Chapter 128 My Angel | 021
NOELLE
“Before I say anything," Jake starts, "I apologize. On behalf of my alpha. He should've believed you the second you opened your mouth. He's not himself right now, and that's on us—on me—for not seeing it sooner."
I blink, trying to stay calm. We’re on the stairs, our voices low.
Jake drags a hand through his hair, exhaling hard. "I've suspected Sabrina for months. There are too many things that don't make sense.”
He glances towards the upper landing, then back at me.
"She's not a werewolf. I suspect that much. I think she's also keeping Azren dependent, making sure he stays foggy. She wants what you have now."
My pulse roars in my ears. "You're saying she's... jealous?"
"I'm saying she's obsessed," he corrects. "And dangerous. She's already tried to kill you once. She'll do it again if we don't stop her first."
I wrap my arms around myself. "Why tell me now?"
"Because you're the only one she can't control." Jake's eyes lock on mine. "You're still fighting, even after the hell you went through. That resilience? It's rare. Azren needs it. The pack needs it. I need it. I can't expose her alone. She's too deep in his head. But you... you're the crack in her spell. Team up with me."
I stare at him, my chest tight. Part of me wants to run and pretend I didn't hear anything he just said. But how can I forget Sabrina's threat?
So, I take a deep breath. "Okay. What do we do?"
"Our first mission is to expose her true nature in front of Azren," he tells me, and I nod in agreement.
The rest of breakfast passes in a blur of Levi's relentless teasing and Jake's half-hearted attempts to rein him in. I had briefly returned to the bedroom earlier to shower and change before coming back downstairs, careful not to wake Azren up.
Levi, Azren's younger brother, turns out to be a walking chaos machine.
Jake keeps rolling his eyes and calling him "pup", but there's real affection between them. For the first time in days, I laughed aloud.
I slip back upstairs feeling lighter than I have in weeks, the taste of scrambled eggs still on my tongue. The bedroom door is ajar when I reach it.
I push inside quietly, half-expecting to find Azren still sprawled across the mattress, one arm flung over his eyes, looking unfairly beautiful even in his sleep.
The bed is empty. The sheets are rumpled and the pillow dented. But there's no Azren.
I frown and glance towards the bathroom. The door is closed, but I hear his voice. It is low and strained.
"...out of the market? You're joking. I don't care what it takes. Find it. I need my fix before tonight."
A growl rumbles after the words, frustrated and raw. My stomach drops.
I take a hesitant step towards the bathroom, but the voice shifts direction. It's coming from the walk-in closet instead.
The door is cracked open. I stop just outside, my heart thudding too loud in my ears.
"...told you it's not that simple anymore," Azren mutters. "The usual guy got spooked after the last raid. He said the new shit's too hot to move. I don't have time for this."
He lets out another growl that's more animal than man.
I should walk away and pretend I didn't hear anything. But my feet won't move.
The closet door swings open, and Azren steps out.
He's shirtless, his sweatpants dangerously low. But something's wrong. His movements are sluggish, almost lazy.
And his eyes...
There's a strange sparkle in them. They aren't the warm blue I'm used to. They're glittering with a manic gleam.
He sees me and stops right away. For a moment, we just stare at each other.
Then he stretches, rolling his shoulders like a cat waking up from a nap. He drags one hand through his hair, letting it fall messily over his forehead, and flashes me a grin that looks like trouble.
"Well, well," he drawls, his voice lower and rougher than usual, laced with that dangerous, glittering amusement. "Morning, Angel."
My mouth goes dry. "What... what was that call about?"
He tilts his head, his eyes sparkling brighter. "Nosy little thing, aren't you?"
He takes one slow, prowling step towards me. "Just business, sweetheart. Boring, adult, not-very-fun business."
I swallow hard. "Are you... are you on something?"
He freezes just for a second.
Then he throws his head back and lets out an unhinged laugh.
He glances towards the far corner of the room—at nothing—and speaks to the empty air as if an old friend just told a killer joke.
"She's asking if I'm an addict," he says, delighted.
"Isn't that precious? My sweet little wife thinks I'm shooting up in the closet like some tragic rockstar."
He stretches again, lazier this time, his arms above his head, his back arching so every muscle in his torso pulls tight. The motion is shameless and teasing. He knows exactly what he's doing. And he fucking knows he looks too hot like this.
He drops his arms and takes another step closer. I take one step back.
He stops and frowns. The manic sparkle sharpens into a wounded expression.
"Why are you backing away?" His voice dips, suddenly soft and dangerous. "Didn't you say you'd stay by my side? Madness and all?"
My heart slams against my ribs.
"I—"
He sighs dramatically, brushing his hair away from his forehead with an exaggerated diva flick.
"Can't handle the real me?" he asks, his lips curving into a pout that should be ridiculous but somehow looks obscene on him. "Boring."
Before I can respond, he turns on his heel, strides into the bathroom, and slams the door behind him.
I flinch so hard my back hits the wall.
For a long moment I just stand there, breathing hard and staring at the closed door.
My thighs are clenched so tight I can feel the ache between them.
Holy shit. I'm terrified. Yet, I'm stupidly, shamefully turned on.
I press my palm to my chest, trying to slow my heart.
I am so screwed.
...
I'm nervous. The time is currently thirty minutes past six. I'm supposed to leave with Azren soon for dinner. I'm in a short purple flared dress with long flared sleeves. It's sparkly with black butterfly imprints. It's one of the clothes Azren made his sister get for me. Along with the platform heels, I look like I belong on Pinterest.
"Angel, are you ready?" Azren calls out from the hallway, and I let out a shaky breath.
"Y-yeah."
"Come on out, baby. Strut for me," he says, and I blush.
He hasn't even seen me yet. Grabbing my purse, I step out slowly. Azren's standing there looking unfairly hot in his suede purple jacket, white shirt, black tie, and stylish loose dark pants. An unlit cigarette is perched between his lips.
He's just holding it there, rolling it slowly between his teeth while he watches me.
His eyes rake over me hungrily. Then he exhales a low, appreciative whistle through his teeth.
"Fuck me," he mutters, more to himself than to me. "Are you trying to kill me before dinner even starts?"
My cheeks heat up instantly.
He pushes off the wall in one easy motion, still sluggish from whatever storm is churning inside him. He circles me, his eyes glittering with that manic, playful edge that makes my stomach flip.
"Twirl for me, baby," he drawls, his voice husky and teasing. "Let Daddy see the full view."
I should roll my eyes and tell him to behave. Instead, my body betrays me.
I spin, feeling the dress flare out around my thighs, the long sleeves fluttering like dark wings. The platform heels make me feel taller, bolder, and reckless.
When I stop, he's right in front of me again. Closer than he was before.
"Goddamn," he breathes, dragging the word out like it hurts. He reaches up and tucks one loose strand behind my ear, his thumb lingering on my cheekbone. "You're so fucking pretty it's offensive."
I giggle like a lovesick idiot.
He groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating straight down my spine.
"Don't do that," he mutters, nearly pleading. "Don't fucking giggle like that when I'm already losing my mind."
But his dimples flash, and he catches my hand, spinning me again. I laugh harder, the hallway blurring around us.
He pulls me in on the second spin, chest to chest, one arm wrapping around my waist, the other sliding up to cradle the back of my neck.
Then he consumes me with his lips, stealing my breath away.
When he finally pulls back, we're both panting.
He doesn't let go.
He only reaches into his pocket, pulls out a sleek black tube of lip balm and uncaps it with his teeth.
"Hold still," he murmurs.
He drags the balm over my swollen bottom lip, then the top. His thumb follows the path, smearing it in, pressing just enough that I feel it everywhere.
My breath hitches.
A slow, wicked smile curls his mouth.
"You're so responsive it's unfair," he whispers, leaning in until his lips brush my ear. "Makes me want to see how many times I can make you come before we even leave the house."
I groan, and he chuckles, delighted.
Then he pulls back just enough to look at me properly.
"Go on a date with me, Angel." His voice is softer now, almost shy underneath all the crazy glitter. "With Azren. Not the alpha. Not the tribrid. Just... me."
I arch a brow, trying to keep my voice steady even though my knees are jelly. “Are you... possessed again?"
He laughs softly.
"He might be, Noelle. Don’t be so reckless. Alpha, it’s time for your next dosage,” a familiar voice utters behind us.
Sabrina again. Damnit. When did she even get here?
“Not tonight,” Azren says, and she freezes.
“W-what? You can’t mean that!”