence and too little sleep. I mean every word, though. I let it show. Whatever they see in my face must be enough, because after a shared glance, they step aside.

I walk past.

Siggy looks up when I approach, and the combination of relief and distrust warring in her big blue eyes is heartbreaking. She wants to trust me like she once did, but she can’t. Not yet. That’s okay, though. I will find a way to earn it again. Starting with finding a way to ensure that she’s safe in her own fucking home. It’s such a basic necessity that as an Alpha I’m meant to provide her, but a thing I’ve already failed her on. At a cataclysmal level.

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