My Ex's Father Is My Alpha Daddy

Chapter 7: Delicious danger

Elara

He wasn't here either.

I sighed with frustration as I knocked on the next door, expecting the deep, rumbling voice of Alpha Damon to answer from the other side. But, like the previous four doors I'd knocked on, I was met with complete silence.

Where the hell did he disappear to? I had just seen the man a few minutes ago. How could he suddenly be nowhere to be found? Could today get any worse?

I groaned, turning to head back out to the courtyard, when I suddenly heard a sharp clang coming from the other side of the building.

Since everyone else was still out at the rings, I was sure the sound had to have been made by no one other than Alpha Damon himself. I guess Lady Luck finally decided to throw me a bone—or at least a crumb.

I swept quickly down the hall toward the noise, ending up in a corridor where several brown wooden lockers lined the walls. I was a hundred percent sure the sound had come from here.

It's just that it was eerily quiet now, even quieter than it had been by the rooms.

Was someone playing a prank on me? Because this wasn't even funny anymore.

Frustrated, I kicked at one of the two double doors at the end of the hall, and surprisingly, it swung open on impact. I knew what I was doing was bordering on utterly intrusive and completely out of line, but I had come a long way and gone through entirely too much trouble just to track this man down. I wasn't about to give up now.

Reminding myself that I just needed to look him in the eye and explain my situation. Maybe not exactly looking him in the eye, still I peered cautiously inside the room.

Suddenly, a sharp chill ran down the back of my neck, and the hairs on my arms stood in high alert.

Someone was definitely standing behind me. Why had my reflexes completely failed to catch them approaching until now?

“What are you doing here?” The voice was so dangerously cold it sent a shiver straight down my spine.

I turned instinctively to face the tall figure looming behind me, but my breath hitched in my throat as my gaze landed on him. Broad, intimidating shoulders packed with firm, heavy muscle transitioned into a sculpted, deeply toned chest. Fresh water glistened over his hot skin, tracing the rigid lines of his abs before dipping lower, following the sharp cut of his V-line to disappear beneath the low-slung gray towel gripping his narrow hips.

“I asked, what are you doing here?” His voice dropped an octave, forcing me to forcefully rip my gaze away from his body and up to his face. His dark green eyes were piercing, pinning me in place as if trying to nail me to the wall.

For the first time in a very long time, my heart actually stuttered, and I was absolutely sure my face was flushed scarlet.

Had he noticed me shamelessly ogling his half-naked body up until a second ago?

I gulped wordlessly, my brain completely short-circuiting for a moment before I ruthlessly forced myself to snap back to reality.

“Erm… I… I heard a noise back here, so I came to inspect.”

“I asked you why you are here.” His tone was low and grave, which instantly sparked my defensiveness. The embarrassment quickly morphed into irritation.

Why did he have to sound so endlessly annoyed, as if I actually wanted to be lurking outside a locker room staring at him?

Since there was no point beating around the bush, I lifted my chin. “I don't want to be a healer,” I said firmly.

Alpha Damon let out a harsh huff. “You don't decide your role. You were given the role of a healer, which means you are a healer. Which also means you are trespassing by being in this sector. So go back, you don't belong here.” He stated it with grim finality, turning his back on me to walk toward the lockers. He pulled one open and started rummaging through it, completely dismissing me as if I were invisible.

“I can't be a healer.” I found my voice again, despite knowing exactly how dangerous annoying an Alpha could be. But I had grown to be quite the daredevil over the past two years. Andy's rebellious streak had really rubbed off on me.

Moreover, I hadn't come all the way out here to be treated like a piece of furniture. “I heard it's not entirely impossible to switch. I just need you to approve it so I can—”

“Being a warrior isn't just something you decide on a whim,” he cut me off coldly. “It's based on merit system, I'm certain the clerk assessed you before giving you the role. And from what I've seen so far, you're not fit.”

I shouldn't have been annoyed. Heck, I shouldn't have spoken out of turn at all, considering this man was an Alpha, and a terrifyingly powerful one at that. But the sound of yet another man looking down on me and telling me I was 'unfit' made my chest burn so hot with sudden fury that the words spilled out.

“I just knocked down one of your supposedly ‘fit warriors’ in two moves.”

He didn't answer. He just looked over his shoulder at me, his dark green eyes narrowing as if trying to dig straight into the depths of my soul.

Then, just as abruptly as he had paused, he turned his gaze back to the open locker. He pulled out a fresh shirt, slammed the wooden door shut, and prepared to pull it over his head, clearly intending to walk out and leave me standing there.

“You saw what I'm capable of out there!” I stepped forward. “I'm strong, and I can take care of myself.”

His back was turned to me, the shirt half-raised, and I moved on pure impulse, determined to show him I could handle myself, that I was ready for the warrior division. But before I could even touch him, Alpha Damon spun with a blinding speed that belied his age and slammed me back against the rough wooden lockers, the impact rattling my teeth and knocking the wind out of my lungs.

His massive frame towered over me, caging me in. I was entirely trapped. I gasped, shuddering inexplicably for the second time that day as the solid heat of his bare chest radiated against my tank top.

His scent, an intoxicating, heavy musk of dark sandalwood and rain, was completely invading my senses, wrapping around me like a physical touch.

His gaze darkened, dropping heavily to my mouth as his large, rough hand slowly lifted.

I stared up into those piercing dark green eyes, seeing the dark, predatory hunger swirling in their depths. His thumb grazed my lower lip, the pad dragging slowly across the sensitive skin. A jolt of pure electricity surged through me, a traitorous, wet heat pooling between my thighs.

His head was lowered so his face hovered mere inches from my face, his lips so close I could feel the ghost of a breath. I thought he might kiss me, might crush that distance and take what he wanted. Instead, his voice dropped to a cold, dangerous whisper that sent shivers down my spine. “Knocking down an arrogant amateur doesn't suddenly make you a pro. Real battles are far more dangerous, and deadly than what just happened out there.”

My breath hitched, and I tried to wiggle away, but the friction only made my body run hotter. I was practically melting, my entire body turning pliant against the lockers.

My instincts were screaming at me to close the gap, to crawl into his arms, to breathe in all of his intoxicating scent and make it mine. I wanted to touch that hard chest, I wanted him to touch me, I wanted to...

No. I didn't want this. I shouldn't be feeling this kind of desire for the father of the boy who had broken me. But my p***y clenched involuntarily, betraying my mind’s resistance.

Just as my body slackened, and I felt like I would be crashing on the floor, he abruptly stepped back, the sudden loss of his body heat leaving me trembling and gasping for air. As he pulled on his shirt, covering the magnificent expanse of his chest, his face hardened into an impassive mask again. “Being assigned the role of a healer is a privilege that anyone with half a brain would jump to have.”

Gripping the wooden locker behind me for support, I glared at him, refusing to back down despite the frantic thudding of my heart. I managed to bite out fiercely, “I'm not anyone. I'm Elara Voss.”

He paused, looking at me intently. He gave a slow, measured nod,

“Since you insist on being a warrior,” he said smoothly, his eyes glinting with a dangerous promise, “then you had better be on the training grounds tomorrow. Not a minute past 8:00 p.m., Elara Voss.”