Into Their Woods (The Eerie, #1)(22)

Fife pulls my office door open to reveal a woman standing behind him.

I freeze when my gaze lands on a pair of familiar greenish-blue eyes. Confusion crashes through me as I take in the soft skin, long eyelashes, dark brows, and lush lips of…my mate.

Her eyes widen when she sees me, her pupils dilating in a promising way. But there’s a strain and worry etched in her features. She looks pale, and she’s dressed in clothes that are far too big for her and smell like my den brothers.

What the hell is she doing here? She shouldn’t even be awake yet.

Fife moves further into my office, motioning for her to follow him. I look past her, expecting to see Ruger or Perth, but neither are with her.

The back of my neck starts to prickle.

“Sheriff, this is Noah Lupescu,” Fife provides in a hushed, hesitant tone as he studies the confused look stamped across my face.

No.

My stomach drops. Her name and Fife’s prior statement swirl together with the force of static electricity and explode like thunder inside my chest. The opposing revelations mess with the frenetic scale of my emotions. Tender joy at hearing her name. Noah. Accompanied by a whirlwind of fury because someone hurt her.

Assault and kidnapping—that’s what Fife said.

I bite back the sudden snarl that tries to claw its way up my throat.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears and I close my eyes for a millisecond so that I can control the livid wrath writhing inside me.

When I open my eyes again, she’s still standing there, hurt and vulnerable. It’s heartbreaking.

Fife motions for her to sit down, but I can’t seem to make my feet move because a war has been unleashed inside of me. My wolf howls for blood, demanding that I hunt down and attack any and every threat. My neck burns as my entire face grows hot with the need to shift and protect her.

Questions rush me as I temper my emotions. Is she okay? Are my brothers okay? Were they attacked?

I try to quiet the cacophony in my mind and slow the rapid pounding of my heart using a breathing technique that Perth swears by. It takes a few deep breaths before the raging alpha energy inside of me is reined in enough to let me absorb what Fife is saying to my mate.

“Sheriff Arcan will take care of you. Just tell him exactly what you told me,” he encourages, and Noah nods once and threads her fingers together before setting her hands over her right leg.

She looks so small, so fragile. I battle the urge to scoop her up and pull her into my lap so that I can soothe the line of worry currently marring her brow. Every wolf-driven instinct riding me morphs from vicious outrage to careful protector in zero point two seconds. I want to wrap my arms around her, nuzzle her neck, and assure her that everything will be okay.

Instead, I pull in a deep inhale of her scent and use it to ground myself. I need to make sure that I don’t do anything right now that could traumatize her further. And I don’t want her to shut down. I need answers and she needs to know that she’s safe, that her mates will never let anything bad happen to her again.

I force my feet to move, striding around the desk and taking my seat. I’ve never had to fight this hard to maintain calm composure in my life.

Fife walks out the door and shuts it behind him, but not before he shoots me a worried glance, one that lets me know he’ll be nearby if I need him.

I fucking might. Depending on the words that come out of Noah’s mouth, I might.

“Are you okay?” I ask Noah as I settle in my seat and scan her for any injuries. Thank god I don’t see anything, or my simmering protective anger might make me shift into my wolf despite myself.

I breathe deeply again and feel immediately calmer when I catch little hints of Ruger and Gannon’s scents, with an undertone of Perth, mixing with hers. I don’t smell any blood or other wolves, which baffles me even more.

If she smells like my denmates, who could have hurt her?

“Yes? No? I don’t even know,” she answers, sighing before she slightly slumps in her chair like the weight of what’s on her mind is too much to bear.

“Can I get you anything?” I ask, the need to fix whatever has gone wrong pressing hard against my sternum. “There’s an award-winning breakfast casserole in the break room, or maybe a cup of coffee? Full disclosure. Bucky made the coffee, and it sucks,” I add, trying to lighten the tension radiating off of her.

Noah worries her bottom lip, her eyes nervously darting from me to her hands. “I stole a car,” she blurts in answer, a flash of shock flickering through her gaze before her eyes jump back to mine nervously. “I didn’t do it on purpose, I mean, I did take it, but it’s not because I’m a criminal. I had no choice. I had to escape,” she rushes to add.

A flush rises in her cheeks as confusion settles over me.

Escape?

“I stopped in town last night for dinner…and some coffee,” Noah goes on, and I find myself leaning toward her without making the conscious decision to do so. “The next thing I know, I was attacked in the parking lot outside of the diner and woke up in the forest wearing a red cloak and nothing else. Or at least, I think that’s what happened. It’s possible I’ve been drugged and the whole thing was some vivid hallucination.”

Noah reaches down and rubs absently at her calf through a pair of sweatpants. My gaze follows the movement as I study the frustration and puzzlement in her eyes.