Noah.

I went out to exercise my body a bit, needing the familiar burn of movement to clear my head. For the past two days, the endless preparations for the celebration had completely thrown me off my routine. Meetings, duties, responsibilities, everything had piled up until my body felt restless and wrong, like something vital had been neglected. Running had always been my escape, the one thing that steadied both my wolf and me.

By the time I turned back, my muscles were warm and my breathing steady, my mind finally beginning to quiet. That was when I saw her.

Just a glimpse at first, a familiar back disappearing ahead of me. The way she walked. The slight tension in her shoulders. Something deep in my chest tightened painfully.

Without thinking, without stopping myself, her name slipped from my lips.

"Maria."

She didn’t respond.

Instead, she turned sharply on her heel, and that single movement struck me like a blow to the chest. The suddenness of it, the intent behind it, sent a sharp, slicing pain straight through my heart.

"Maria. Is that you?" I called again, my voice firmer now, almost pleading, as I tried to convince myself I was mistaken.

But instead of stopping, she quickened her pace.

That was all the confirmation I needed.

Before my human mind could even process the hurt blooming inside me, my wolf surged forward instinctively. In a blink, the distance between us vanished. I caught up with her easily and reached out, my hands closing firmly around her shoulders.

"Maria, come on," I said, my voice low, strained. "There’s no need to run from me."

She stiffened under my touch, and that reaction hurt more than I was prepared for. I tightened my grip slightly, not to restrain her, but to keep her from slipping away again.

"Please," I continued, the word falling from me before pride could stop it. "Don’t ever run from me. It breaks my—"

I froze mid-sentence.

A familiar scent wrapped around me, sudden and unmistakable. My breath hitched as my wolf stirred uneasily, recognizing it instantly. My grip loosened without me realizing it, shock rippling through every part of me.

I inhaled again, slower this time, hoping I was wrong.

I wasn’t.

"Why," I asked quietly, dread seeping into my voice despite my effort to stay calm, "why do you have one of the Quadruplet’s scents on you?"

Even as I asked, fear curled tightly around my heart. I didn’t want to hear the answer. I wasn’t sure I could survive it.

I loved Maria. I always had.

From the very first day I laid eyes on her at the Academy, something inside me had shifted. She had been kind when I was new, when I was still finding my footing. Sweet. Gentle. Unaware of the way she slowly became the center of my world. I watched her laugh, watched her help others, watched her care so deeply that it made my chest ache.

But I stayed silent.

Because she liked Daren.

I told myself it was enough just to be near her, enough to see her smile, even if it wasn’t meant for me. Still, envy had crept in no matter how hard I fought it. Daren had everything, her attention, her affection, and yet he treated it like something disposable. Like something that could be carelessly tossed aside.

When I finally found the courage to confess my feelings, when I finally laid my heart bare, she rejected me.

And still, I didn’t stop loving her.

I convinced myself that persistence would change things, that one day she would see me the way I saw her. But she never did.

Five years passed.

And then fate brought her back to me.

Seeing her again after all that time had filled me with a joy so sharp it almost hurt. Daren was no longer in her life, and for the first time, hope bloomed freely in my chest. I thought—no, I believed—that this was my second chance.

I asked her to leave this place with me. Once. Twice. Countless times.

She refused every single time.

At first, I told myself it was pride. That stubborn fire she had always carried. I thought if I was patient enough, if I proved myself enough, she would eventually say yes. She would see how much she means to me, how much I long for her presence, how much I want to be with her.

But now, standing here with that scent clinging to her, doubt gnawed at me mercilessly.

The Quadruplet Alphas.

They were like brothers to me. Especially after I lost my own. We had trained together, fought together, bled together. Competing with them—for anything—had never crossed my mind.

Until now.

If Maria was involved, I wasn’t sure I could step aside. I wasn’t sure I could be noble. The thought of losing her again, of watching her slip through my fingers a second time, was unbearable.

Fate had already taken her from me once.

Now it had placed her back in my path.

And I refused—absolutely refused—to let her go again.

"What do you mean, Noah?" she asked.

Her words were simple, almost innocent, but they struck something sharp inside me. A spark loosened in my chest, hot, volatile, and I had to clench my jaw to keep the anger from spilling out. I could feel it rising, curling tight around my ribs, demanding release. I forced myself to breathe, slow and measured, even as my wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin.

My gaze never left her face. Not for a second.

"Don’t do that," I said softly, though the restraint in my voice cost me more than she could ever know. "You know exactly what I mean."

Her eyes flickered, just barely. It was enough.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Silence stretched between us, heavy and oppressive. The corridor suddenly felt too narrow, the walls pressing in, the air thick enough to choke on. Every breath felt louder than it should have been, every second dragging by with unbearable weight.

I sighed, the sound slow and deliberate, forcing my shoulders to ease even if my chest still burned. I didn’t want to scare her. I didn’t want my frustration to turn into something she would flinch from. Carefully, too carefully, I searched for words that wouldn’t sound like an accusation, even though my heart was screaming.

"Tell me the truth," I said at last. "Are you comfortable here?"

I watched her closely as the question settled in. She didn’t answer right away. Her gaze drifted, unfocused, as if she’d slipped somewhere far away, lost in thoughts she wasn’t ready to voice. The hesitation alone told me more than any words ever could.

She wasn’t comfortable.

The realization hit hard, sharp and unforgiving. Seeing that uncertainty written so plainly on her face twisted something deep inside me. I couldn’t bear it, couldn’t stand the idea of her forcing herself to endure something that clearly weighed her down.

So I spoke again before the silence could crush her further.

"Because if you’re not," I continued quietly, my grip on her loosening just enough to show I wasn’t trying to trap her, though I still couldn’t bring myself to let go completely, "I’m willing to take you with me."

Her attention snapped back to me.

"After today’s celebration," I went on, my voice steady now, resolute, "after the Alphas are done with whatever gathering they’re planning... I can get you out of here."

The words felt dangerous. Final. But they were honest.

I watched her reaction carefully, every tiny shift in her expression, every flicker of emotion she tried to hide. My thumb brushed lightly against her shoulder, an unconscious gesture meant to reassure her, to remind her she wasn’t alone in this moment.

"You don’t have to answer right now," I added, even as urgency threaded beneath my calm. Time felt like an enemy I couldn’t afford. "But think about it, Maria. Really think about it."

My voice softened, the edge dulled by something raw and sincere.

"You deserve more than this," I said. "More than fear. More than silence."

The words weren’t rehearsed. They came straight from the truth I’d been carrying for years.

I exhaled again, quieter this time, and finally stepped back just enough to give her space. It took effort, far more than it should have, to put even that small distance between us.

"I’ll be around," I said. "When you’re ready."

I turned away then, forcing my feet to move even though every instinct screamed at me to stay. As I walked down the corridor, I knew she could still feel my presence, just as I could feel hers lingering behind me.

And as certain as the ground beneath my boots, one truth settled firmly in my chest.

I wouldn’t wait until she was broken enough to ask for help.

When the moment came, I would take her with me...even if she objected.