Chapter 0032

Noah returned the plate to the kitchen sink, a small smile playing on his lips. Despite lingering anger and frustration with Hannah, he felt a glimmer of pride at her attempt to eat. Her eating disorder had always pained him deeply; not just because it marred her once lovely appearance—the sharp angles of her protruding bones, the sallow thinness of her cheeks—but because it spoke to a deeper brokenness within her, a brokenness he had never been able to fix, no matter how hard he tried. Hannah had grown far too skinny, to the point of serious health concern. Seeing her frail, emaciated form made his chest ache with worry, even if their relationship had become strained over the years. She was still his wife, after all. He still cared for her well-being, even if he might never admit it.

With a weary sigh, Noah dried his hands and returned to his study. He had only come home to collect a few things and never intended to spend the night. But as he gathered his folders and laptop, he sighed. Perhaps he had been too harsh on Hannah at dinner. A kernel of guilt gnawed at him—her recent efforts with food, as well as her attitude toward Zoe, had been commendable. He should have been more encouraging instead of mocking. Maybe he would try to be a little nicer, even though Hannah still royally pissed him off sometimes.

The next morning, as the sun peeked over the horizon, a messenger arrived at Noah’s office with news that made his heart stutter: the Alpha Council would be arriving that evening, a full day ahead of schedule. Panic bloomed in his chest as he realized how far behind the preparations were. They had a gala to throw, a gala that would be judged on Nightcrest pack’s ability to host the Lunar Festival. Given recent press, Nightcrest hosting the festival was of utmost importance. Normally, Noah didn’t care much; but if he was going to be divorcing Hannah soon, he wanted all the good press he could get.

That wasn’t the only source of pressure, though. Drake would be arriving in mere hours, not days. Zoe’s ex-husband, the source of so much turmoil and heartache… Noah’s jaw clenched at the thought. He cared deeply about Zoe, even though her arrival was unannounced, and he wanted her to be safe. Pushing that aside, he leapt into action, barking orders at the servants to ready the dining hall and guest quarters immediately.

Noah was instructing decorators on hanging banners when a gentle hand on his arm made him turn. It was Zoe, a crease of worry marring her delicate features.

“Noah, may I have a word?” Her voice was soft, but there was an unmistakable tremor beneath it.

He nodded gruffly, snapping his fingers at a servant to move a table. “Of course. What is it?”

Zoe glanced at the bustling servants, chewing her cheek, before leaning closer. “It’s about Drake coming. I’m… I’m afraid of him.”

Noah felt his heart clench at the naked fear in her eyes. Instinctively, he grasped her hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “What are you afraid of? You know I would never let him harm you or your son.”

She shook her head, chewing her lower lip. “It’s not that. I know he won’t hurt me, but… I’m worried he may try to… to take me back with him. Keep me from going through with the divorce.”

The words hung heavy in the air. Noah’s grip tightened almost punishingly as protective anger washed over him. Over his dead body would Drake lay a hand on Zoe, and if she wanted to leave her husband, she had that right. Along with the pang in his chest, a sort of irony washed over Noah as well. He realized he was also trying to keep Hannah from divorcing him—although, they had an agreement, and he would let her go once the month was up, as promised. Did Hannah feel this way about him? Afraid?

“I won’t let that happen,” he finally stated, his voice low and vehement. “Nightcrest pack is your home. It always has been. You’ll be safe here, I promise you that.”

Zoe’s eyes misted over as she lifted a hand to gently cup his cheek. “Thank you,” she breathed, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek.

Noah froze at the feeling of her lips against his skin, his breath catching in his throat. Heat blossomed in his belly as a rush of longing, buried but not forgotten, surged through his veins. For a wild, dizzying moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and lose himself in her embrace; to rekindle the spark of passion that had drawn them together all those years ago. But the moment passed as quickly as it came. No. He didn’t feel that way about Zoe anymore; they had severed their ties, and he was married to Hannah now. For now, at least.

Zoe pulled back with a shy smile, giving his arm one final squeeze before turning to go. Noah watched her retreat, his heart pounding as conflicting waves of affection and anger roiled inside him. He was so lost in the swirl of emotions that he didn’t notice Hannah approaching until she was nearly upon him. Noah braced himself for her scorn, her fury at the intimate moment she had likely just witnessed between him and Zoe.

In the past, she would have raged and wept, perhaps even thrown herself at him in a jealous fit. Hell, she couldn’t even bear to hear Zoe’s name without locking herself in her room or starving herself. But today… today, she simply met his gaze with a placid smile, not a hint of ire in her eyes.

“Good morning,” she greeted pleasantly, as if everything were normal. As if Noah’s heart wasn’t still thundering madly in his chest from Zoe’s tender caress.

“Morning,” he said, quickly turning away to instruct another servant on a centerpiece. “It needs more lilies,” he stated.

The servant dipped his head and scurried away for more flowers. Noah turned, expecting Hannah to be gone, but she wasn’t; she was still standing there, her thin arms folded across her chest, her dress hanging loosely on her frame—although perhaps the tiniest bit less loosely these days.

“Need something?” he asked, perhaps a bit abrasively.

Hannah simply shrugged. “Just overseeing the preparations,” she said. “Tonight’s gala is important to me, too.”

Without another word, she strode off, swinging her hips. Her hair was up, the nape of her neck exposed, and Noah couldn’t help but stare. Noah blinked as she glided away, utterly confused by her calm demeanor. Who was this new, confident woman? This Hannah who seemed utterly unruffled, even in the face of intimacy between her husband and romantic rival? And what in all the hells had she done with his wife?