Chapter 211

Hannah

I spent the entire day avoiding the internet, too afraid and cowardly to see the backlash over the audio tapes being released. I could already imagine the comments: calling me a whore, a liar, a traitor.

I couldn’t bear to see if those comments truly existed.

So my phone remained face down on the nightstand all day, untouched and silent. If any of my friends tried to reach out to me, I wouldn’t know. They would understand why I hadn’t replied.

Instead, I buried myself in my preparations for my presentation at the Luna Council—assuming I was still invited to the next meeting. Luna Alanna hadn’t contacted me, nor had anyone else from the council. I supposed that was a good sign.

Eventually, when my eyes grew too bleary to keep working, I resorted to pacing the house like a restless tigress.

The house felt eerily quiet, almost oppressive in its silence. Every creak of the settling foundation made me jump, my nerves frayed and on edge. I kept glancing at the doors, where the guards were still stationed. They hardly seemed to move all day, although occasionally I would notice a new face here and there as they changed shifts.

Soon, in just a few short months, I would no longer have an Alpha to handle these sorts of things. I would be the Alpha handling them. I would be protecting myself. My child. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying.

My hand rested on my belly. I was nearly five months along now, and there was no more hiding the small bump beneath my clothes.

The sun had long since set when I finally heard the front door open. Noah’s heavy footsteps echoed through the house, slower than usual.

When he appeared in the doorway of the living room, he looked exhausted, his suit rumpled and his hair a disheveled mess.

“It’s handled,” he said, his voice gruff. As he circled the sofa, I could see that dark circles ringed his eyes, and his shoulders were slumped with weariness. “The clip was claimed as a deepfake and taken down. We couldn’t confirm the IP address of the poster, but... for now, at least, everything’s fine.”

“And the public?” I whispered, afraid of the answer.

“Like I said, it was claimed to be a deepfake. You’ll—we’ll—be fine.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding as Noah flopped onto the sofa beside me. It felt as if a hundred-pound leaden weight had been lifted off my chest. I wanted to run to him, to throw my arms around him and kiss him all over.

“Really? It’s over?” My voice sounded small and hopeful, even to my own ears.

Noah nodded, loosening his tie with a weary hand. “For now. But Hannah…” He hesitated, his green eyes meeting mine, a mix of concern and something else I couldn’t quite read in their depths. “Why didn’t you tell me about WhiteRabbit?”

I swallowed hard, looking away, unable to meet his gaze. The room suddenly felt too warm, too small.

“I... I was afraid to tell you,” I admitted softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “At the time, I didn’t trust you. I didn’t know how you would react.”

Pain flashed across Noah’s face, a brief crack in his usually composed expression. But to my surprise, he nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes.

“I can’t deny that I wasn’t the best ally for you in the past,” he said all too quietly. “I can’t blame you for not trusting me. But from now on, at least for the remainder of your pregnancy, I want us to communicate better. No more secrets, okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed, noticing how the lines of exhaustion seemed permanently etched into his face after the whole ordeal. He had never come back to bed last night. I hated to admit how that cold spot where he belonged kept me awake, too. “You should rest. You look exhausted.”

Noah nodded, his head lolling back on the cushion behind him as his eyes fluttered closed. Without thinking, I went to the kitchen. I warmed some milk in a pan and grabbed a cookie from the jar on the counter.

When I returned, Noah was half-asleep, his breathing slow and deep.

“Here,” I said softly, setting the milk and cookie on the coffee table. “This might help.”

Noah opened his eyes and blinked at me, surprise evident in his tired features. “Oh. Thank you.”

I hesitated for a moment as he bit into the cookie, then found myself moving behind the couch. Slowly, tentatively, I reached out and began to rub his shoulders, feeling the knots of tension beneath my fingers. His muscles were like steel cables, wound tight with stress and worry.

Noah let out a soft groan, the sound sending an unexpected shiver down my spine. “I should be the one doing this for you,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Not the other way around.”

“Shh,” I hushed him, my fingers working deeper into the knots. “Just relax.”

As I worked the tension out of his muscles, I realized how much I had softened toward Noah lately. The thought startled me, and I found myself wondering when this change had occurred. If it weren’t for the situation with Silvermoon, I might even consider...

No. I couldn’t let myself think that way.

…

Later that night, as we got ready for bed, Noah turned to me. The soft lamplight cast a warm glow on his face, softening his tired features.

“Do you want to fulfill our contract tonight?” he asked, his voice gruff with exhaustion.

I hesitated, biting my lip for a moment. The thought of sleeping with him tonight in that way… It wasn’t appealing to me. Not for lack of attraction, but…

I shook my head. “Not tonight. I just want you to... hold me. If that’s okay.” The words surprised me as much as they seemed to surprise him.

Noah blinked at me, surprise flickering across his face. “You don’t want to have sex? Even though we didn’t last night?”

“No,” I said softly, feeling suddenly vulnerable. “I just want you to hold me.”

For a moment, Noah just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Okay,” he said, his voice gentle, almost tender.

We climbed into bed, the sheets cool against my skin. Noah switched off the lights, plunging the room into darkness.

In the quiet night, I felt his warm arms wrap around me, tugging me flush against his body. His chest was solid against my back, his breath warm on my neck. The scent of his cologne, faint after a long day, enveloped me like a familiar cocoon.

As we lay there in the quiet darkness, I felt something shift inside of me. This felt more intimate, more emotional than any of our recent sexual encounters. I could feel Noah’s heartbeat against my back, steady and strong, a comforting rhythm in the stillness of the night.

I woke the next morning expecting to find Noah gone as usual, but the bed was still indented beside me, those warm arms holding me close against his chest. At some point during the night, I had turned to face him.

I flicked my eyes open, my breath catching in my throat as I saw him still asleep beside me, his expression softened in sleep. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room.

In the gentle morning light, I studied his face. He looked younger in sleep, the lines of worry smoothed away, his features relaxed and peaceful.

Without thinking, I reached out and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. My fingers grazed his skin, warm and smooth beneath my touch. As I watched him sleep, memories of the past months flashed through my mind—the tender moments, the shared laughter, the quiet understanding that had grown between us. None of the pain or the fighting or the anguish.

Suddenly, a realization hit me like a thunderbolt. My heart stuttered in my chest, and I felt a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the morning sun or the blankets wrapped around us.

Dammit. I had fallen for him.