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“Noah, the internet’s down again, in the alpha residence and in here,” Karen said as he walked in the door.

He blinked when he saw the receptionist standing there. Hands on hips, brows jerked down, and the all too familiar sound to her voice. She’s frustrated , he thought.

“I need to get these payments out,” Kelly said as she emerged from her office, a sheaf of papers in her hands. “What’s the ETA, Noah?”

“There were also these calls,” Karen said, picking up a pile of sticky notes. “Phyllis, Nadine… A whole bunch are saying they’re having some difficulties with their streaming services. Some say they can’t connect, others are saying they can’t access the content they want.”

“That will need to wait,” Kelly said. “If I don’t get these payments out, the transport and logistics guys are going to have to go out tomorrow instead of today to pick up our orders…”

Each of their requests were like a shove to Noah’s chest. They pushed and they pushed and then they fought with each other about who was going to push next.

He blinked, trying to identify the many shifting expressions on their faces, but they just kept on changing.

Their words got louder and faster, and his usually lightning fast mind stopped being able to process them.

Instead, his heart began to race, the rapid skittering beat drowning everything else out, right when he needed to listen the closest. He tried to stop what he knew was coming.

Flick, the walk to work, the ticking clock, Kade, Flick’s cunning fingers, the pile of sticky notes being waved around now, Karen and Kelly.

Take a deep breath , he told himself. Do it before ? —

“Are you OK, Noah?”

Ophelia’s voice cut through the cyclone spinning inside him, holding it back for a second, but not stopping it.

Her grey eyes found his, and he was somewhat relieved when he couldn’t look away.

Too much eye contact was hard, made his skin itch and his legs want to run away, but you couldn’t do anything when the alpha’s gaze held yours.

She took everything away, the voices, the sounds, the demands.

“Just breathe, Noah,” she said, her voice soft, but still containing that steely core that had him doing what she said without question.

His lungs obeyed, breathing in, subconsciously holding it for three seconds, then letting it out for five.

She watched him do this several times before nodding.

“Good, good…” Those scary grey eyes swivelled around to the women clustered in the office.

“Did I or did I not talk to you about logging all IT requests?”

“Yes, but—” Kelly said, but Ophelia silenced her with a shake of her head.

“No buts.” She surveyed both women, and they didn’t look pleased. “Noah has the right to sort through his workload and identify what is of the highest priority based on the criteria he and I have identified.”

“Well, that better include getting the internet up and running, or this latest batch of orders will be delayed. No payment, no orders,” Kelly shot back, her eyes flashing green.

“Ring the suppliers and make payments over the phone using the credit card,” Ophelia replied. “It’s how we did it beforehand.” Her daughter blinked, as if remembering something from some time ago, then nodded.

“Phyllis…” Karen began lamely, but Ophelia just took one look at the sticky notes and gave the girl a damning look.

“I will deal with Phyllis. You will log these in our job system. And stop bothering Noah with messages. We spoke about this, Karen.”

The receptionist sat back down, eyes lowering to her computer screen, but her mulish expression set Noah’s teeth on edge.

“Now that’s sorted,” Ophelia said, “let's talk in your office. I was on my way to check in with you.”

You were?

He didn’t say the words out loud, learning when young not to do that when he around the matriarchs, but those grey eyes saw everything. She put a hand on his arm, something he had to fight to not shake off, and then ushered him into his office.

“Ah, can I get you a drink?” he asked, looking around at the mess with concern.

The woman picked up the old hard drive and part of a computer cabinet he had sitting on the spare chair, cocking an eyebrow as if to ask where it should go.

He pointed a finger at the crowded cabinet on the left-hand side of the room, already groaning with parts.

It was so difficult to get the right gear at short notice, he tended to keep everything, just in case, all meticulously arranged in a system that was completely incomprehensible to anyone else.

She started to slot it in on top of some other parts, so he rushed over, taking it from her and putting the pieces on top of the shelving.

“I don’t need a drink, Noah, but thank you for asking,” she said, settling into the chair now. She waited for him to do the same and asked, “So how are things going with Flick?”

“Uh…” His tongue froze in his mouth as a vivid flashback of this morning played out. He’d worked hard to calm himself on the walk over here, but now… He took a long breath in, holding it, holding it as Flick, her scent, the feel of her washed over him.

“Breathe out, Noah,” Ophelia said, cutting through his reverie.

He did so, letting it all out with a noisy rush, but the usual calm that came from doing his breathing exercises didn’t come.

He felt rubbed raw, his skin flayed, his nerves exposed and aching.

He shifted, his fingers shifting rapidly, touching his pointer finger, then his little finger with his thumb, over and over.

“I’ve upset you,” she said. “I’m sorry. Why don’t we sit here for a moment. I won’t ask any questions. Just sit.”

He couldn’t reply. When he tried, his voice box seized, and he felt like he was choking on the words.

Heaps filled his mouth, ready to be said, but he wouldn’t let any of them get free.

To say… To tell… No future, not yet , he told himself.

So, he just did as he was asked, sitting there mutely and staring at the black screens of his monitors, knowing that the work would just be piling up and piling up as he was forced to?—

As if to provide further evidence to support his fears, the phone rang.

His eyes jerked to the device, the loud noise demanding his attention.

Now, now, now, he needed to answer it now.

He’d let it ring in the past, when particularly engrossed in solving a problem with one of the office machines, learning the error of his ways when Phyllis and her cronies came marching down to the office, insisting to be seen.

Karen had tried to stop them from bursting in, maybe not all that hard, and in they’d come.

So loud, filling the room with their expectations and the threats to back them up if he had thought for a minute about brushing them off.

His hand went to pick it up, but Ophelia shook her head.

She reached over and plucked the receiver from the cradle, picking it up and pressing the button to end the call before leaving it off the hook

“You’re feeling dysregulated,” she said.

The word was like a slap to his face. Essentially meaningless to him, it was the one his teachers used, his mum used, the matriarchs used, but he never really got the pattern.

Sometimes, it was used when he was a kid, raging at the world, after he’d been pushed and pushed and pushed.

The adults had come in at the aftermath, shaking their heads and tutting to themselves and slapped that word on.

Other times, it was when he was tapping his feet or moving his fingers.

He took a deep breath and stilled his hands, even when he didn’t want to.

“I’m doing the best I can, Ophelia,” he said when he could trust his voice to be steady. “I look after Flick and Kade, the pack. I focus on the day to day. I…” His eyes flicked up to meet his alpha’s. “I love her, and I show her every day in every way I can think how much I care about her.”

Ophelia nodded slowly.

“But that’s hard work.”

That felt like a punch in the gut. Was it effortless for the others?

Did they just know what they had to do, without all the schedules and pre-preparation?

Did the rest of the pack just wander around, relying on instinct to get them through every interaction with their mate?

He blinked as he considered that possibility and felt like the floor had been ripped out from under him.

They are them. We are us , his Tirian said to him. She is happy. We make her happy.

And right now, that needed to be enough.

“Everything’s hard work, alpha,” he said. His sharp tone made him wince instinctively, but he forged on. “Every damn breath is hard. I…I don’t fit, and I’m reminded of that in a million different ways every day.”

“But with Flick’s pack?”

Her eyes were always razor sharp, so why did it feel like they grew keener as she waited for his answer?

He was an odd peg, and the matriarchs, they wanted to find a home for all of them.

He’d seen that often enough. Because the alternative?

Exile from the community, from their home, from their family.

That was never going to happen to him, his mother had made sure.

“They’ll send you through the damn gate, Noah!”