When the bad boy gets two rival alphas for mates...
Noah should be dead. So why is he still breathing?
Alphas Mason and Tristan are mates. So why aren't they together?
After his famous family separates, Noah Jackson is sent to move from his childho...
Noah asks as I finish washing the dishes in the kitchen on the other side of the dorm. It was our last night here before we moved into the packhouse and I dried each dish to place it in a cardboard box with the others.
Noah's scent cinnamon scent flooded the room as he came back into the small studio apartment after showering. I turned my head back for a second as he plopped down at the kitchen table beside his homework curled up in his bathrobe.
"I think it'll be beautiful no matter the gender," I shrug as I finish the last dish. Lighting a candle on the counter to mask the lingering smell of from Noah suddenly got sick as we were about to head out to Tristan's last game.
"You're no fun," He huffs as he picks up his tablets to toss them in his backpack.
"How are you feeling?" I ask to check up on him and he lets out a loud groan.
"A little better but not by much, you know where Tris is at? It's getting kind of late," He asks and I dry my hands on my jeans.
"No, but it was his last game so I'm sure he's probably out with his teammates. Why don't you go rest on the bed and I'll put these away," I take the backpack from him and he nods, letting out a light sigh as he goes into the fridge and pulls out a can of ginger ale.
"You're probably right, thank you. Hey google, what's the score for Tristan's game?" He asks the google home sitting on the nightstand as he sits at the edge of the bed.
"Grayson Academy wins with a score of 3-0," Google answers and I set his bag on the couch, where it would travel in the car with us on our way to the new packhouse. I try to use the link to reach Tris but there was no response. I'm guessing he must be busy or driving.
"Any ideas yet for pack names Beta Noah?" I ask and Noah rolls his eyes.
"Everything I have rattling around is so bland. Like Ayala or Ronan," He huffs as he takes a small sip of ginger ale while running his hand over his growing stomach.
"Mason, Tristan, and Noah Ayala? I think that one has a nice ring to it," I admit as I join him on the bed and draw him close to me. The two of us weren't as comfortable with each other as we were with Tristan but we were slowly catching up.
Placing my chin on his shoulder, I gently kissed my mark with my hands wrapped around his waist as he melted into me. We were supposed to go to Tristan's game but with Noah's unpredictable morning sickness, we decided to stay back instead.
"You think he'll be mad that we didn't make it?" Noah asks and I close my eyes as I burring my head into his shoulder.
"Tristan? Nah, he would never. And if he was, he'd understand the second we explain what happened," I try to calm his nerves but I know he was feeling guilty for not going to our boyfriend's final game.
"You should have gone Mason," He sighs and I knew that would never happen. Tristan and I made that agreement that we would never leave him by himself throughout his pregnancy. And if I left Noah alone in the apartment just to go to the game he would never forgive me.
"Don't worry about it babe, I told you he'll understand," I repeat myself but this time he seems to agree.
"I guess," He says and places his hands over mine, slipping them into his robe so I could feel the bare skin of his stretched stomach. The little one fluttered slightly against my hand and I had to remind myself to breathe after it took my breath away. It was my first time feeling the baby move even in the slightest.
"Did you feel that?" Noah asked and I nodded, feeling a small movement again as it seems to say hello.
"Do you think it's mine?" I asked Noah honestly and the two of us remained quiet for a few moments. I continued to feel the movement of the little one and he contemplated his answer.
"Mase, it's a fifty-fifty shot here. But is that really important? The three of us will all be together, either way, that's all that matters," Noah answers my question and I guess he had a point. I did love this little one as if it was my own and I would protect them at all cost.
"Just imagine a beautiful little mini Tristan running around," I chuckle slightly at a toddler-sized version of our boyfriend and Noah tilts his head to kiss my cheek.
"Or a tiny Mason with fluffy brown curls and deep brown eyes," he imagines and I give him a slight squeeze. His phone starts to rattle across the nightstand and he groans as he reaches for it. Snatching it up to his ear.
"Hello?" He answers and I pull away from him to put on some more comfortable clothing for bed.
"We'll be right there," Noah hangs up and rushes over to the closet.
"What's wrong? Is your papa okay?" I ask as he tosses on the first set of clothes he sees.
"No, I mean, yes he's fine but we have to go to the Caspian's packhouse," He replies as he turns back to me. A single tear dripping down his cheek as he did so.
"The Caspian's? Noah are you alright? You know we can't-"
"Something happened to Tristan,"
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Sorry for not being here daily. Kind of hard to write when Grayson's on my lap. But I'm doing my best.
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Grayson's ears perked up this week and he's now 8 weeks old so here's a cute pic if you're feeling sad.
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