Noah lets out a short, pained groan, turning his back—as if avoiding the sight of me would protect me. “N-no. I’m scared of hurting you.”
“Okay, then I’m coming closer to the bed to talk, but I won’t touch you until you feel comfortable with it. Is that okay?”
After a long pause, Noah nods.
I kneel at his bedside, sweeping my palms over my belly with slow, steady breaths. Noah grips his forehead, flopping onto hisback. His chest struggles through every breath as he gazes up at the ceiling, his eyes racing back and forth.
I soften my voice. “Are you seeing something repeating?”
He takes in a shuddering breath, contemplating my words. Then he exhales. “I think s-so, actually.”
My stomach sinks. I’ve never seen him in this deep of a trauma response, but from how horrific I know it feels, my whole being aches for him.
Luckily, this hell is temporary, and it’s a hell we both have experience in surviving.
Okay, wolf, let’s think about how to help our mate. When we first arrived at the Summit, Noah mentioned he forgets things around his traumas, so despite his hesitation on what’s happening to him tonight, I’m fairly certain he's having flashbacks. And since Noah’s first instinct was to walk me through my last severe flashback episode, that must be what works for him too.
“Tell me what you’re seeing, love,” I say.
Noah groans. “I don’t know. If I try to talk, I can’t remember what I’m so stressed about, but it’s there.”
“That’s okay. Just tell me if you see anything. I’m here to walk through it with you so it doesn’t keep looping. Mindlink it if you have to.”
Silence stretches throughout the room, but my heartbeat thumps louder by the second.
Until Noah’s breath hitches like he's reflexing against a hit. “Oh, fuck—”
I jump up, protecting my belly with both hands as Noah’s scent warns of extreme danger.
“There you go. You're remembering it now. If you can’t start at the beginning, pick any part of it. Let it out. You’re remembering it because it’s amemory. It’s not the present, where you’re right here with me.”
Noah’s still covering his eyes, but his teeth chatter as his body shakes harder. It breaks my heart.
“H-he—” Noah’s swallow is so thick that I stoop over, struggling to breathe through the shared pain in my chest. “He wasn’t that bad at first. He was actually nice sometimes. That’s what’s embarrassing.”
I slump. “I’m not embarrassed by you. And ‘nice sometimes’ doesn't stop someone from being abusive. I believe you, Noah.” Gripping my own arms, I struggle to steady my voice. “And I believe your body. It’s telling us it experienced trauma, and what it’s feeling isreal.”
Noah’s stressed huffing reverts into tight, held breaths, Noah struggling to suppress tears. “W-well, eventually it was traumatic, I guess. A-and I... I couldn’t stop smelling like an Omega to make him stop hurting me. I tried so hard to stop.”
My heart sinks, dread burns in my bones...
And Noah’s terrified, Omega scent floods the room.
He has never made more sense to me than at this moment. His every hidden inflection, his arguments with his Omega mother over traditional Lycan gender roles, and the way he’s fought for Omegas like hell; he knows the consequences of being born as one.
So when Noah still decides to show me his truth, despite all this hurt that was done to Noah’s Omega side, my Alpha musk explodes, begging me to act. To protect my Omega, always and forever.
I clench my fists at my sides. “You’re doing so great, my love. I’m right here, ready to support you.”
Noah suddenly reaches for my hand, his breath heightening.
I cling to him tight, letting out a happy sigh. “There you go! Can I hold you?”
The second Noah nods, I climb onto the bed. My wolf frantically squishes the comforter, primping my nest until we’re surrounded by a fluffy barricade.
Then I drag Noah beneath the covers like it’s our den. “I’ve got you, Noah. You’re safe.”
He shudders in my arms, gripping the fabric on my back. I nuzzle him, my wolf eyes in full control as they adjust to the darkness beneath the blankets.