Noah Cast Novels & Stories

Cian is so sure Stace is the purest of evil that regardless of what I say, nothing Stace tells me will be true. “What do you mean, I caught your entire apartment on fire!” I exclaim angrily, frustrated that he isn’t believing me after what I just did. Right now I’m confused, wanting answers I don’t have, and instead I’m here, arguing with “What’s going on?” Cian and I both turn around at the same time to see Noah approaching. With evening setting in, the sunset hues of tangerine and violet reflect of his dark clothing and dark hair, the shadows framing the contours of his face which are twisted into a frown. I probably look crazy, with slightly singed cuffs of my sleeves, the rest of my clot

Firm footsteps echo through the room, and Noah appears at the doorway with a serious expression and a slightly suspicious look in his eyes. “Good morning,” he says politely. Not understanding why his brother is there, Henri frowns in confusion. “Morning! When did you get here?” he asks curiously. “A few minutes ago,” Noah replies casually. “But before coming to your office, I decided to splash some water on my face. I was over at the construction site.” Henri swallows hard, still feeling the lingering tension between himself and Catarina hanging in the air. “I see…” he murmurs. “Did you come here just for that?”

On it was a large red cardboard box, over a meter long. He turned his head and saw Damien in the audience, puffing out his little chest with pride. "Today," Noah's clear, childish voice rang out across the auditorium through the microphone. "I'm going to show you the space fortress I made out of straws. I finished this with my favorite auntie, Chloe!" Chloe beamed an encouraging smile back at him. Under the expectant gaze of the whole crowd, Noah reached out and opened the cardboard box. He peered inside, and his entire body froze. All the color instantly drained from his face.

Then the living room lights flick on, bright and unforgiving. Noah stands there in his tailored black suit, the one that makes him look every inch the powerful billionaire. His dark hair is slightly tousled, as if he’s run his fingers through it after a long day. Those piercing blue eyes scan the room slowly, the sagging balloons, the slightly crooked banner, the forgotten cake with its uneven sprinkles and wilted “33” candle. For a split second, something flickers across his handsome face. Recognition? Regret? It vanishes before I can name it, replaced by the familiar mask of cool detachment.

Noah glanced between them, read enough in the air to excuse himself. “I’m needed in actual medicine,” he said. “Pagled for a real human emergency five minutes ago; I’ve already exceeded my gossip quota.” He tipped his cup in a half‑salute toward Lyra. “Remember,” he said, “if they drag you into an optics panel, I’m available to sit behind you and look respectable.” “Your beard does most of the work,” she said. “I know,” he said. “It’s my greatest asset.” He nodded once to Aiden and Rylan, then peeled off toward the ER side doors, the scent of coffee and human exhaustion trailing him.

I lowered my head shyly, trying to focus on my meal. The TV in the background was still on, tuned to a news channel. [Baxter Group CEO, Jonathan Baxter, Announces Permanent Retreat to Contemplative Life.] Before the segment could finish, James asked the housekeeper to mute the sound. He usually didn't react so strongly to reminders of my past. His sharpness today took me aback. "You…" I started. "Just eat," he said, a clear edge in his voice.

Some even had their eyes wide as if they had seen something that they normally don't. I turned slowly. Nolan. He was walking toward us from the far end of the field, his coat discarded, sleeves rolled up, eyes unreadable as they settled on me. He hadn’t said a word, but the kids already stood straighter, some of them beaming at the sight of him. Others watched like something important was about to happen. He was watching me. And it wasn’t the cold, distant stare I’d grown used to. It was something else. Something softer.

I scanned the faces until I saw him. Noah walked slower than the others, a small backpack on his shoulders and a bright blue cast already decorating his left leg. Someone had drawn a wobbly smiley face on it in permanent marker. He looked tired, but when his eyes found me the careful, watchful expression he usually wore softened. I felt myself smile before I could stop it. “Hey, kiddo,” I said, crouching a little so we were closer to eye level. “Look at you. Tough guy with a cast already.”

"It wasn't that, Keith. It was nothing, don't worry about it, okay?" He nods slowly, "Okay." I stand up and hold my hand out. "Let's get cleaned up, yeah?" "KEITH!" I spin around to see who's shouting.Noah? I see him running through the trees. He stops at the sight of us covered in mud, "What the hell?" He mumbles. His sight lands on Keith. Relief is obvious on his face,"You can't run away like that, son." Son? SON? Noah has a SON? So his mate died then? No wonder he looks so broken.