The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 73: Crashed

Oliver’s POV

I looked down at Aurora. Her face was buried in my chest, her body trembling with the kind of terror that makes a person forget how to breathe. I knew that in a few seconds, everything could go black. I couldn’t let her leave this world thinking she was hated. I couldn’t let the last thing she remembered be the cold, arrogant king.

​I forced her to look at me, my hands framing her face with a tenderness that had no place in a falling plane. The emergency red lights painted long, bloody shadows across her skin.

​"Aurora, look at me!" I roared over the sound of the engines failing.

She opened her eyes, her pupils blown wide with fear.

​"I love you, Aurora," I said, the words finally breaking free from the cage of my chest. "I don’t know when or how... but it just happened."

​Her eyes widened, shock flashing through the terror. Her lips parted as she struggled to process the confession she had never expected to hear from the man she claimed to hate.

"Oliver?" she whispered.

​I didn’t give her time to question it. I didn’t give her time to think; I leaned down and captured her lips with mine.

It wasn’t like the angry war we had shared in her kitchen. This was desperate, honest, and full of the soul-shattering love I had tried so hard to hide. I wanted her to feel it—the truth, the warmth, the feelings that had always been there beneath my arrogance.

​Then the plane hit the ground.

​The world turned into a chaotic nightmare of sound.

The force of the impact tried to tear us apart, but I held on, my body acting as a shield as we were thrown through the air. The smell of jet fuel and twisted metal filled my lungs.

I’ve got you.

That was the last clear thought in my mind before darkness swallowed me.

​I groaned as consciousness slammed back into me. My head felt like it had been split open, and the air smelled of scorched metal and leaking fuel.

I tried to move, but a jagged line of fire erupted across my ribs, pinning me to the ground.

​Then, I remembered. Aurora.

​"Aurora!" I rasped, my voice sounding like it had been dragged through gravel.

​I forced my eyes open. I found her pinned under a piece of the interior paneling, her face deathly pale. My wolf howled in a panic I had never felt before. Adrenaline, cold and sharp, pushed through the agony in my limbs as I dragged myself toward her.

​The cabin crew were stumbling out of the wreckage, dazed and bleeding, but I ignored them. I reached her, my hands shaking as I heaved the debris off her body. She didn’t wake up. There was a deep, ugly cut on her forehead that made my stomach turn.

​"Wake up, Aurora. Please," I whispered, pulling her into my arms.

​I checked her pulse—thready, but there. I didn’t wait. I knew the smell of leaking fuel; we had seconds. I hauled her up, my muscles screaming in pain, and stumbled away from the wreckage just as a dull roar signaled the fuel tanks igniting. Then the jet erupted into flames.

​Suddenly, the forest wasn’t empty.

​Guerrilla-style guards emerged from the trees, their movements quick and alert. By the dark crescent marks on their tactical gear, I knew instantly where we were: the Full Moon Pack. We hadn’t even been in the air for twenty minutes before the crash happened.

​They saw me and froze. When they recognized my face, they bowed, their expressions a mix of confusion and fear.

​"Alpha King," the lead guard stammered.

​"Help us," I growled, clutching Aurora tighter to my chest. They moved to take her from me, but a low, guttural snarl ripped from my throat. "Touch her and you die. Just get us out of here."

​I carried her to their trucks, my body screaming with every step, but I refused to let go. As we drove, a sharp pressure hit the back of my mind. My father was mind-linking me, his presence restless and demanding.

​Oliver! Are you okay? The bond is flickering—my wolf is restless.

​Father, I responded back, my mental voice strained. My jet crashed. We are alive, but barely. I’m at the Full Moon Packhouse. I’ll contact you later.

​I cut the link before he could argue. I didn’t have the energy for him. I only had eyes for the woman in my lap. I looked at the blood on her forehead and the way her head lolled against my shoulder. The pain in my own body was nothing compared to the sight of her like this.

​When we arrived at the Packhouse—the place where my mother still lived—I felt a wave of bitter resentment. I hated needing their help, hated being back here, but I had no choice.

​I stepped out of the truck, my legs nearly buckling. Oscar came rushing down the front steps. He stopped dead when he saw the blood and the woman in my arms.

​"Aurora?" he yelled, his eyes widening. "Healers! Get the healers out here now!"

​My mother rushed out behind him, her face pale. "Oliver, what happened? You look—" 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

​I didn’t answer; I just carried Aurora inside. My mother hovered nearby, her face etched with concern that shifted into something more panicked as she saw the blood on my sweater.

​"Oliver, you’re bleeding," she whispered, reaching for me.

​"Heal her first," I growled, ignoring my own injuries.

​The healers scurried ahead, opening doors and prepping equipment. I finally laid her down on the floor in the living room. She looked so pale against them, the deep cut on her forehead still sluggishly bleeding. Seeing her like this—silent, broken, and still—sent a wave of fury through my wolf.

​I sat on the floor, my hand trembling as I reached out to brush a stray hair from her face. I ignored the healers as they began to work on my own injuries.

​"The jet," Oscar said, stepping closer, his voice lower now. "It shouldn’t have gone down, Oliver. It was a brand-new model."

​I didn’t look at him. I kept my eyes on Aurora’s closed lids. "Someone tampered with it."

​"You think it was an assassination attempt?"

​"I think someone wanted me dead," I said, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "And they didn’t care that they were taking her with me."

​The thought of someone targeting her—of her almost dying because she was standing next to me—made my blood turn to ice. My mind raced back to the plane, to the moment I told her I loved her. Did she hear it? Did she think it was just a dying man’s lie?

​Suddenly, Aurora’s hand twitched. Her breath hitched, and a small, pained moan escaped her lips.

​"Aurora?" I leaned in, my heart hammering against my bruised ribs.

​Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and clouded with pain. She looked at me, then at the ornate ceiling, then back at me. I could see the memory of the crash returning to her eyes—the fire, the noise, and the kiss.

​"Oliver..." she whispered, her voice barely a thread. She reached up, her fingers grazing the sweater over my heart. "Are you okay?"