Chapter 132

Cara’s POV

I can admit that in these early morning hours, I temporary forgot about the danger I was in. I should have told Alaric or security and insisted on taking someone else with me to help keep Noel and I safe during breakfast.

Yet, the way Alaric is acting now is beyond the pale. I know he’s jealous, and that he’s worried, but to accuse Noel of such a thing is utterly ridiculous.

“Noel is not the assassin,” I say slowly and clearly, wanting there to be no misunderstanding in this.

“How can you possibly be sure? You just met him not all that long ago,” Alaric says. “He comes in, charms you, attempts to sweep you off your feet… It could all be a ploy for –”

“Alaric, so help me. If you say one more word.”

Alaric closes his mouth for a moment. Then opens it again. “We have to face facts, Cara. We don’t really know all that much about him. Everyone is a potential suspect, even him.”

I refuse to believe it. Yes, the timelines could add up, with Noel arriving shortly before all the scary instances began occurring, but he simply cannot be the assassin.

He’s had too many chances to kill or hurt me by now. We had become friends. We hung out a lot, and he often made me meals for us to share together during lunch when he would visit me at the office on my lunchbreak.

If Noel wanted me dead, I would already be dead. What would be the point of drawing it out?

Keeping me confined here because of the assassin’s possible presence, I could understand. Asking me to be more careful made sense too. But accusing Noel outright like this? That’s too much, too far.

Noel is a good man. He deserves better than that kind of accusation.

“I trust him,” I say.

“What has he ever done to earn your trust?” Alaric asks.

“He’s been my friend,” I say. “He hasn’t betrayed me. He hasn’t chosen to break his mate bond to me so that he could marry someone else!” I don’t mean to raise my voice and cover my mouth with my hand, embarrassed now.

I didn’t mean to say those things, to bring up the past between Alaric and me. But this attack on Noel feels weirdly personal, and in the moment, for better or for worse, I felt the need to bring up that Alaric himself has been imperfect in the past.

Maybe Noel has some secrets he doesn’t want me to know. But there are things in my past I don’t want to share with him either.

It’s natural, even with friends, to have our own secrets.

Alaric stands very still, accepting the criticism with a stern face. He doesn’t try to deny it, doesn’t say anything against it at all. In fact, he stays so quiet that I begin to regret everything.

“Alaric…” I say, softening, ready to extend the olive branch.

He glances away from me. “I’m not comfortable with you going out there. We don’t know if someone followed you here, or if someone followed Noel. Since I presume he’s coming to pick you up for breakfast, why not just have him come inside? The chef can make us something that will be much better than the local restaurants anyway.”

Us? Does he mean to join Noel and me for breakfast?

I still think he’s being ridiculous, but his protective nature is exactly why I am here. I have to trust that he isn’t just being jealous and selfish, and that he has very real reasons for me not wanting to leave the house.

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll tell him.”

Ten minutes into the breakfast, and it already feels like a disaster.

When he arrived, Noel tried to shake Alaric’s hand, which he refused. Then, Alaric insisted that Noel sit across the table from me, not beside me, while Alaric sat in the seat between us at the small round table.

Now, Alaric keeps asking Noel questions about his past, Where did you say you were from? Do you have any siblings? What were your parents like?

Noel smoothly avoids all questions, answering only, “My past isn’t a very good memory for me.”

Alaric narrows his eyes, like in his suspicion of Noel, he’s trying to catch Noel in some kind of lie.

“You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to,” I tell Noel, while giving Alaric a pointed look.

Noel glances between us before settling his attention on me. He starts to smile. “It pleases me to hear you come to my defense, Cara. I… I’m not sure what else to say.”

His eyes soften in a way they haven’t before. He’s always held some affection in his gaze, looking at me, but that seems to deepen now, taking on weight.

His attraction to me has always been borne of his connection to me through the mating bond that he alone feels. That is the nature of those bonds. The moon gifts us with a perfect mate, but the feelings of love and affection themselves must grow and cultivate over time.

I wonder if, in my defense of Noel, something has fundamentally changed within him. It feels as if something has shifted, but, as I’m not in his head and I can’t feel the bond as he can, unless he tells me, I won’t know for certain.

Noel smiles at me for a moment, before that expression hardens and he looks at Alaric.

“If there is something you wish to accuse me of, Alaric, I would prefer you do so directly to my face,” Noel says.

Alaric doesn’t hold back. “Are you the assassin?”

“No,” Noel says, as if he’d been expecting that question. “Cara’s life and safety are paramount to me. She might not feel the bond between us as I do, but that does not diminish the way I feel. I am driven to protect her, the same way you are, I suspect. Though, admittedly, I am not Alpha King, and my means of protecting her are more limited than yours.”

“Why should I believe you?” Alaric says. “You must admit that you are a suspicious character. Without knowing anything of your past, you saunter in here claiming to want to protect Cara as I do. But where is the proof? Or are we to take your word?”

“My word would be preferable,” Noel says. “But… I understand your hesitation. I want the best for Cara, too. And that includes the means of her safety.”

“Noel, you don’t have to –” I start to say, but he holds up his hand, cutting me off.

“I will do this for you, Cara. To put your most diligent protector’s mind at ease about me would benefit all of us. Then he can start looking outward rather than inward, and hopefully stop the true assassin’s plot,” Noel says.

“Tell me the truth then,” Alaric says.

“Not the whole truth, perhaps,” Noel says. “As, just as you do not trust in me, I do not trust in you. But I will tell you one truth, so that you can see I am genuine and to help prove my innocence here.”

Alaric waits, and so do I. While I feel this is unnecessary, I won’t stop Noel if this is what he wants to do.

“I will tell you the name of my pack,” Noel says. “Hopefully that will clear the air.”

“We’ll see,” Alaric says.

Noel hesitates a moment, glancing at me. Then he says, “CrimsonFang.”

Alaric pauses, as do I.

The CrimsonFang pack is the most secluded and mysterious of all packs. They value their secrets above all else. A traveler would never claim that pack as their own, knowing they might be hunted both from without and within.

For Noel to share this here is an extreme show of trust.

Alaric seems to come to that conclusion as well. He sits back in his chair. “Very well,” he says, and we proceed with breakfast. The matter of Noel’s past does not come up again.