Page 96 of Healed in the Alpha's Embrace
“Like soulmates?” Confusion laced my voice, unsure where she was going.
“Sort of,” she said. “To shifters, a fated mate is the one person who is your perfect match. Your destinies are intertwined.”
“What does that have to do with me?” I asked, a sense of dread building in my stomach.
“Zoey, fated mates are... they’re rare. But when a shifter finds their fated mate, it’s intense. Everything about them calls to their wolf.”
I knitted my brow. “Heather, why are you telling me this?”
“Because…” She looked at me with a mix of frustration and compassion. “Noah didn’t just take an interest in you because you needed help. You’re his fated mate.”
I stood abruptly, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. “Why wouldn’t he tell me this, Heather? How long have you known?”
Heather’s lips pressed into a thin line. “We didn’t know for sure,” she admitted slowly. “But Sam and I suspected when Noah started hovering around you like a hawk.”
“His protectiveness...” I trailed off as the pieces fell into place.
“Classic fated-mate behavior, especially from an alpha,” Heather said, the statement tinged with despair. “And his wolf has been on edge, more aggressive than ever. It’s because he hasn’t claimed his fated mate yet. Because he hasn’t claimed you. It’s almost an insult to his wolf. All his wolf wants is for everyone to know you belong to him. But he’s been holding back because he didn’t want you to feel trapped.”
My hands shook as the implications dawned on me. The way Noah looked at me, the intensity in his eyes… it was more than just concern or attraction. It was a primal pull, one I had unwittingly rejected.
“I turned him down,” I whispered, the guilt crashing over me like a tidal wave. “Heather, I hurt him.”
“Zoey, how could you have known?” Heather’s voice softened, but she avoided my gaze. “You’ve been through so much already. Would you have taken the news well? That you’re essentially tied to another man after everything you’ve escaped? That’s why he didn’t tell you.”
Her words hit home, and I sank back onto the couch. The truth stung, but I couldn’t deny it. I craved freedom, not another chain, even if it was cloaked in the guise of destiny. Noah deserved someone who could embrace all aspects of him, including his wolf, and I... I had to find myself before I could belong to anyone else.
I pushedthe door open and stepped out into the cool night. The backyard was illuminated by the shimmering silver light of the moon. I made my way to the old swing hanging from the sturdy oak, its chains creaking as I sat down.
“Shit,” I muttered, pressing my palms into my eyes. Noah’s face swam behind my closed lids, the twist of pain on his when I told him there was no us. I hadn’t understood it at the time. But now… God, it made sense. He had been wrestling with a secret that was fundamental to who we were supposed to be to each other.
“It would’ve freaked me out,” I confessed to the night, acknowledging the cold truth. If Noah had laid it all out, that I was some kind of predestined mate to him, I’d have bolted. My freedom had been hard-won. The idea of fate binding me to another would have felt like a gilded cage.
But when would he have told me? Was that why his voice had cracked and why his goodbye had lingered, as if he had more to say? The thought of me cutting him off right when he might have been ready to spill his truth twisted the knife of guilt deeper.
I dragged in a ragged breath, exhaling slowly. My chest tightened as if an invisible chain was constricting it. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees and staring at nothing. The cool metal of the swing beneath me provided no comfort, yet here I was, seeking solace in the stillness of the night.
“Woulda, coulda, shoulda,” I whispered into the silence. None of it mattered now. The damage was done. And there I was, sitting alone with the ache of what-ifs and the heavy weight of realizations left too late.
One of those realizations was that I felt something for Noah I had never felt before. I wasn’t sure, but I thought it might be love.
A presence in the distance prickled at my skin, a familiar energy that tugged at something deep within me. I knew without looking that it was Noah. His quiet strength had a way of filling up the space around him, even from afar. Ashamed of the hurt I’d caused, I couldn’t bring myself to face him, to look into those blue eyes that saw right through me.
“Should have told me,” I whispered, the words barely a breath as they slipped out. A part of me could have taken the truth—at least, that’s what I told myself, anyway. But honesty gnawed at the edges of that conclusion. Could I really have accepted it?
Life felt like a puzzle with pieces scattered and edges frayed. I needed to piece it back together, make sense of the chaos, without dragging Noah into the mess George had left in his wake.
“Maybe then,” I murmured. Maybe Noah would give me another chance after all this was done, after I faced down the ghost of George looming over my future. Maybe he’d still want me.
For now, though, distance was the cruel but necessary choice. My heart, unruly and stubborn, wouldn’t let go otherwise. And so, with every fiber of my being aching from the weight of newfound truths, I stayed put on the swing, letting the silence between us speak its truth.
His silhouette was a shadow against the moonlit backdrop of the woods.
“Noah, please just go home,” I said before I headed inside without looking back.
27
NOAH
