Chapter 120: Chapter 120
"I have friends."
The way he said it—like he’d just discovered gravity or something equally mind-blowing—made me smile. "Yeah, you do."
"I don’t know how to have friends, Sophie. I was raised to keep everyone at a distance. Alphas don’t have friends, they have subordinates and packmates, and—"
"Christian." I took his hands. "You need this. Being alpha doesn’t mean being alone."
"What if I mess it up?"
"Then you apologize and try again. That’s what friends do." I squeezed his fingers. "Marcus and Connor care about you. Not Alpha Christian. Just... Christian."
His eyes got that bright look they got when he was trying not to cry. "I told them about my father. About the training."
"I know. I accidentally overheard."
"I’ve never told anyone that before. Except you."
"How did it feel?"
Christian thought about it. "Scary. But also... lighter? Like sharing it made it smaller somehow."
"That’s what friends do," I said softly. "They carry pieces of your pain so you don’t have to hold it all alone."
Christian pulled me close, burying his face in my neck. We sat like that for a while, just breathing together.
The hunting trip was Marcus’s idea.
"Just us guys," Marcus said the following Wednesday, tossing a bottle cap at Connor, who caught it without looking up from his tablet. "No pack duties, no formal alpha shit. Just hunting, camping, and terrible decisions."
"I don’t make terrible decisions," Connor protested.
"You brought a tablet camping last time."
"It was waterproof!"
Christian glanced at me. I was curled up in his desk chair, supposedly reading but actually watching them interact.
"Diana can handle things for a weekend," I said before Christian could make excuses. "Go. Have fun. Bond over... whatever guys bond over."
"Killing things and drinking beer," Marcus supplied helpfully.
"Perfect. Very manly."
Christian still looked uncertain. The alpha, who’d single-handedly defended our territory and who’d faced down rogues and hostile packs, was nervous about a camping trip with his friends.
"Go," I said firmly. "That’s an order from your Luna."
Marcus grinned. "She outranks you, man."
"Technically—" Connor started.
"Don’t ruin this with facts," Marcus interrupted.
Christian laughed. Actually laughed. "Okay. Fine. Let’s do it."
Friday morning, I helped Christian pack while he stressed about everything.
"What if something happens while I’m gone?"
"Diana will handle it."
"What if there’s a challenge or—"
"There won’t be."
"What if I forget how to just... hang out with people?"
I stopped folding his spare shirt and turned to face him. "Christian. Stop being Alpha Christian for two days. Just be Christian. The guy who laughs at Marcus’s terrible jokes and listens to Connor ramble about statistics. That guy."
"I don’t know if I remember how to be that guy."
"Then go figure it out."
A truck horn honked outside. Marcus, no doubt, because Connor would never honk—Connor would send a polite text.
Christian grabbed his bag, kissed me hard enough to make me dizzy, and headed downstairs. I watched from the window as Marcus’s truck pulled away, Christian in the passenger seat looking nervous and excited and young.
Diana appeared beside me. "Twenty bucks says they come back with at least one injury."
"Thirty says Connor’s tablet doesn’t survive."
"Deal."
The pack house felt weirdly quiet without Christian. I’d gotten used to his constant presence—in meetings, in training, and in our room. His alpha energy was such a permanent fixture that his absence left this strange empty space.
"It’s good for him," Diana said over dinner that night. We’d ordered takeout and were eating in the pack dining room with Eleanor and a few others. "Christian needs to remember he’s a person, not just an alpha."
"His father really did a number on him," Eleanor said sadly. "I remember when Christian was young. Such a sweet boy. Then Karl started that horrible training regimen..."
"He’s healing," I said, touching the mate bond. Christian’s emotions came through faintly—contentment, nervousness, a flicker of joy. "Slowly. But he’s getting there."
Diana raised her glass. "To Christian figuring out how to have friends."
We all drank to that.
Christian came back Sunday evening.
I heard the truck pull up and went to the door, expecting to see my usual alpha—composed, controlled, proper.
Instead, Christian practically bounced out of Marcus’s truck. His hair was a mess. He had dirt on his face. His clothes smelled like campfire smoke and pine needles.
And he was *grinning*.
Not the polite alpha smile. Not the soft smile he saved for me. A full, genuine, lit-up-from-the-inside grin.
"Sophie!" He picked me up and spun me around like I weighed nothing. "We got a deer! Well, Marcus and I got a deer. Connor provided ’tactical support.’"
"I analyzed the optimal hunting location," Connor protested, climbing out of the truck with his tablet—which had a new crack across the screen. Ha. Diana owed me thirty bucks.
"How was it?" I asked Christian.
"Amazing. Terrible. Perfect." Christian set me down but kept his arms around my waist. "Marcus almost set the tent on fire. Connor’s tracking algorithm actually worked. I haven’t slept on the ground in years, and my back is killing me, and I want to do it again next month."
I stared at him. This man—rumpled, enthusiastic, *happy*—was almost unrecognizable from the controlled alpha I’d met months ago.
"I like this version of you," I said softly.
Christian’s grin softened into something tender. "You were right. I needed this."
Marcus and Connor were unpacking gear from the truck, arguing about proper equipment storage. Christian watched them with obvious affection.
"They’re my friends," Christian said, like he was testing the words. "I have friends, Sophie."
"Yeah, you do."
"I told them—" Christian stopped, swallowing hard. "I told them what their friendship means to me. How lonely I was before. How I thought alphas couldn’t have friends. And they just... they understood."
His eyes were bright again. Happy-crying bright, not sad-crying bright.
"Marcus said friendship doesn’t make you weak. It makes you stronger because you’re not carrying everything alone." Christian pulled me closer. "Connor said they’re lucky to have me as a friend too. Not as their alpha. As their friend."
"They’re right."
Christian kissed my forehead, my cheeks, my lips. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For pushing me to do this. For seeing what I needed before I knew I needed it. For—"
His phone buzzed. Then Diana’s phone. Then mine.
We all pulled out our phones at the same time.
The message was from an unknown number:
*Alpha Christian, this is Alpha Karl from Northern Ridge. We have a situation. Isabelle collapsed during training. She’s stable, but Catherine needs Sophie’s help. Can you come back? It’s urgent.*
Christian’s expression shifted instantly—playful friend to serious alpha in half a second.
"We need to go," he said. "Now."
"I’ll drive," Marcus called, already moving toward the truck.
Connor was pulling up maps on his cracked tablet.
And me? I was already running for the pack house to grab supplies, my mind racing through everything I’d taught Isabelle about energy control.
*Please let her be okay. Please.*
