Page 50 of King Luna

“I don’t want to see another Omega hurt by another fucking twisted Alpha again! I— I can’t—” He sputters. “I can’t handle that, Luna—”

The second Noah's breath rises to an unsteady sprint, I close the gap between us, my wolf on high alert as I grasp for his tense hand on his bouncing knee. I recognize that familiar, sickening feeling in our bond; his PTSD is going haywire.

God, this makes so much sense. Noah’s wolf might be over-reactive now that I’m pregnant, but the more time we’ve spent around agitated Alphas lately, the worse he has seemed to feel. Maybe his agitation today wasn’t just situational, but also a PTSD symptom.

Pheromones gush from me, coating the room with my nurturing scent. I pulse squeezes down Noah’s shoulders, arms, and hands, pressing firmly enough for him to feel it if he’s dissociating. “Look at us and where we're sitting right now, okay? I’m safe in this room with you, Alpha. You’re safe too, right here with me. We’re safe, and we have each other covered. Nothing's happening to you, me, or our baby.”

Noah chokes out a frantic breath. “God, you’re too sweet. And I’m just— I’m a fucking coward, I—”

“No, gorgeous, don’t listen to that dark chatter. Just breathe. Please, breathe for me.”

Noah shakily inhales into his hands, a tense silence stretching between us as he labors through it. And as this moment catches up to me, the dots connect.

Does this mean another Alpha did this to him? Another Alphahere?

My jaw clenches until it aches. I want to bite them to fucking shreds.

I hold Noah as tight as I can, enveloping him with my whole body. After two agonizing minutes of his poor body shaking the trauma out in my arms, he can finally take a deep, steady breath.

I exhale with him. “Oh, good job! You did it, my love.”

Noah’s expression remains flat. When he speaks, it’s barely above a whisper. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

I comb my fingers through his hair, but he still won’t look at me. “Noah, please listen for a second, okay?”

He nods, flattening his loose shirt over my belly so he can see its small curve. As he gives our baby a gentle rub, my heart flips. I’m dying to be nestled together again.

“If something impacts you this much, I love you so deeply that I don’t care if it doesn’t involve me. I don’t even care if it disturbs me. I still want to know how you feel—good or bad. I want to protect you, just like you want to protect me. And just like you’d tell me: don’t let yourself be alone in this anymore.”

After a heavy swallow, Noah nods. “O-okay. I’m sorry. I love you so much. I would never want to leave you out on purpose.”

“I know. I see that now, and I’m sorry I assumed otherwise.” I run my fingertips down his neck until he buries his face into my shoulder, pulling me into his lap. I giggle. “Don’t hide, my shy Alpha. Kiss me.”

When Noah peeks at me, his sad eyes slowly glint into a gentle smile. “You still want to kiss?”

I sputter out a laugh. “What?! Of course I do! I still love you, even when I’m mad.”

Noah sighs, tucking me closer. “Luna...”

I nuzzle his cheek, relieved to see him smiling again. “Does that mean I should kiss you first instead?” I dare to nibble his earlobe, testing the waters.

Noah's wolf smashes his nose into my wolf's ear in our bond, washing me in excited chills. But his human form breaks into a sly grin. “Not until you’re horizontal, my exhausted, pregnant Luna.”

“Wha—”

I giggle-shriek as Noah wraps an arm across my chest, pressing my back tight to his rib cage, and flops back on the bed with me in his arms. Noah chuckles, cradling me as he flings open the covers.

But his rippling torso captures my full attention as he tears his clothes off, desperate to hold me skin to skin. As my eyes sweep over his body, Noah raises an eyebrow.

I bite my lip. “Alpha...”

He gives me a low growl, prowling over me to kiss me. “Don’t give me that look. You’re too tired for sex.”

I laugh. “You’re not wrong.”

As Noah dissolves into the mattress beside me, he presses kiss after kiss into my lips, each one growing more passionate. I worm my way in closer, aching to be bundled up with him. Unfortunately, our baby is big enough to block our true cuddle ball formation.

Before I can frown, Noah grins. “Don’t worry. Flip over, my angry Luna.”

---