Chapter 122: Be Good.... My Alpha....
The elevator doors slide shut behind me with a soft, final sigh, sealing me into the silence of the forty-ninth floor. The sound of the mechanism clicking into place echoes for just a moment before fading, swallowed by the oppressive quiet of the hallway. I stand still for a heartbeat, letting the silence settle around me like a second skin.
The hallway stretches before me—endless, empty, bathed in a dim golden glow that pools across the polished marble floor like honey left too long in the cold. Sconces set high along the walls cast long, wavering shadows that shift with the faintest stir of air.
My footsteps echo as I walk, each one a question I don’t have the answer to, each one swallowed by the thick, expensive silence of this floor.
Where is it coming from?
Tonight, I’ll find out.
I’ll uncover the source of the strange fragrance that has haunted my senses since that morning after my rut. The memory remains vivid—waking up clean, the fever gone, a phantom scent clinging to my skin like a secret before disappearing without a trace.
I follow it.
The scent draws me forward like a thread tied around my chest, drifting through the air like smoke from a fire I can’t see. It’s stronger now. Thicker. It coils through my lungs, settles deep in my chest, and makes my pulse quicken despite myself.
I stop, closing my eyes, trying to identify it. But it defies every category I know.
It’s not floral. Not musky. Not sweet in any way I can name.
It’s something ancient. Something primal. Something that stirs a response in my body before my mind can understand why.
I open my eyes and draw in a slow breath. The scent fills me completely.
What is this?
It’s not an Omega. Not an Alpha.
It’s something else entirely—something that doesn’t fit into any category I know.
I look around. No one. No staff. No guests. Just the quiet hum of the building... and this scent filling every corner of my awareness.
I turn left.
The hallway narrows, the walls closing in slightly, the lights dimming even further. The scent grows stronger with every step—heady, intoxicating, pressing against me like a living thing until I can barely think.
At the end of the hall, there’s only one door. Heavy. Dark. Locked.
Marked VIP.
My body tenses, muscles coiling as my breathing quickens. A strange heat blooms at the base of my neck, spreading slowly down my spine. I reach up, pressing my palm against the back of my neck.
Warm.
What the hell is happening to me?
I stop in front of the door.
Sweat has begun to gather at my temple. It slides slowly down my cheek, cool against my heated skin. I lift a hand and brush my fingertips over my face, surprised by the dampness.
My gaze drifts back to the door.
Is it coming from here?
My phone rings. The sound slices through the heavy silence like a blade—sharp and unwelcome.
I blink, pulling it from my pocket. My fingers feel strangely clumsy as Sum’s name flashes across the screen.
I answer.
"Ellis, where are you?" His impatient voice crackles through the speaker. "I’m waiting. Everyone’s asking about you."
I tear my gaze away from the door and force myself to turn back toward the elevator, dragging myself away from the pull of that scent.
"I’m coming—"
I never finish the sentence.
Click.
The door behind me swings open.
Before I can react, a strong arm wraps around my waist and yanks me backward with sudden, brutal force. My phone slips from my hand, clattering across the marble floor.
The door slams shut behind me, swallowing me into a darkness so absolute it feels as though I’ve been blindfolded.
The room is dark. Impossibly dark. I can’t see anything—only shifting shadows and the solid presence behind me.
A figure stands at my back, his chest pressed firmly against me, one arm still locked around my waist. His grip is iron, possessive. Even through the layers of fabric, I can feel the heat radiating from his body and the uneven rhythm of his breathing against my neck.
The scent is everywhere now. The kind of scent that doesn’t simply fill a room—
It becomes the room.
A slow breath brushes the side of my neck. He inhales. Deep. Unhurried. As though savoring every trace of my scent.
I wrench myself free, my body reacting before my mind can catch up. I spin around, my fist slicing through the darkness.
A low laugh answers me. Soft. Amused. Almost... affectionate. The kind of laugh that knows something I don’t.
"So fierce..."
The whisper brushes my ear, warm and teasing.
"My Alpha."
I throw another punch, aiming for where I think his face might be.
He catches my fist effortlessly.
His fingers close around my wrist like iron, and in one fluid motion, he pins me against the wall. My cheek meets the cold marble, my wrists trapped above my head. The chill beneath my skin is the only thing keeping my thoughts from slipping away.
"Let me go." My voice comes out low, edged with anger. "What the hell are you doing?"
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he leans closer. Close enough that the warmth of his breath brushes my ear, followed by the featherlight graze of his lips against my skin.
"Adorable..."
The word falls from his lips in a quiet, teasing murmur.
"So stubborn."
His free hand slides to my waist, gripping the fabric of my shirt, squeezing lightly as if testing the shape of me. His thumb traces a slow circle against my hip with agonizing slowness, and a shiver runs through me—involuntary, unwanted, undeniable.
"My Alpha."
I struggle, throwing my weight against his hold—but he’s stronger. His body presses against mine, solid and unyielding. The scent clings to my senses, blurring the edges of my thoughts until even drawing a steady breath becomes difficult.
"You’re so soft," he whispers, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
I fight again, forcing every ounce of strength into breaking free.
"Let me go... you bastard..."
The words leave me broken, breathless.
A quiet chuckle vibrates against my ear.
His lips brush my skin once more, followed by the light graze of his teeth—a teasing bite that makes my breath hitch.
"Be good," he whispers.
My body betrays me, the strength slowly draining from my limbs. The warmth of him, the scent surrounding us, the solid weight of his body against mine—it’s too much. My thoughts scatter. My breathing turns uneven.
He inhales against my neck again, his nose gliding slowly along my skin, lingering for a heartbeat.
"Be good, my Alpha."
My eyes close. My body surrenders, the last of the tension draining from my limbs.
"Who..." My voice is barely a whisper, fragile in the heavy silence. "Who the hell are you?"
For a moment, he doesn’t answer.
Then his grip loosens.
He turns me to face him, his hands sliding from my wrists to my waist as he eases me away from the wall. Darkness still surrounds us, but I can feel his presence—the weight of his gaze even though I can’t see his eyes.
My mind swims. My limbs feel heavy, unresponsive.
He lifts me effortlessly into his arms, cradling me against his chest as though I weigh nothing at all. The silk of his shirt is warm beneath my cheek, carrying the heat of his body, while the steady rhythm of his heartbeat becomes the only thing grounding me in the darkness.
My hand rises weakly toward his collar, but my fingers slip against the smooth fabric, too weak to hold on.
Darkness swallows me whole.
Comments