Freeing My Alpha: Book 2 of My Shy Alpha

Chapter 4

Rainn guides us down a small trail on the edge of the clearing. A line of curious pups hops into her footsteps in the mud.

"We're nearing the portion of the forest with extra poison oak. You all remember how to identify it, right?"

"Right," a chorus of proud voices chime after Rainn.

"Good! Let's steer clear and warn each other if we spot it."

I smile, my heart lifting. Dad left me with the skills to recognize Greenfield Forest flora too. With how haphazardly these pups roam the forest, I can see why they already needed to memorize how to avoid poison oak so early.

"Can someone help me find the next set of footprints for our deer?" Rainn asks.

My eyes zip to the forest floor, scouring the mud beneath the leaves. But then Rainn adds, "Use your nose only!"

My stomach sinks. Noah glances back as my feet slow, and I try to smile.

But I don't know how to do this. Toddlers track wild deer with their noses all around us with no problem. Maybe I could too, but I have no idea where to start. I never was taught.

You okay? Noah mindlinks. We're striding ahead, his focus remaining on the pups as he gives them encouraging nods. "Good job, Beta, that's exactly it," he murmurs, drawing a wide grin onto a little boy's face.

My heart flips. Before today, I could only imagine how sweetly Noah would treat our children, but this is giving me a clearer glimpse that's so delightful, I almost can't stand it yet.

But as his eyes flicker to mine, they're still greener than usual. "You okay?" He tries out loud this time.

I drop my head, hiding my flushed cheeks. "Sorry. I'm okay. I just remembered something."

"Yeah?" He draws closer, hugging me against his side.

The wind gushes through the trees, ruffling leaves and pups' hair as far as I can see. They're covered in mud, but they're also all smiling.

"Yeah," I whisper. "I used to love playing in the dirt."

Noah breaks into the widest smile possible, dissolving all my flustered nerves. We break into soft giggles, huddling in closer. "Goddess, I can imagine you getting your tiny hands all muddy."

I laugh. "I loved it. But my mom didn't."

Noah tilts his head, studying my expression. I'm still smiling, but there's no denying the tumultuous ache from my side of our bond.

Maybe classifying my situation as "never taught" is putting it too lightly. The more I think about it, the more I realize life trained me into not only a subservient woman but also as little of a Lycan as possible. Every curious, wolflike childhood memory ended in shame.

Rainn calls out, "Over here, everyone!"

Noah and I follow the pups to Rainn. A part of me is dying to participate, but to do so, I'll have to ask how to even track scents in the first place, and that sounds absolutely humiliating.

All these pups are looking up to us, expecting Noah and I to not only lead them, but also entrusting their lives to us with full faith we'll keep them safe. But how can I when I can't even sniff out danger unless it's shoved in my face?

As Rainn explains the intricacies of scent tracking, my eyes gloss over. My heart is racing and my chest feels hot, embarrassment sinking me further into Noah's side without me even realizing it.

But a soft nudge on my shoulder guides me away from the group. Hurrying away with him while the pups are distracted, we stop behind a nearby boulder.

I look up to find Noah's gentle smile. When I can't fully smile back, he doesn't pressure me for answers: he sends me a wave of his soothing scent. My shoulders soften, but I'm tempted to cry.