The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 113: The Party
Aurora’s POV
"I can’t, Clara," I protested, thinking of Oliver. "I have to go back. Oliver is in Canada for an emergency, but he said he’d be back later tonight. I should be there when he arrives."
"Later tonight could mean three in the morning, Aurora! He’s a King; he’s going to be in meetings and signing treaties. You’re going to sit in that big, empty house by yourself and spiral over Raymond?" She leaned in, her voice pleading. "Just a few hours. A little fun won’t kill you. You need to celebrate your ’jackpot’ anyway!"
I hesitated. The thought of the silent penthouse and the shadows in the corner of the bedroom made me shiver. "Maybe you’re right. A little fun might help take my mind off... everything."
"That’s my girl!" she chirped.
We spent the rest of the afternoon gisting, laughing as she recounted all the drama I’d missed at the club over the last few days. But as evening approached, I realized I couldn’t go back to my apartment to change.
"Don’t worry, I’ve got you," Clara said, dragging me toward her closet. She pulled out a dress that was far from my usual style—a midnight-blue bodycon dress with a dangerously high slit and a plunging neckline. "Wear this. It will look so good on you."
I changed into the dress, the dress clinging to every curve. With a bit of Clara’s heavy-handed makeup and my hair let down in loose, wild waves, I hardly recognized the girl in the mirror. I looked like someone who belonged in the world of Alphas and Kings.
We hailed a taxi and slid into the back seats. After a ten-minute drive, we pulled up at a club with two massive bouncers standing guard. Clara showed the invitation, and we were let in. The moment we stepped in, the bass from the music inside thrummed through the pavement, vibrating in the soles of my feet.
"We’re here," Clara whispered, her eyes dancing with excitement.
I swallowed hard and tried to tell myself this was what I needed—normalcy, music, a crowd. But as we walked through the club, a strange prickle climbed up the back of my neck, that familiar sense of being watched. I glanced over my shoulder, but no one was watching me; everyone seemed busy.
"Coming?" Clara called out.
"Yeah," I breathed, pushing the unease down. "Coming."
We stepped onto the dance floor, and the heat of the club hit me instantly. It was packed, the air thick with expensive perfume and the pheromones of powerful shifters. I followed Clara toward the VIP section, but my eyes were scanning the whole area.
We pushed through the velvet curtains into the VIP section, where the air was a little cooler but the tension was twice as thick. The birthday girl, a tall, striking shifter with kind eyes, greeted Clara with a squeal. I stood back, forcing a polite smile as I was introduced to a blur of names and faces.
"Happy birthday," I murmured, taking a glass of amber liquid someone pressed into my hand.
We sat on the plush leather U-shaped sofas, and for a while, I tried to let the music drown out the voice in my head that was screaming at me to go back to the penthouse. People were laughing, drinking, and losing themselves in the rhythm, but that prickle on the back of my neck wouldn’t quit.
"Clara," I leaned in, shouting over the bass. "I swear, I feel like I’m being watched. It’s like eyes are burning into my back."
Clara took a long swig of her cocktail and rolled her eyes, laughing. "Aurora, look at you! You’re wearing a dress that’s practically painted on and you’re the most beautiful girl in the room. Of course people are watching! Now, stop being a paranoid hermit and loosen up. Let’s dance!"
She dragged me toward the center of the VIP dance floor. The heat of the bodies around us was stifling, but I let my hips sway to the heavy beat, trying to find the "normal" girl I used to be. After a few songs, the crowd shifted. A guy in a sharp suit pulled Clara into a spin, and a new partner moved into my space.
He was handsome in a hard, arrogant way, his eyes raking over my body with a hunger that made my skin crawl. As we moved, he tried to slide his large, heavy hands down to my hips, pulling me flush against him.
"Don’t," I snapped, catching his wrists and shoving him back.
The guy smirked, undeterred. He leaned down, his breath smelling of expensive bourbon and something bitter. "Come on, sweetheart. Don’t play hard to get. How much for the night? Name your price."
The blood in my veins turned to ice. Rage, hot and sudden, flared in my chest. "I’m not a prostitute," I hissed, my eyes flashing. "And there isn’t enough money in this city to make me touch someone like you. Get lost."
I turned on my heel and walked back to our table, my heart hammering. I sat down, gripping my glass so hard I thought it might shatter. A moment later, the shadow fell over me again. He had followed me.
"Do you have any idea who I am?" he sneered, leaning over the table, his face contorted with a bruised ego.
I looked up at him, and for the first time since I’d met Oliver, I felt the full weight of the protection he offered. I didn’t feel like the scared girl anymore. "I don’t care who you are," I said, my voice cold and steady.
No matter how much power he thinks he has, I have Oliver.
The guy’s expression flickered—a mix of shock and sudden, sharp rage. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺
"Get out of my face," I added.
He let out a short, mocking laugh. "We’ll see, girl. We’ll see."
He turned and walked away, disappearing into the dark crowd of the main floor. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, my hands still shaking. I looked toward the dance floor for Clara, but she was nowhere to be seen.
