Chapter 276

Noah

It wasn’t long after dinner that Hannah was suddenly rising from her chair and gathering a half-asleep Melody into her arms. Noah looked up with surprise, instantly rising as well.

“I’ll help you—”

“No,” Hannah said, offering Noah a tiny smile. “It’s alright. I think I’m just going to put the little one to bed and go to bed myself.” She turned to Marcus and dipped her head politely, although there was tension in her movement. “It was nice seeing you, Marcus.”

“Going to bed so soon?” Marcus cocked his head. “It’s not even eight o’clock.”

Hannah stiffened, but managed another small smile. “Motherhood is exhausting,” was all she said before turning and slipping away.

As Hannah left, Noah called out to her through their Mindlink. “You sure you’re alright?” Her movements had seemed more sluggish than usual, dark circles ringing her eyes. She didn’t normally tire so easily.

“I think I just didn’t sleep well last night,” Hannah replied, and her mental voice was just as weak as her physical voice. “Don’t worry about me. Besides… You can catch up with your father.”

Noah sent an eye-roll through the bond, causing a small laugh to come back his way. But he cleared his throat and turned to his father, nodding his head toward the living room.

“Whiskey?”

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Marcus replied, rising. His wine sat mostly untouched on the table.

Admittedly, Noah felt oddly exhausted tonight himself. But, like Hannah, he hadn’t gotten much sleep either—not with tonight weighing on his mind like a ton of bricks. Seeing his father was a surefire way to set Noah on edge. He was just glad it was almost over.

“So,” Noah said, uncorking the bottle of whiskey he kept on the highest shelf, “you should know that I intend to marry Hannah again. Soon.”

Marcus’s eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?”

Noah nodded. He poured the whiskey into two glasses, his fingers brushing against his father’s as he handed one to him. Before releasing the glass, however, he held it fast—along with his father’s gaze.

“Melody is our child, you know. And how dare you insinuate otherwise.”

Marcus went stiff, but only for a moment. “I’m only looking out for you, Noah.”

Noah huffed and released his grip on the glass, turning on his heel and plopping down into the nearby armchair. “Well, there’s no need for that,” he all but growled. “Hannah is my mate. I trust her with every fiber of my being.”

More than anyone else, Noah thought to himself bitterly. Trust… now that was something that he’d learned not to place in other people over the years. Not Scott, not Zoe, not even his own family. Just Hannah. And himself.

And maybe Drake, as strange as it still was for Noah to view him as a friend.

Marcus hummed to himself as he swirled the amber liquid around in his glass. “I just don’t understand,” he finally said, his voice softer than Noah anticipated.

Noah quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t understand what?”

“Why…” Marcus gestured vaguely over his shoulder, in Hannah’s general direction. “Her.”

“Why marry her?” Noah leaned forward, bracing one elbow on his knee. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You’re the one who arranged our initial marriage. And if I recall correctly, you were all for it.”

Marcus shook his head and took a sip of his whiskey. “That was a long time ago, Noah.” He paused, pursing his lips for a moment, before continuing. “Her father… He was persistent. Apparently, the girl was quite enamored with you.”

“Because she was my mate.”

Noah’s father didn’t respond to that. “Her father offered a business deal I simply couldn’t refuse,” he continued. “And, well… I didn’t know what she was really like then.”

Noah felt his blood begin to simmer at that. “What sort of deal?” he ground out between clenched teeth. He’d always suspected that there was a business side to the arranged marriage, but had never found out for himself.

Marcus shrugged, a gesture that was far too airy for Noah’s liking. “Oh, just a few shares in one of Silvermoon’s mining companies—you know how lucrative their silver mines are. Or rather, were.”

Noah was silent. He couldn’t fault his father for that; back in those days, Silvermoon’s mines had been booming. Silvermoon had always been known for their silver production. But alas, silver is a finite resource; and over the years, their mines had begun to run dry up.

That was why Hannah’s father had been in desperate need of money last year. Her father, desperate after a few of their silver mines had run completely dry, had made some bad investments to try and make up the difference.

So Noah had given him a check that ultimately allowed Silvermoon to finally purchase some new land up north where untapped silver deposits had been found, and all was made right.

Maybe Noah had helped in order to curry some additional favor from Hannah’s family in the hopes that Hannah might stay with him, but… it was mostly out of the goodness of his own heart.

As for his father… Well, Marcus never did anything that wasn’t entirely selfish.

“You know,” Marcus went on, oblivious to his son’s inner monologue, “I really was intending to marry you off to Zoe before Hannah’s father presented the deal.”

Noah couldn’t help but laugh at that. “In all your years of poor decisions, Father, I think that may have been the worst. Thank the Goddess it didn’t come to fruition.”

Marcus pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes flashing, but seemed to control himself. “Yes, well… I suppose her recent… treacherous actions do place a damper on that,” he admitted. “But you cannot deny that she would have made a good Luna.”

“She was planning on killing me,” Noah added incredulously.

“Perhaps. But you know what they say: better a devil you know than a devil you don’t. And Hannah… well, there’s no knowing what she has planned next.”

Noah sat up ramrod straight, eyes wide with shock and anger, but his father continued, “I saw her little ‘phoenix’ performance at her coronation. Perhaps she did rise from her own ashes. But now… whose ashes will she rise from next?”

With that, Marcus finished the last of his whiskey and stood, setting his glass on the coffee table. Noah hadn’t so much as touched his drink yet, and he had no intention of doing so now.

“Let me get this straight,” Noah said slowly, deliberately. “You invite yourself into my home. You imply that my daughter is not my own, then insinuate that she might not even be Hannah’s child. And now you claim that Hannah, is, what? Plotting some elaborate destruction of Nightcrest for her own gain?”

Marcus snorted and turned, accepting his jacket from the servant waiting nearby. “Oh, she already has destroyed Nightcrest,” he said as he shrugged his coat on. “Or should I say… Silvercrest?”

Noah shook his head, absolutely floored by the insinuation. He stood, grateful that his father was leaving without having to be asked, and opened the door himself.

“Goodnight, Father. It was a displeasure, as always.”

Marcus smirked as he adjusted the collar on his jacket. When he passed by Noah, his very aura somehow seemed colder than the air outside. “Goodnight, Noah. Do keep your wits about you. If you are manipulated by another woman, I’m not sure if our family could recover from the embarrassment.”

And with that, he was gone.

Noah didn’t wait for his father to get into his car before he was slamming and locking the door.

“Some waste that was,” Noah growled, turning on his heel and heading upstairs. He was just glad it didn’t go on for too long, and that he’d at least have time to spend with Hannah before she fell asleep.

Or so he thought. But when he opened the bedroom door, Hannah was already knocked out on the bed—still fully clothed.

Trying and failing to suppress a smirk, Noah walked up to her and peered over her shoulder. She’d only had a glass and a half of wine, hardly enough to make her so drunk she’d pass out immediately.

But as Noah approached, his smirk fell. Hannah looked… pale. Hardly breathing. Something was off.

“Hannah?” Noah gently shook her shoulder, but she didn’t stir. He shook her again, a little harder this time, and still she remained completely unresponsive.

Noah was just beginning to panic, calling out her name in a rising voice, when her eyes slowly opened.

“Wh-What?” she groaned, rubbing her tired eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Noah leaned back, relieved. “You fell asleep in your clothes.”

“Did I?” Hannah sat up with some effort and looked down at her rumpled dress, her hair mussed. “Oh. I guess I did. I was just so tired, I planned to shut my eyes for a few minutes before showering but wound up knocking out.”

“I can see that,” Noah said with a soft laugh, kissing her on the temple before rising and loosening his tie in front of the mirror.

Hannah yawned and stood, reaching for the zipper of her dress. “How did it go with your father?”

Noah stiffened. “Where do I even begin?”