Page 102 of Stalked By the Alphas
She pulls back slightly, looking up at me with those beautiful green eyes. A small smile curves her lips, and she giggles softly. “That depends on how well Noah does.”
I snort in surprise and amusement. “I take it Zach made the cut?”
She presses her lips together. “He needs me.”
Those three simple words flood my heart with love for her. She will face down her own demons to fight his. But it’s nothing I didn’t know about her already.
“Come back to the village,” she whispers. “I need you here.”
“I’ll move back immediately.”
She nods and pulls the bear out of my t-shirt. Herfingers brush my skin, and it sends goosebumps up my arms. “Please don’t hurt me, Carter. I just can’t?—”
“I know. We won’t, Hazel. I promise.”
She stands up and steps back, and that is it for now. But it’s more than I expected and hoped for. She clutches the bear to her and buries her nose into it, inhaling my scent, which forces me to my feet.
“Noah had planned to come to you tomorrow to say his piece,” I say awkwardly.
“I’ll be here.”
I nod and then walk. I leave her, wanting to stay but knowing she won’t accept that. Not yet. She needs to hear from all of us, and I swear to god, if Noah fucks this up in any way whatsoever, I will tear his head off and shove it up his arse.
This all rests on him now, and I wonder if I should’ve gone last. But what’s done is done.
Now, we just have to wait.
58
NOAH
The pressure is on.
Carter didn’t say much when he returned yesterday, but I could tell in his stance as he passed us by without a word. He is more confident than he has been in the last couple of days, so I have to assume that things went… okay. I can’t hope to believe that they went well. But she didn’t kick him out and tell him to fuck off. So that leaves me. I pace nervously in my hotel room, running through what I want to say to Hazel later.
I’ve always prided myself on my ability to remain calm and composed in any situation. As a psychologist, it’s a job requirement. But when it comes to Hazel, all my training seems to fly out the window. She has always had that effect on me from the moment we met as children.
Sighing, I sit down on the edge of the bed and pick up the gift I’ve prepared for her. A leather-boundjournal with her name embossed on the cover. Inside, I’ve written a letter on the first page, pouring out my feelings and regrets. I hope it will show her how much she means to me and how sorry I am for everything we’ve put her through.
But a journal and a letter aren’t enough. I know that. We’ve violated her trust in the worst way possible. Words alone can’t fix that. She needs action. She needs to see that we are doing everything we can to be better for her and for ourselves.
I think back to the moment we found her in that cellar, naked, bound and terrified. The rage I felt seeing her like that, knowing what those men had done to her, was overwhelming. In that moment, I understood the true depth of my feelings for her. It wasn’t just love or desire. It was a bone-deep need to protect her, to shield her from any harm. I had failed her then and was determined never to fail her again.
I run my fingers over the smooth leather of the journal, remembering the countless therapy sessions I’ve conducted, the numerous patients I’ve helped. But Hazel isn’t just another patient. She’s so much more, and that complicates everything.
Tomorrow, I need to be completely honest with Hazel. No more half-truths or omissions. She deserves the whole truth, no matter how uncomfortable or painful it might be for me to admit, this isn’t about me.
As I rehearse what I want to say, my mind drifts to Carter and Zach. We’ve always been competitive, eachvying for Hazel’s attention in our own ways. But now, we need to present a united front. We need to show her that we can work together and that we’re all committed to her happiness and well-being.
A soft knock at my door startles me from my thoughts. I open it to find Zach standing there, looking uncharacteristically nervous.
“Can we talk?” he asks, his voice low.
I nod and step aside to let him in. As he enters, I can smell the faint scent of whiskey on him. Not enough to be drunk, but enough to loosen his tongue.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask, though I have a pretty good idea.
Zach runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. “I’m worried about later,” he admits. “What if... what if we can’t fix this? What if Hazel decides she’s better off without us?”
