Alpha Noah

~Abella

The persistent nudge of paper against my cheek wakes me.

Blearily, I blink my eyes open until I can fully see. I slept like a baby last night. After my meeting with Noah that morning, I worked all day with a genuine smile on my face, which is a change from my usual attitude. Noah didn’t mention anything about my promotion, but I’m sure I’ll start by next week. It might not be such a good idea to spend more time around him…

The smell of flowers reminds me of what woke me in the first place. Glancing to my right, I notice a small envelope sitting neatly on my pillow. Sitting up, I see my name scrawled onto the blush pink paper, that glimmers which each turn of the light.

Peeling it open, my mind wanders. Who could this be from? I’m convinced it’s Noah, thanking me for our nice walk last night.

Instead, I see it’s sent from Cian, my mate.

Abella.Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.

I somehow get the feeling you have no interest in having a further conversation about our relationship. We are mates. I know this isn’t what you expected, nor wanted, but I believe talking about this together will help you come to terms with this much easier. Understandably, this is hard, but I promise I can make this all worth it for you.

Call me whenever you please, and I will be there as soon as possible. I will be patiently waiting, my love.

Cian.

Loosening a breath, I place the note back down on my side table. As much as it pains me to admit it, I know he is right, in that I have to face this issue as soon as possible. I make a mental note to call him and agree to sit down with him. But for now, I need to go to work and pray my life can resume as normal. No Immortals, no Alpha’s.

This mentality didn’t last for long.

By the end of the week, thoughts began to plague my head, the I decided I needed to act upon. Noah’s words in the garden did not pass me by. He offered for me to come visit him, to keep him company in his rather lonely life. It’s been a tempting offer that I haven’t been able to stop considering. I want to see him again, disguising my intentions behind a hope to find out more information on my promotion.

I decide tonight, at the end of my working week, to go visit him. Tomorrow, I will face Cian. For now, I’m hoping maybe Noah will be able to give me advice on what to do. If I call Sam, I already know what she would say. She already believes I’ve been blessed, despite my contradictory thoughts.

Tonight, I’m walking in through the front entrance, rather than the back. Noah truly does have a beautiful home, with magnificent pale pillars leading up to the front door, two lines of separate pool like features filled with glittering emerald water right by my feet as I walk.

I can’t help but wonder why he keeps everything so immaculate in his life. Perfection, it seems.

The front door is large and looming, but I don’t let that intimidate me. Knocking on the door, I want a few moments for someone to come and answer. Except no one does.

Knocking again, I wait a few more moments before considering whether I should go in or not. Surely, he isn’t home. I remember him mention how the little staff he has, and how they don’t stick around at night, when he prefers his privacy. He must be inside his large manor, and can’t hear me knocking on the front door. Maybe I should come back tomorrow.

Just as I was about to turn away, the door opens. Much to my surprise, it’s an unfamiliar man, who frowns at me. Suddenly, I feel like a criminal. Why did I think it would be okay for me to come here at this time of night to speak to Noah, as if him and I are friends? We haven’t known each other for more than a few weeks.

“Who are you?” the man demands. He’s short, slightly round around the hips, with a dubious expression on his face. I haven’t seen him on the lower level off this building where I work, so he must have a higher up job than me.

“I’m Abella. I’m here to see Noah if I can,” I say warily.

They blink a few times, before sighing deeply, opening the door wider. The invitation in is the last things I expected, fully believing he was going to tell me to leave.

“He’s upstairs. Find him yourself,” the man mumbles, taking my previous place outside the door. I realise then, that he has a satchel over his shoulder, clearly clocking off of work for the day. He casts me one more glance, before he closes the door behind him and leaves. I’m left standing in the middle of a foyer, unsure of what to do next.

The house is drenched in silence. I’m hardly noticing everything around me, and all the wonder I would otherwise feel at the lavish lifestyle I’m witnessing him live. Despite being so openly invited in, with Noah’s own words a backup to this, I’m still apprehensive about being here.

“Noah?” I call out, my voice echoing against the high ceiling. I’m hoping Noah will walk down the stairs, and end the anxiety I feel standing in this empty manor.

I shouldn’t even be up here.

After receiving no response, I decide to wander up the stairs to if I can find any sign of life. I’m not sure how Noah deals with such solitude. No wonder he wanted me to come visit him; this entire place, as beautiful as it is, is depressing. As I move up the stairs, I try shake off the uneasy feeling that plagues me. It’s telling me to walk up these stairs.

The top of the stairs splits off into different hallways. Taking the left one, I wander down, continuing to call out for Noah, hoping I’m not about to stumble into him in a position I don’t want to witness. I’m pretending I’m here to ask him about my promotion, when really, I just want to talk to him.

Eventually, I pass enough doors that I decide I need to enter one. I knock first, then again. With no response, I slowly open the unlocked door, peeking my head in.

It’s an office.

Somewhat disappointed it’s empty, I go to close the door, before something catches my eye. A draw from the desk is not only open and exposed, but placed on the ground, paper’s spilling from it. I eye it, my throat going dry. I’m not sure how this is happened, or why there are papers scattered across this room, but I can’t help myself as I step inside the room, softly closing the door behind me.

Kneeling down, I pick up and turn over a few of the jumbled pieces of paper, but quickly drop them down again.

The breath has been completely knocked out of my lung.

My hands shake, I gently touch the surface of the paper. These are drawings from both dark ink and charcoal. Not much of it makes sense, but I know this is a reflection of some purely dark thoughts. Strangely, I feel drawn to what is being portrayed. Dark faces, twisted expression. Pain. Torture. Whoever this has come from, they clearly are going through something completely unimaginable.

Another paper shows rows upon rows of writing, in a dialect I’ve never seen before. Taking a few pictures, I fold them up and tuck them into my back pocket. Perhaps this is stealing, but I need more time to look over these properly.

The question is, did Noah do this?

Standing, I turn around, to see someone staring at me in the doorway. It’s Noah’s assistant, Gia. I would know those sharp brown eyes and pressing gaze anywhere. She doesn’t look angry, though. Instead, she has a tight smile plastered across her face. Great, now I’m going to lose my chance to work for her, and earn a bit more money. All because my curiosity got the best of me.

“I’m so glad you’re here. It’s a shame you have to go,” she says. Her voice is almost deafeningly loud. I frown, not exactly sure what she is talking about.

“Huh-“

“Like I told you, Noah is busy. Maybe come and see me and I’ll send him a message on your next day of work,” she tells me. Blinking a few times, I attempt to decipher what her face is telling me, because what is coming out of her mouth makes no sense whatsoever.

Her hands are clasped together in front of her. She stares at me, unblinking, smiling, but her eyes deceive her. She looks frightened, as if me standing her is putting her in immense anger. A bead of sweat trails down her temple. This isn’t normal. We are being listened to, or she is being threatened. Either way, I need to get out of here right now.

“Thank you, Gia,” I say, unable to stop my shaky voice.

She swallows, nodding curtly, before she leads me back downstairs. We don’t exchange anymore words. I’m so unbelievably shaken and frightened, I’m unsure of what to think, let alone say.

Gia holds the door open for me, letting me walk out on my own fruition. Before I have a chance to walk away, she grabs her arms, nails digging into my skin so tightly, I can’t help but yelp. She pulls me close to her body, the scent of her cloying perfume turning my stomach over.

“Go see your mate. Never come back here. This isn’t the life you want,” she mutters in my ear, before pushing me violently away.

I have no time to think, as she closes the door in my face, sealing away the mystery I’m unsure I will get an answer to.