The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 86: Not Leaving

Aurora’s POV

​He raised a brow, his blue eyes boring into mine with a challenge that made my skin prickle.

"Tell me then," he challenged.

​Tell him... I pleaded with myself, my breath hitching. Aurora, you love this man, for God’s sake. I did. I knew it in the way my body ached when he turned away, in the way the air felt thinner when he wasn’t in the room. But I was terrified. I was scared of the power he held, scared of the world of packs and werewolves, and deeply scared of the messy, unresolved feelings for Raymond that still occupied a corner of my heart. How could I give Oliver all of me when I still can’t let go of my feelings for Raymond?

​When he realized I wasn’t going to speak, the flicker of hope in his eyes died out, replaced by a cold, sharp intensity.

He didn’t wait for me to find my voice.

​"Shut the door after you," he said flatly. He began to turn away, his shoulder brushing mine as he moved back toward his desk.

​The thought of him walking away—the thought of losing him—snapped something inside me. I didn’t think. I didn’t plan. I reached out and grabbed his wrist, my fingers digging into his skin. He stopped, startled, but I didn’t give him a chance to pull away. I spun him back to face me, and before he could utter a single word of protest, I stepped into his space.

​I stood on my tiptoes, reaching up to cup his face with both hands. His skin was hot against my palms. I didn’t hesitate; I pulled him down and pressed my lips firmly against his.

​His eyes widened in shock, his body turning as rigid as a statue. His lips remained sealed. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe—he just stood there, paralyzed by the audacity of it.

​But I didn’t pull back. I pressed on, my heart racing as I poured every unspoken apology, every ounce of my fear, and the love I was too terrified to say out loud into that kiss. I stayed there, my heart racing against his chest, waiting for him to either push me away or finally respond.

When he didn’t respond, ​I pressed harder, my hands trembling as I cradled his face, my fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. I wanted to pour everything into this—every bit of the guilt that had been eating me alive, the terror of almost losing him, and the undeniable truth that I was drowning in him. I didn’t have the words to explain my tangled feelings yet, so I let my lips do the talking.

​Suddenly, the air in the room shifted.

​The low, warning rumble in his chest started, and his hands, which had been hanging at his sides, suddenly snapped up. One gripped my waist so tightly it made me gasp into the kiss, and the other buried itself in my hair, pulling me flush against the hard planes of his chest.

​He groaned into my mouth, a sound of pure desire. The "Alpha King" was gone, replaced by the man who had been starving for me.

He kissed me back with a desperation that was almost violent, his tongue tracing my lips as he claimed me with a hunger that told me he’d been dying for this.

​He kissed me deeper, and I moaned into it, feeling my legs getting weak and a familiar sensation running through me...

​When he realized I was out of breath, he pulled back just a fraction, his forehead resting against mine, both of us gasping for air. His eyes were dark, swirling with a mix of pain and possessiveness that made my knees weak.

​"Aurora," he rasped, his voice wrecked. "What does this mean?"

​I looked up at him, my lips swollen and my heart on my sleeve. I still couldn’t tell him, "I love you"—the fear was still there, lurking in the corner of my mind—but I knew I couldn’t walk out that door.

​"I’m not leaving," I whispered, my voice thick. "I told you, Oliver. I want my job back."

​He didn’t seem convinced; rather, his grip remained possessive...

​"Explain it, Aurora," he demanded, his eyes searching mine with a raw intensity that demanded the truth I was too terrified to voice. "Don’t hide behind the job. Explain why you just kissed me."

​I opened my mouth, my mind racing to find a way to tell him that he was becoming my entire world... My throat felt tight, the words "I love you" dancing on the tip of my tongue, fighting against the fear that usually kept them locked away.

​Knock. Knock.

​The sound echoed in the room.

Oliver’s posture stiffened instantly, his jaw clamping shut. He didn’t let go of me, but his head snapped toward the door, his eyes flashing with terrifying annoyance.

​"Get out!" he roared, his voice a terrifying Alpha command that made the very windows rattle. "I said I am not to be disturbed!"

​There was a hesitant silence on the other side of the heavy oak, then Elias’s voice came through, thin and strained with genuine panic. "Alpha... I am so sorry, but I just got a call from the guards downstairs. I couldn’t ignore it."

​Oliver’s grip on my waist tightened further. "What is so important that you’d risk your life interrupting me, Elias?"

​"It’s your father, sir," Elias blurted out, the words tumbling over each other. "He just arrived at the gates. He’s on his way up."

​Oliver groaned, his forehead dropping back against mine for a brief, agonizing second. He didn’t look angry at the news—just frustrated that our moment was being stolen.

​He stepped back slowly, his hands lingering on my arms for a heartbeat longer than they should have. He smoothed his shirt and hair... his expression shifting from raw desire to a focused, respectful composure.

​"My father," Oliver murmured, a hint of genuine surprise in his voice. "He wasn’t supposed to be back until next week."

​He looked at me, his eyes softening.

​"Have a seat, Aurora," he offered, guiding me to the couch. "My father is... observant. If he sees you looking like you’ve just been thoroughly kissed, he won’t let it go for a month. Fix your hair."

​He didn’t hide me in a closet or shove me out the back door... rather, he was letting his father see me.

I sat and watched him stand by his desk, waiting, even as the elevator down the hall dinged.

​The heavy double doors swung open before Elias could even announce him. A tall, silver-haired man with the same piercing blue eyes as Oliver strode into the room. He carried a heavy cane, though he didn’t seem to need it, and his presence was like a warm but heavy cloak filling the space.

​"Oliver!" the older man boomed, his voice full of surprise. "I decided to surprise you... I hope I’m not interrupting anything vital."

​His eyes immediately swung from his son to me.

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