Page 109 of King Luna

But the King Alpha smiles, his incisors on full display. “In that case, I hope you enjoy the pre-show tomorrow.”

I slip my arm back into Noah’s as Viktor turns, ready to storm off.

But when our focus shifts to the last semi-final battle standing, my stomach plummets to my feet; Reid doesn’t win against Matthew. Crumbling beneath the Florida Alpha, Reid yipes as Matthew slashes his chest—bringing Reid to a submissive position on his back as medics rush the field.

As Noah’s body tightens into rage beside me, my blood pressure drops, spinning my head. Viktor and Noah grasp me atthe same time, righting me on my feet as Tane and Waimarie rush over.

“What do we do?” Tane rasps, still out of breath from his fight.

Waimarie’s eyes bulge in fear beside him, a reflection of how I must look too; with the lineup our mates carefully crafted, we counted on Reid winning against Matthew, preventing any Alpha-domination leaders in the yellow zone from ranking in the top five. Not only did Matthew win, he bursts with agitation, eyeing us with Reid’s blood splattered across his cheeks.

“Fuck, never mind,” Viktor mutters. “You’re fucking up Matthew tomorrow for us, right, Greenfield?”

With a deep growl, Noah nods. “Hire a few more medics.”

I have a bad feeling about this.

Chapter 24

Noah won his fight against Tane today, but I wouldn’t know it by looking at him: deep scowl lines have embedded themselves into his cheeks as we walk the Kiruna Pack halls. This frown has remained plastered to him ever since he returned from Reid’s side in the medic hall.

I have the feeling he doesn’t want to talk about it.

While tonight’s win ended in celebration, I’m all too familiar with how any large emotion can register as distress to the mind, including happiness or relief—especially in minds like ours that have been physically altered by trauma.

But when Matthew gave us a taste of the violent reality we’re facing, and in such a sudden, shocking way, the rapid succession of events may have been a toxic cocktail for Noah’s PTSD. I have emotional whiplash too, my stomach sour and sloshy.

When we come to the end of the hall before our room, Noah stops, staring at the door.

His breath heightens. I brush his hand, and Noah flinches.

When we meet eyes, there’s a split second my mate is unrecognizable. Wild, alert eyes stare back, roaming across my face like it’s the first time he’s seen me all day.

Then Noah snaps out of it, jerking his focus from me to hurriedly unlock the door. “S-sorry...”

I sweep my fingernails across his back. “Are you thinking too hard, gorgeous?”

Noah simply nods.

My insides curdle. I follow Noah into our suite, waiting until I’ve locked the heavy door behind us to soften my voice. “I love you for who you are, okay? You’re safe.”

Noah wraps his arms around my waist, nuzzling into my neck. After a few minutes of slow rocking in each other’s arms, Noah sighs.

“I’m so tired.”

I guide Noah across the room, rubbing my comforting scent on his arm as we walk. “Get in bed, my love. I’ll come join you after brushing my teeth.”

Noah’s drawn eyebrows hurt my heart as he tosses the duvet back. He drops into bed with a heavy bounce like he’s too exhausted to hold his own weight. I drape the covers over him, kissing his cheek, but Noah grabs my hand just before I leave.

“Thank you.”

I lean over him, brushing the hair from his forehead. Each kiss I plant there slows Noah’s blinking—until he finally shuts his eyes.

A stabbing pain strikes my heart; the underlying panic still hasn’t left Noah’s face, the space between his brows crinkling in distress.

We haven’t had a single moment to talk about it since everyone arrived, but in the back of our minds, a looming chaos remains. Any second of any day, a stray pack of furious Alphas could show up to attack, and there’s nothing we can do about it. With how loyal wolves remain to one another, we have no leads—no clue of what’s coming for us or when.

Which is exactly why Noah needs his rest. I better hurry and cuddle him to sleep.

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