Chapter 69

Hannah

The kiss felt like a dam had broken.

I melted into Noah’s arms despite my best efforts, my fingers clutching almost desperately at the crisp fabric of his tuxedo lapels. It had been so long—far too long—since I had felt the heat of his mouth against mine.

He hadn’t kissed me in what felt like an eternity; we hadn’t even locked lips during our monthly intimacy nights in ages, too focused on simply getting the job done. But now…

A soft, broken sound escaped the back of my throat, something between a gasp and a moan muffled by the insistent press of his lips. Thankfully, it was drowned out by the music.

Too much, it was too much. And yet, somehow, it was nowhere near enough all at once.

Just when I thought I might actually collapse from the sheer intensity of the moment, Noah was pulling away. Not far, just enough to allow us both to breathe a little. His hands remained pressed around my jaw, his shoulders crowding around me like a solid wall.

My eyes fluttered open slowly, dazedly, only for the breath to catch in my lungs once more at the fiery hunger blazing in Noah’s eyes. The depths of those green irises seemed to burn with a fire I hadn’t seen in… well, forever, if I was being honest with myself.

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to lean in and taste that smoldering heat with my lips one more time for good measure, or whether I wanted to turn and run as far from this place as I possibly could.

But it didn’t matter, because it seemed as though the awe-stricken crowd had decided for me. Their lovesick Luna and Alpha had just kissed in public, after all. It was quite the spectacle.

“Alpha Noah! Luna Hannah! Over here, please!”

We both startled, Noah’s hands falling away from me as if he had been burned as he snapped his head toward the sound. A sharply dressed reporter was pushing her way through the crowd, and I recognized her immediately.

Emily, the journalist who I had once hired.

“Could I interview the two of you?” she asked as she approached. “Just a few questions?”

Noah’s expression had gone carefully blank, that brief glimpse of himself tucked neatly away once more. I glanced up at him, but found nothing there. Not even a whisper of that almost feral desire that I had seen moments before.

The smart thing to do would be to politely decline. After all, I had had one interview with Emily before and Noah hadn’t necessarily approved.

But I knew that Noah had likely invited her here for a reason. And who was I to shy away from a little more positive press?

“I’d love to,” I said, looping my arm through Noah’s once more. “What do you say, Noah?”

Noah paused beside me for a split second before seeming to force himself to relax, his free hand coming up to rest on top of mine. “That sounds nice,” he said.

The three of us made our way off to the side, ignoring the curious looks of the other guests as we found a table to settle at. Noah waved over a server, who set down various drink glasses and a tray of hors d’oeuvres in the middle of the table.

“So,” Emily said, laying out her notepad, “this event is quite exciting, and such a last-minute affair. May I ask what the reason for celebration is?”

Noah cleared his throat smoothly before I could speak. “It’s our anniversary.”

My eyes widened. Anniversary? We had gotten married in the fall, not…

“The anniversary of our meeting,” he added, shooting me a pointed glance. I paused, trying not to furrow my brow. But we hadn’t met on this date. He knew that, right?

“Oh, how romantic,” Emily said, jotting on her notepad. “It’s so sweet that you remembered. Most couples only care about their wedding anniversary, or the date that they started going steady.”

“Yes, well,” I started, trying not to show how perturbed I was as I tried to gather my racing thoughts. “Noah and I are—”

“We’re the sentimental type,” Noah interjected smoothly, his warm palm settling firmly over my hand. He shot me a subtle look—almost a warning.

So he was up to something tonight. I was sure of that now.

If Emily noticed anything amiss, she didn’t show it. She simply nodded agreeably, waiting with her pen poised over her notepad as Noah proceeded to lay out a slick, clearly pre-rehearsed response about the importance of the little things when it comes to love.

Bullshit, all of it, I thought to myself. Seriously, what’s his angle? This isn’t the day we met. It’s just a random Saturday.

Still, I calmly watched his profile as he spoke, admittedly impressed by the steady cadence of his deep voice and the effortless confidence and charisma he projected. This was the Noah I remembered so vividly from our earliest days, the born leader with an uncanny ability to command any room.

Had he always been a liar like this? Even back during the days when he did things like making pinky promises? Were those all rehearsed moments, too?

Before I could dwell too long on my thoughts, however, Emily cleared her throat gently and pulled me from my reverie.

“Lovely sentiment, Alpha. And you, Luna Hannah?” she turned to me with a pleasant smile. “Might we have a few words from you as well?”

“Excellent,” Emily said, flipping to the next page of her notebook. “I have to ask—how old were you when you and the Alpha first met, Luna Hannah? Before your bond was sealed, I mean. There’s been such a veil of secrecy surrounding the details of your relationship. How many years has it been today?”

I opened my mouth to respond. “I was se—”

But before I could finish, Noah jumped in, smooth as ever. “Hannah was fifteen years old when we first met,” he answered, patting my hand. “I was going on eighteen. We would have been high school sweethearts, had we been from the same pack.”

My head whipped around at that, my heart pounding. That wasn’t right. Not at all. I had been seventeen, just a few months younger than Noah.

As Noah went on to prattle along about young love and the like, I felt as if my world had twisted around me. Another lie, another subtle changing of details… and for what? For his own gain, his own narrative?

Or had he truly forgotten about our past together?

It hit me then, as I sat there. Goddess, I couldn’t believe it; he had mixed me up with Zoe. He had mixed up their meeting story with ours. How could he? I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Noah,” I interrupted, turning to face him, “you got the dates wrong. I was seventeen when we met; I’m only a few months younger than you.”

A tense silence fell over the table at that. Emily’s pen stopped scratching across the paper, Noah’s jaw hung open, and it almost felt as though the entire party had gone utterly silent even though it really hadn’t.

I just stared at him blankly, stared at the man who called himself my husband but couldn’t even seem to remember my own age.

And he stared right back at me, unblinkingly, for the longest time.

Finally, Emily let out a small, nervous laugh. “Fifteen and seventeen,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “Those are two very different numbers.”

“Yes, they are,” I said, keeping my expression carefully neutral as I turned back to face Emily. I managed a thin smile and waved my hand dismissively. “Ah, well. Perhaps he just got me mixed up with someone else.”

Emily laughed at my light barb, oblivious to the tension beneath the table. Noah, however, had fallen utterly silent.

Good, I thought to myself as I plastered that fake smile on my face and continued on with the interview as if nothing had happened. Serves him right.

Not that it made it hurt any less.