Page 19 of Healed in the Alpha's Embrace
I told myself I wasn’t jealous, but it was challenging not to compare myself to them. Heather and I found an area at the back of the room, far from the sea of bare skin and gleaming spandex. I contemplated slipping out. In anticipation of that possibility, Heather had placed herself between me and the door.
As I leaned against the cold wall, the door swung open, and Noah Alexander stepped inside. His jawline was so striking, and the way he walked exuded a casual strength that left no mystery as to why he commanded so much attention.
A flurry of hushed tones and not-so-subtle glances passed through the crowd. I honestly thought I saw little heart emojis following him like a wave. They might as well have swooned as he walked past. Folding my arms tightly against my chest, I silently prayed for the class to be over.
“Typical,” I muttered to Heather. Without turning my head, I could feel the shift in the room’s atmosphere, as if the temperature was increasing by a degree or two with every dreamy sigh that filled the air.
Heather’s mischievous smile lit up her face as she tilted her head towards one girl who seemed more fit for the runway than a gym class. Her gym attire resembled a bikini, and her hair and makeup were flawlessly done. Heather leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Is a gym bunny still a bunny if she’s a wolf shifter?”
I pressed my lips together, fighting back the laughter threatening to bubble up. It wasn’t funny, not really, but the predictability of it all bordered on ridiculous.
Noah’s presence was like a magnet, and here I was, miles away from the pull, grateful for the distance. George had made sure I wouldn’t yearn for a man’s touch for a long time—if ever again. The thought soured my stomach, but I shook it off, focusing instead on the reason I was there, which had nothing to do with Noah’s looks or how available or desirable he was. I wanted to learn how to stand up for myself.
“All right, everyone, let’s get started,” Noah said, his no-nonsense attitude cutting through the fog of infatuation that had settled over the room. And though I wouldn’t admit it out loud, the seriousness in his tone was exactly what I needed to hear.
“Can we all take a moment to focus here?” Noah’s tone sliced through the chatter, bringing an abrupt silence to the room. “Look, this is a self-defense class, not a fashion show. You need attire that allows you to move freely. Let’s get one thing straight,” he carried on, pacing before us. “If you’re not serious about learning how to defend yourself, you should leave now.”
Everyone in the room collectively held their breath, but nobody moved. Despite the tension, I knew this was exactly where I needed to be.
Noah clapped his hands once, a sharp sound that echoed through the gym. “Okay, then. Let’s start with some basic stretches.” He moved to demonstrate, and I watched intently, trying to mirror his posture.
I glanced sideways and caught the wide-eyed looks of surprise from a couple of women who clearly hadn’t expected such a sober start to class. One even stumbled as she transitioned into the stance, her tight leggings hindering the movement. I stifled a chuckle. By the end of the class, I bet they’d appreciate Noah’s point about the importance of practical clothing.
“Keep your head up, and make a note of your posture,” he corrected someone. That stern tone didn’t waver, nor did hispatience thin. It was clear he took this seriously. It wasn’t just a job for him.
I glanced around. Nobody had left. Despite their initial reactions, everyone seemed to be settling into the rhythm of the class. Noah’s dedication, it seemed, was infectious.
5
NOAH
Ientered a room full of defined bodies and bare skin. Many of the women had opted for sports bras and shorts or tight leggings. Most heads turned in my direction, many of them smirking like they’d just hit some kind of jackpot. I kept my face neutral as I searched the class, careful not to linger and give anyone the wrong impression.
There was a tug in my soul, an invisible force compelling me to move farther into the room. My gaze landed on Zoey, who was tucked in the back corner. She wasn’t flaunting herself like the others. Her outfit was modest and practical. It told me all I needed to know. She meant business.
When our eyes met, a guilty flush crept up my neck, and I averted my eyes. I’d had trouble settling down last night, thinking of Zoey and the upcoming class. I’d gone on a run, my wolf urging me to check on Heather’s place again. Honestly, it hadn’t taken much convincing from him. I’d found a vantage point in the trees, allowing me to observe the back of the house.
Zoey’s soft lilt had carried out through an open window as she read her son a bedtime story. Her interactions were warm, and even from a distance, I could feel the love. When she wasdone reading to her son, she joined Heather in the kitchen, and their conversation confirmed my suspicions.
A cold dread had settled in my stomach as the details of the cruelty she’d experienced unfolded. My mind reeled, trying to comprehend the nightmare she had lived through. How could a man claim to love a woman and then treat her like that? Hearing Zoey’s broken sobs had been excruciating. It should have been me consoling her, my arms wrapped around as she unleashed the pain she held inside her. My wolf demanded that I push forward and make her mine, to guard our mate, keep her and her son safe.
I pulled him back. We had to move slowly. Get to know Zoey Lester and gain her trust.
Still, thinking about what she had endured pissed me off and agitated my wolf. I’d encounteredmenlike her ex before on the boxing circuit. They were the type who would readily throw punches at a woman outside the ring, but far less when confronted by another man.
Violence against women should never be tolerated. Knowing it had happened to her, my fated mate, made me want to track the bastard down, tear his fucking head off, and hand it to her on a plate. But I couldn’t do that. Inflicting that kind of brutality would only result in Zoey fearing me, too. She needed to feel empowered in her own ability to protect herself and her son. So, I would support her and ensure she got the most out of this class.
I had to redirect my focus, get my act together, and give the class the attention it deserved. “Everyone is here for their own reasons,” I said, surprised my voice was so steady when my blood was still boiling at the thought of Zoey being hurt. “And it’s my job to make sure you leave with the tools to defend yourself.”
“Let’s start with some basic stretches,” I instructed, moving to the front of the room. “Follow my lead.”
I demonstrated a hamstring stretch, planting my feet and reaching for my toes. A group of women at the front began mimicking me, but their attempts at seductive displays were sadly predictable. Ignoring them, I focused on making sure everyone was following the movements correctly. Their shoulders slumped, and they became less engaged as they realized I wasn’t romantically interested in them. It wouldn’t surprise me if they didn’t come back to class. Ultimately, what mattered most was that those who were here for genuine reasons found value in the class. It was a self-defense class, not speed dating.
“Good form is crucial,” I stated. “It prevents injuries.”
As I scanned the room, I caught Zoey’s reflection in the mirror. She was following along, her movements careful and precise. I didn’t fixate on her. Fuck knows I wanted to, but I didn’t want her to feel singled out or self-conscious under my gaze.
“Sorry I’m late, Noah!” Carla burst through the door, her voice slicing through the stillness.
