Chapter 65

Noah stared at me for a moment over my handmaid's shoulder, who thankfully made no move to betray me. Finally, checking his watch, he stepped back. "Fine. Just hurry." He turned and disappeared. My handmaid quickly shut the door, scurrying to the closet to choose an outfit for me.

While she did so, I returned to the bathroom, feeling utterly drained. After splashing cool water on my face and applying a touch of makeup to mask my pallor, I put on the simple knit dress and boots she'd selected. It wasn't much, but it would suffice.

By the time I reached the foyer, Noah stood waiting, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. He glanced up as I approached, his eyes sweeping over me before he scowled at his watch. "Good, you're finally ready," he huffed, heading for the door. "I almost left without you."

I swallowed the lump of dejection in my throat, biting back a retort. If only he knew what I was enduring... but I couldn't tell him before the divorce. Not yet. Maybe never.

An uncomfortable silence filled the drive to the orphanage, Noah's jaw tight with tension. Upon arrival, I was eager to escape the car. However, as the driver stopped the engine, children swarmed around the building, giggling and shrieking. I was surprised as they approached, each wearing a colorful paper crown.

Then, a kind-faced woman—the orphanage director, I presumed—followed, carrying two larger crowns. "Luna Hannah, Alpha Noah, welcome!" she greeted warmly. "The children made these hats for you. Of course, you don't have to wear them."

Before Noah could refuse, I vehemently shook my head. "Nonsense!" Bending down, I let two girls place crowns on my head, then scooped up a small child. She shrieked happily, her fingers immediately tangling in my hair. "Well, aren't you just the sweetest little thing!" I cooed, tickling her until she laughed.

Looking up, still holding the child, I saw Noah staring with an indecipherable expression, his crown dangling forgotten.

An impish grin touched my lips. I jerked my chin toward his head. "Aren't you going to put yours on, Alpha Noah? I think it would be rude not to." I narrowed my eyes slightly—a warning.

All eyes turned to Noah, dozens of hopeful gazes fixed on him. He held my gaze for two seconds before his shoulders slumped slightly. Reluctantly, he placed the crown on his head, smoothing the paper.

I beamed at him over the child's head. "Well? What do you think?" I asked the children. "Doesn't Alpha Noah look handsome?"

A chorus of giggles and squeals erupted, the children clamoring to see their Alpha in his makeshift hat.