The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 26: Crying

​Oliver’s POV

​I stood by the edge of the bed, my chest heaving, my skin still on fire from the taste of her. The air in the room felt heavy, charged with the scent of her arousal and the sudden, sharp sting of her rejection. I was confused—completely and utterly blindsided. One second she was arching into my mouth, her fingers tangled in my hair, and the next, she was looking at me like I was the devil himself.

​I looked down at my hands, which were still trembling with a mix of adrenaline and frustration. My cock was still throbbing, painfully hard and demanding release, but the sound of the bathroom door slamming shut killed the mood faster than a bucket of ice.

​Then, I heard it.

​The sound of her sobbing. It wasn’t just a quiet cry; it was a broken, racking sound that tore through the silence of the room and sliced right through my chest.

​"Fuck," I hissed under my breath.

​I reached down and grabbed my pants, pulling them on with jerky, impatient movements. I didn’t even bother with my shirt or my boots. I walked toward the bathroom door, every step feeling like I was walking on glass. My heart broke with every sob that muffled through the wood.

​I leaned my forehead against the door, my hand hovering over the handle I knew was locked.

​"Aurora?" I called out, my voice rough and cracked.

​Did I go too far? I knew the "show" with the blonde was a low blow—I wanted to provoke her, to make her admit she wanted me—but the way she had responded to me on the bed felt real. It felt like she was finally letting me in. And then, it was like a switch flipped. The look in her eyes before she ran... it wasn’t just anger. It was horror.

​"Aurora, talk to me," I growled softly, my fist thudding lightly against the door. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have... I shouldn’t have pushed you like that."

​I felt like a monster. As the Alpha King, I was used to taking what I wanted, but with her, every victory felt like a loss. I wanted her to want me, not to fear me. I wanted to break down the door, pull her into my arms, and wipe those tears away, but I knew that would only make it worse.

​"Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible over her crying. "Just tell me what’s wrong. Did I hurt you?"

​I stood there, feeling completely powerless.

​I slid down against the wood of the door until I was sitting on the cold floor, my head resting back against the panel. "I’m sorry, Aurora," I said, the words feeling foreign in my mouth.

​I didn’t know I could apologize. As the Alpha King, my word was law; I never had to say I was sorry to anyone. The last time those words had crossed my lips was years ago, to my father. But with Aurora, I found myself doing things I never thought I’d do. I was losing my edge, becoming a man I didn’t recognize—all because of the girl crying on the other side of this door.

​My wolf rumbled inside my chest, his voice a low, commanding growl. "Break the door. She is hurting. Break it now."

​He was restless, his protective instincts surging. He didn’t care about her privacy; he only cared that our woman—no, I couldn’t call her that—that she was in pain.

​"Aurora, I’m getting worried," I called out, my voice hardening with a mix of desperation and authority. "If you don’t open this door right now, I’m going to break it down. I mean it. I’ll count to three."

​I was already tensing my muscles to surge upward when the lock clicked. The door creaked open slowly.

​She stood there, looking fragile and broken. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, her lips trembling. Seeing her like this made a sharp pain flare in my chest. I reached out, my hand moving instinctively to cup her cheek, to wipe away the stray tear still clinging to her skin.

​She flinched and stepped back immediately, pressing herself into the bathroom wall. "Please... don’t touch me," she whispered, her voice cracking. "Don’t make me hate myself more than I already do."

​I froze, my hand hanging uselessly in the air. Hate herself?

​Confused, I stepped back to give her space, my mind racing to make sense of her words. And then, a memory surfaced—a rumor I had heard from the club gossips. They said Aurora was deeply in love with her boyfriend, a man she was fiercely faithful to.

​My jaw tightened as the realization hit me like a physical blow. That was why she was crying. She felt like she had betrayed him. She had let another man taste her, touch her, and make her moan, and now she was drowning in guilt for a lover who wasn’t here. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

​A dark, bitter jealousy flared in my gut. What a faithful lover she was, weeping for another man while I was standing right in front of her, ready to give her the world.

​"Is he worth it?" I asked, my voice turning into a wall of ice. "Is your boyfriend worth all these tears, Aurora?"

​She looked at me confused, her eyes shimmering with fresh tears, and the pain in her expression made my wolf howl with frustration. She shook her head frantically, clutching her dress to her chest as if it were armor.

​"Please... just stay away from me," she sobbed, her voice trembling. "I have a boyfriend. I love him! Please, just let me be!"

​She didn’t wait for my response. She shoved past me, her small frame trembling as she scrambled to gather the rest of her things. Stunned and heartbroken, I watched her pack her things and run out of the room, slamming the door shut.

​I stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, before a roar of pure, unadulterated anger ripped from my throat. I turned and backhanded a crystal decanter off the side table, watching it shatter against the wall.

​I got angry at myself. Furious.

​How could I be so stupid? I was the Alpha King, and here I was, played like a fool by a girl with a heart belonging to someone else.

​My wolf was pacing inside me, snapping his jaws, wanting to hunt down this "boyfriend" and tear his throat out. Who was he? What did he have that I didn’t? I could give her everything. I could give her safety, power, and a life of luxury, yet she chose to weep for someone else while I stood there half-naked and bleeding for her.

​I pulled on my new shirt, wincing as the fabric brushed against my bandaged shoulder. I didn’t care about the pain; the sting in my chest was far worse. I adjusted my leather mask, ensuring my identity was hidden, and composed myself.

​I walked out of the VIP suite, my steps heavy and authoritative. I intended to leave, to drive until the cool night air cleared my head. But as I reached the balcony overlooking the main floor, I froze.

​There she was.

​She was near the exit, her small frame still trembling. But she wasn’t alone. A young man was standing over her, his face etched with deep worry. He was reaching out, his hands hovering over her as if he wanted to pull her into an embrace but didn’t quite dare. He took the heavy bag from her hands, slinging it over his shoulder.

​He leaned down and whispered something in her ear, and even from this distance, I saw her nod and lean toward him for a second. He placed a protective hand on the small of her back and led her out of the club, away from me.

​I gripped the railing so hard the metal began to groan and warp under my strength.

​So that was him. The man she loved. The man who made her hate herself for enjoying my touch. He didn’t look like a warrior. He didn’t look like a king. He looked ordinary. And yet, he had the one thing I wanted: her heart.

​