Azar’s piercing gaze locked onto Noah’s, the dim light of the underground chamber casting shadows that danced across their faces. The air was thick with unspoken tension, the weight of the moment pressing down on them like a physical force. Azar’s voice, low and steady, broke the silence.
“I know you’re different from the other Omegas,” he said, his tone carrying a gravity that made Noah’s breath hitch. “Your strength… it could change everything.”
Noah’s heart pounded in his chest, the words echoing in his mind. He had always known he was different, but hearing it from Azar, was both validating and terrifying. He swallowed hard, his mind racing with the implications of what Azar was suggesting.
“I can’t just sit back and do nothing anymore,” Noah finally said, his voice firm despite the turmoil inside him. “I’ll build a resistance. We’ll take down the Blackthorn Covenant.”
Azar’s lips curved into a faint, approving smile, the kind that sent a shiver down Noah’s spine. “If you need help,” Azar said, his voice softening just enough to make Noah’s pulse quicken, “the Moonshade will stand with you.”
Noah’s eyes widened, a flicker of hope igniting within him. He had expected skepticism, even outright dismissal, but Azar’s offer of support was more than he had dared to hope for. He extended his hand, his fingers trembling slightly as they hovered in the space between them.
Azar’s gaze dropped to Noah’s outstretched hand, and for a moment, he hesitated, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he clasped Noah’s hand in his own. The touch was electric, a jolt of warmth that spread through Noah’s body and left him breathless.
“Together,” Azar said, his voice barely above a whisper, but it carried the weight of a promise.
The bell above the door chimed softly, cutting through the tense silence that had settled between Azar and Noah. Azar’s hand froze mid-air, the hood of his jacket already halfway over his head. His eyes darted to the entrance, and there she was—Clara Wilson, her blonde hair catching the faint light of the shop, her piercing blue eyes scanning the room with an intensity that made Noah’s chest tighten.
“Be careful,” Azar murmured, his voice barely audible as he adjusted his hood, shadowing his face. He shot Noah a quick, meaningful glance before slipping out the back door, leaving Noah to face Clara alone.
Clara’s heels clicked against the wooden floor as she approached, her gaze lingering on the spot where Azar had just been. “Who were you talking to?” she asked, her tone light but laced with something sharper—curiosity, suspicion, or maybe both.
Noah forced a casual smile, though his heart was pounding. “Just an old friend,” he said, shrugging as if it were nothing. But Clara wasn’t buying it. She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied him.
“An old friend?” she repeated, stepping closer. “Funny, I didn’t know you had any friends who wore hoods indoors.”
Noah chuckled, though it sounded forced even to his own ears. “Guess you don’t know everything about me,” he said, trying to keep his tone playful. But Clara wasn’t deterred. She took another step forward, her gaze locked on his, searching for something—truth, maybe, or a crack in his facade.
“You’re a terrible liar, Noah,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. “What are you hiding?”
For a moment, Noah faltered. Her closeness was intoxicating, the faint scent of her perfume wrapping around him like a spell. He could see the flecks of gold in her eyes, the way her lips parted slightly as she waited for his response. He wanted to tell her—everything. But he couldn’t. Not yet.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Nothing,” he said finally, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. “Just catching up with an old acquaintance. Nothing to worry about.”
Clara held his gaze for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, to his surprise, she smiled—a small, knowing smile that sent a shiver down his spine. “Alright,” she said, stepping back. “But if that ‘acquaintance’ comes around again, I’d like to meet them.”
Noah nodded, relief flooding through him. “Deal,” he said, though he knew it was a promise he might not be able to keep.
Clara sat at the bar, her fingers tracing the rim of her empty coffee cup. The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the café windows, casting a warm glow on the polished wood. Noah stood behind the counter, his hands moving with practiced ease as he prepared her drink. The air between them was thick with something unspoken, a tension that neither of them dared to address directly.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” Clara said suddenly, her voice soft but piercing. She tilted her head, studying him with those keen eyes that always seemed to see too much.
Noah’s hand stilled for a fraction of a second, the coffee grounds spilling slightly onto the counter. He glanced up, meeting her gaze, and offered a faint smile. “Just tired, I guess. Long nights.”
Clara leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on the bar. “You know, if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.” Her tone was casual, but there was a weight to her words that made his chest tighten.
Noah hesitated, his fingers tapping lightly against the counter. “Thanks,” he said finally, his voice low. He turned back to the coffee machine, but his movements were slower now, more deliberate. “It’s just… things have been complicated.”
Clara’s eyes softened. “Life usually is.” She reached out, her fingers brushing against his as he handed her the cup. The touch was brief, almost accidental, but it sent a jolt through both of them.
Noah’s breath hitched, and he quickly pulled his hand back, clearing his throat. “Careful, it’s hot,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.
Clara smirked, lifting the cup to her lips. “I can handle it,” she said, her tone teasing. She took a sip, her eyes never leaving his. “You’re not the only one who’s tough, you know.”
Noah chuckled, the sound warm but tinged with something else—something raw. “I never doubted it,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
For a moment, they just looked at each other, the silence heavy with unspoken words. Clara’s heart raced, her fingers tightening around the cup. She wanted to say more, to ask him what was really bothering him, but the words stuck in her throat.
Noah broke the gaze first, turning to wipe down the counter. “You should try the new pastry,” he said, his tone lighter now, though the tension still lingered. “It’s got this caramel glaze that’s… addictive.”
Clara raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smile. “Addictive, huh? Sounds dangerous.”
Noah glanced at her, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “Maybe. But aren’t the best things in life always a little dangerous?”
Clara laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. “I’ll take your word for it,” she said, her eyes sparkling.
As she took another sip of her coffee, Noah couldn’t help but watch her, his chest aching with something he couldn’t quite name. The distance between them felt both vast and impossibly small, and for the first time in weeks, he felt a flicker of hope.