The Alpha Behind the Mask

4.

Nic

Fuck. Yesterday, I’d held the very thing that would complete my full ascension to my father’s throne in my arms—and I’d watched her run away. It wasn’t like I could chase her down the sidewalk, though. People frowned on that kind of thing these days.

I sighed. It shouldn’t be too hard to find that specific virgin again, though. It wasn’t like the world was teeming with them anymore. And none had ever affected me quite like the brunette with the startling green eyes. Her scent alone… nothing screamed virgin quite like it.

In fact, something screamed mine.

I made it a habit to stay far away from humans. f*****g humans. But the virgin issue… I’d hoped to put it off for longer. Hadn’t even really been looking. Mother was more anxious than I was, wanting me to make my final ascension to the throne. I was king in name—the rightful heir, but open to challenge before I claimed a pure woman…or something like that. I thought it all rather ridiculous, even though I knew I’d follow through on the lore one day, if only to cement my claim to the throne in the eyes of my people.

But Mother believed in all the old lore—the pent-up s****l energy of a virgin, the burst of power it would offer me, and the longevity her blood would grant. There were all kinds of rules I could only half-remember. Virginity had to be offered willingly—the energy would only work if freely given and couldn’t be taken by force.

I wasn’t so sure. None of what Mother said seemed to work with the modern world anymore… And the stuff about true mates? I’d always imagined it to be fairytales, something to hope for but not to expect…

But f**k, that kiss.

I stood in my closet, surrounded by the clothing that defined my entire image. All the shades of black. I selected a shirt—wrinkle free, of course—and a jacket to match my pants as I ignored yesterday’s shirt, carefully arranged on a hanger and hooked over one of the small door handles that opened individual cupboards for me to peruse ties or shoes.

Every now and then, I tortured myself by wandering closer to that shirt, by inhaling until I filled my chest with the most tantalizing scent I’d ever f*****g inhaled.

My c**k jerked in my pants as I drew the breaths, as I engaged in the sweet torture of closing my eyes and allowing my nose to linger close to the fabric, stirring the memories of the woman I’d wrapped in my arms…at least until she pushed me away, forcing me to return to my senses and reclaim my control.

I’d been moments away from thrusting into her on the sidewalk and claiming her as mine.

I palmed my c**k as it twitched again at the memory of the woman I’d allowed to run. I’d been on my way to a meeting when I detected her scent, like a siren call meant only for me, and I’d made Jenkins pull over.

But I hadn’t meant to get out of the car. Or approach her.

Or f*****g kiss her.

Because now I couldn’t stop thinking about her.

And that wouldn’t do. I knew how to control myself at all times.

Only I hadn’t controlled myself outside that grocery store. I’d run on instinct. Centuries old instinct I’d never even known existed. Or I hadn’t believed in it anyway.

Something else lurked below that kiss. Something other than merely virgin.

My c**k swelled further under my touch, and I swallowed a groan. I’d already taken myself in hand to thoughts of the woman when I got home last night… Then in the shower this morning… And now I hungered for her again.

But I glanced at my watch. My body would have to wait for relief and release. I had a meeting at work I couldn’t be late for. And today I would channel all of my frustration into making people pay.

I grabbed my jacket and shoved my arms into the sleeves then strode through the door—but not before I breathed in deeply by that damn shirt again. I’d never been so f*****g tempted.

And I resented the temptation, because it brought a whole new set of problems to my door. I didn’t spend my time with humans. And I certainly didn’t run around kissing them like my soul would catch fire if I didn’t.

I glanced around the meeting room at La Petite Mort and inhaled the mix of greed, lust and loss of control that seeped in from the casino beyond the closed door. The casino floor remained within my view through the giant one-way mirror that looked out over the main game room.

Even though it was still early in the day, tables were occupied, my dealers were busy, customers were drinking, and most were losing their money.

Yes, the day already smelled like success.

Success and one f*****g human virgin who seemed to have invaded my actual blood.

“Benedict.” I looked at my best friend and the man I trusted with all aspects of my life. “Have you prepared the list?”

Something about calling debts in today appealed to my sense of control. The house always won, after all. And it was a good outlet for my frustration. Something else to focus on so I didn’t have to consider the family battle my discovery of such a tantalizing virgin might ignite.

Benedict grimaced and slid five buff-colored files of paperwork across the table between us. “Each of these individuals owes more than one-hundred thousand dollars. One of them owes very much more than that.”

Jason, my bodyguard, whistled then held his hands up when I glanced at him. “Seems like a lot to let get away, that’s all.”

I grinned, sure it wasn’t a pleasant expression. “That’s why I’m not.”

A ripple of laughter ran around the table as members of my staff sought to ingratiate themselves with me.

“I think you’ll definitely find the top one most fascinating of all. It’s the one with the most debt, but also the most interesting things to call in.” Benedict tapped it with the end of his pen. “And he’s been calling to try to extend his line of credit.”

“Really?” I raised an eyebrow and flipped the folder open.

It all looked fairly standard, and I murmured aloud as I perused the usual conditions.

“He put his bar up as collateral—among other things. Check the most recent sub-clause.” There was amusement in Benedict’s voice.

I stiffened. “His bar?” Suddenly I spoke through fangs that threatened to descend to their full length as the details behind the file came into sharp focus and the first flickers of anger claimed me.

“Yes.” Benedict wasn’t bothered by my sudden display of temper, but some of my other staff shrank away. “And like I said, he’s been calling on the phone since yesterday. Obviously got himself into some more…difficulties.”

“f*****g humans.” My voice was a low growl.

But Benedict laughed. “I thought you didn’t believe in that?”

And just like that, my mind was immediately back with the woman from outside the store, and my d**k twitched. But I swallowed down the sudden whisper of desire and recalled my anger before setting Jean Boucher’s file to one side while Benedict talked me through the other collections cases.

I glanced back at the Boucher file for the rest of the morning, though. Stupid f*****g drunk. Only reason I gave him a tab in the first place was because I’d known his family a long time. Well, his wife’s family. Boucher had walked into a sweet setup of a marriage with the daughter of one of Baton Rouge’s oldest families.

A family I’d known since the beginning here, and a bar I’d frequented nearly as long throughout the decades. I’d watched over every generation of that family, and it had only taken one drunk man with a weakness for giving his money away to bring everything tumbling around his ears.

It seemed he’d built his newest house with my cards, and I was about to bring it all toppling down.

Guilt gnawed at me, though. I’d lost touch with the family around the time of Camille’s marriage to Jean, too caught up with Father’s descent into his long, slow demise and my inevitable rise to the throne to bother with the only humans I seemed capable of tolerating. Even their presence had irritated me at the time, so I’d cut all ties and focused on my future role, doing my best to prepare and forge the alliances that would sustain me through my transition from heir to king.