The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 21: Can’t Fall Inlove

Oliver’s POV

​I couldn’t explain the raw, jagged panic that had sliced through me when I heard her scream from behind those steel doors. As Alpha King, I was supposed to be able to control my emotions, but for those few minutes, I was just a man seconds away from tearing the elevator doors off their hinges with my bare hands. The sound of her fear had triggered something primal in my wolf—a protective instinct so violent it nearly choked me.

​When the doors finally opened and she threw herself into my arms, the world narrowed down to just her. The way she clung to me, trembling and small, made me want to burn down anything that had ever caused her a second of fear.

​The drive to her home was silent, thick with the memory of her trembling body in my arms. I tried to break the silence once. "How long have you been scared of the dark?" I asked softly.

​She looked out the window, her voice barely a whisper. "I don’t want to talk about it. Please."

​I respected her wish, but the silence that followed was louder than any words. I dropped her off at her apartment, watching as she hurried inside. There was a frantic energy in her steps, a rush that didn’t make sense for someone who had just finished a fourteen-hour workday. I wondered why she was rushing—perhaps she was late for her shift at the club. The thought of her serving drinks to leering men at this hour made my jaw clench.

​I drove back to the mansion feeling restless. The moment I stepped through the doors, I found the guard responsible for the building’s technical maintenance. I didn’t just reprimand him; I let my Alpha aura explode outward until the guard collapsed to his knees, shaking under its weight. His face was pale as he stammered out apologies for the "glitch." I didn’t care about excuses. She had been terrified, and I hated it.

​"The next time such a thing occurs again, be sure your head is rolling," I spat. Those words were not just a threat, and the guard knew that.

​I reached my room and began stripping off my suit, getting prepared to leave for the club.

​Just as I reached for my leather mask, my phone rang. I checked the screen and felt my blood run cold. It was my father.

​I sucked in a deep breath. For days, I had been avoiding his mind links. Don’t get me wrong—I love my father, and I have a good relationship with him, but these past few days he has been getting on my nerves about a particular topic.

​Sighing heavily and already expecting what to hear, I swiped the screen and put the phone to my ear, my voice turning into a wall of ice. "Father."

​My father was silent for a moment before he spoke. "Oliver, you are twenty-seven," my father’s voice rumbled, sounding more like a tired parent than a former Alpha. "When are you settling down?"

​I frowned, my hand tightening around the leather mask. "I don’t need to, Father. The pack is stable, the borders are secure, and I have everything under control."

​"Stability isn’t a life, son," he sighed. "Go out. Meet people. Fall in love. There are plenty of high-ranking, capable girls in the alliance if you don’t like Cassey."

​"Father, I am never falling in love," I snapped, my voice echoing in the empty, cold luxury of my bedroom. "Not after what I saw it did to you. I watched love turn the strongest man I knew into a shell when Mother broke you. I watched it make you weak, make you lose your sanity. I won’t let a woman have that kind of power over me."

​"Our destinies are different, Oliver," my father said softly, his tone full of a regret that only made my jaw clench tighter.

​"Perhaps," I said, my voice dripping with cynicism. "But women are all the same. They are distractions at best and liabilities at worst. I have my work, I have my crown, and I have my diversions. That is enough."

​"Oliver—"

​"I love you, Father, but I’m sorry to disappoint you. I don’t think I’ll ever get married. Much less fall in love."

​I ended the call before he could argue further. I couldn’t tell him that for the first time in my life, a woman had distracted me today. I couldn’t tell him that the scent of my assistant was currently more intoxicating than the finest whiskey, or that the feel of her small body against mine in the elevator had left a mark on my soul I was desperate to scrub off.

​I put on the contact lenses and pulled the black leather mask over my face.

​I headed out to the garage, took my fastest bike, and roared toward the busy streets of the pack.

​When I arrived, the club was already in full swing. The scent of sweat, expensive perfume, and arousal hung thick in the air. I walked through the VIP entrance, the staff bowing low as I passed, though they only knew me as the "Masked Dom."

​I found Knox in our usual booth, dressed casually and masked, with a drink already in his hand. He looked up, his own mask glinting under the strobe lights. "Late tonight, Oliver. I thought the King was supposed to be the soul of punctuality."

​"Business. And please don’t call me Oliver; I’m known as Raymond here," I grunted, sitting down and signaling the waiter for a double scotch.

​"Well, you’re just in time," Knox smirked, leaning back and nodding toward the velvet-curtained stage. "The manager said they have a favorite who will be entertaining us tonight."

​My pulse quickened the moment the music changed—like my body already knew what was coming. The curtains parted, and a masked girl stepped out.

​She was wearing a dress the color of emeralds, so thin it looked like it was painted on her. A lace mask covered her eyes, and she wore a blonde hairpiece, which was clearly a wig, but I didn’t need to see her face to already know who she was. My wolf stood up, claws digging into my psyche. The scent of wildflowers and honey struck me like a punch to the gut.

​It was her. My innocent assistant was standing in a room full of predators, her skin glowing under the red lights.

​"God damn," Knox whispered, leaning forward. "She is stunning. I think I might put a bid in for her tonight."

​A low, angry growl ripped from my throat before I could stop it. "Don’t even think about it, Knox. She’s mine."

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