THE ALPHA' HUMAN

BEHIND THE GOLDEN EYES

NICOLE POV

I have always been decisive.

Give me two options, and I choose one before most people finish weighing the pros and cons. I don't dwell. I don't second-guess myself. Regret wastes time, and time is a luxury I've never been able to afford.

So why am I still sitting outside Ian’s office?

The leather couch beneath me is far too soft, swallowing me whole when all I want is solid ground beneath my feet. Every second stretches painfully, my eyes fixed on the intimidating black door standing a few feet away.

I should leave.

I should run.

Instead, I stay exactly where I am.

Because nothing that just happened inside that office makes sense.

A complete stranger corners me like I've belonged to him my entire life. I should be terrified.

Any sane woman would be.

Yet...

I'm not.

Confused?

Shaken?

Without question.

But afraid?

No.

My pulse hammers against my ribs, yet it isn't fear fueling it.

It's...something else. Something I don't understand.

Even Mr. Knight looked genuinely frightened.

His face had drained of color. His eyes never left Ian, as if he expected him to—

My breath catches.

MINE.

The word crashes into my mind without warning and a violent shiver races down my spine.

What the hell?

I squeeze my eyes shut.

Maybe Ian Lockwood has some sort of psychological disorder.

That has to be it.

Nothing else explains the way he looked at me...or the way my own body reacted to him.

No normal man moves that fast. And no normal man says mine to someone he's never met before. It’s ridiculous.

I exhale shakily.

I should just leave. Before things get even stranger.

My phone suddenly vibrates inside my handbag, dragging me away from my spiraling thoughts.

I fumble for it.

Eric.

My stomach knots instantly. "Hey," I answer, trying to sound calmer than I feel.

"Nicole..." His voice cracks.

"What happened?"

“The doctors gave us good news today."

Hope sparks inside my chest. "So...she woke up?"

"For a few seconds."

The breath leaves my lungs. "She actually opened her eyes." Tears sting instantly. "Oh my God..."

"The treatment is working."

My hand flies to my mouth. For the first time in weeks...

Hope. Real hope. Mom isn't slipping away from us anymore. She's fighting.

She's still fighting.

Then Eric inhales sharply. "But..."

"The billing department updated the account today." My heart sinks.

"They charged us for everything, Nicole. Every medication...every specialist...the ventilator...the rehabilitation equipment..." His voice breaks. "Insurance rejected the claim for the neurological team. The hospital administration called me into their office."

I already know what he's going to say. I don't want to hear it. "If we don't make a substantial payment immediately..."

"...they're going to stop the aggressive rehabilitation therapy."

My fingers tighten painfully around my phone.

No.

No.

No.

"We've come too far," Eric whispers. His breathing becomes uneven. "I watched her squeeze my hand today." A sob escapes him.

My own vision blurs.

"We can't lose her because we're broke."

His words split something open inside me.

"I've called everyone I know." Another shaky breath. "No one can help."

Then comes the question I've been dreading.

"Nicole..." His voice sounds so small. So broken. "Is there...anyone else we can ask?"

The tears finally spill over.

Hot. Relentless.

I blink furiously, but they keep falling anyway.

Mom.

Our mom.

Our entire world.

She raised us alone after Dad died before I was old enough to remember his face. She worked double shifts. Skipped meals so we could eat. Patched school uniforms.

Smiled through exhaustion. Held us together when life tried to tear us apart. She has always been invincible. Our superhero.

Now she lies in a hospital bed. Motionless. Waiting for us to save her.

God!

I hate sickness.

I hate how helpless I feel.

I wipe my face aggressively, forcing strength back into my voice.

"Don't worry. I got the job." The lie rolls off my tongue before guilt can stop it. "I'm officially working at Lockwood Worldwide."

Eric goes quiet. Then I hear the relief in his breathing. "That’s great.”

Lockwood Advertising Worldwide.

The biggest advertising company in the country. Just hearing the name changes people's attitudes. It buys respect.

Hopefully, it buys us time.

"I'll come to the hospital after work."

Which means, I have to make sure there is a work.

Whatever it takes. Whatever Ian Lockwood wants. Whatever impossible interview waits behind that door. I am not leaving this building unemployed.

"Okay. Please, take care of yourself. I already almost lost Mom." He exhales shakily. "I can't lose you too."

I squeeze my eyes shut. "You won't. I promise." I say and end the call.

The office door opens.

My head snaps up.

Mr. Knight steps out first.

His immaculate suit is slightly wrinkled now. His usually perfect hair is tousled.

He looks…exhausted. Like he has just survived a war.

The office must be soundproof because I did not hear anything.

I stand immediately. "Mr. Knight." The urgency in my own voice surprises me.

He offers me a tired smile. "Ms. Nicole—"

"Nicole." I say. Something about the formal title makes this feel like a rejection already.

"Nicole."

He hesitates. My stomach twists.

"You won't be able to see Mr. Lockwood again today."

Everything inside me drops.

"I'll ask Trina to schedule another appointment—"

"No." The word leaves my mouth before he finishes.

His brows lift.

"I have to see him."

He sighs. "I'm afraid that's not—"

"I need this job." Desperation bleeds into every word. "I can't go back to the receptionist. She already hates me. And if I leave now, she'll make sure I never get another chance. Please." My voice cracks. "I'm begging you."

The dam inside me finally breaks.”She is dying. She's only getting better because of treatment we can't afford anymore."

Fresh tears spill down my cheeks. "I can't lose this opportunity." I shake my head desperately. "I can't lose her."

The guilt I've buried for weeks claws its way back to the surface. "This happened because of me."

The confession leaves me in a whisper. Air refuses to enter my lungs.

"I've already failed her once." A sob tears through me. "I can't fail her again."

Mr. Knight looks toward the closed office door. Then back at me.

His face filled with worry. "Oh...damn it." He pinches the bridge of his nose. "Don't cry. I…." Another long pause.

Then, he sighs. "Come with me."

Hope explodes inside my chest. Before he can change his mind, I follow him straight back toward Ian Lockwood's office.

Hope surges through me as I trail behind Mr. Knight, matching his hurried strides. My pulse pounds harder with every step we take toward the imposing black door.

This is it. My last chance.

Mr. Knight pushes the office door open before stepping inside first. I follow him immediately.

The rich scent of cedarwood and expensive leather greets me again, but this time there's something else lingering beneath it.

Something wild. Something warm.

Something strangely... intoxicating.

The moment I cross the threshold, my heartbeat loses all rhythm.

Not because I'm afraid but because every instinct inside me seems to awaken.

"Ian." Mr. Knight's voice slices through the silence.

He deliberately steps in front of me, his broad shoulders shielding me from the man standing on the opposite side of the office.

There's a warning hidden in his tone. A plea.

Almost as if he's trying to hold back a storm.

"I know she's upset," he continues carefully. "But you need to remain in control."

Control?

The word barely registers before Mr. Knight slowly moves aside.

And I see him.

For a second, my brain simply... stops functioning.

He stands beside the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, the afternoon sun spilling across his broad shoulders like liquid gold.

He shouldn't be real.

No man should be allowed to look like that.

His charcoal suit hugs every inch of his powerful frame, emphasizing the width of his shoulders and the narrowness of his waist. His sleeves are rolled to his forearms now, revealing strong, veined hands that somehow look just as capable of gentleness as they do destruction.

His dark hair is slightly disheveled, as though he's run his fingers through it one too many times.

His eyes lock onto mine. The air between us changes. It thickens.

Nothing exists except the man staring at me like he's found something he spent a lifetime searching for.

His expression softens.

Relief flashes across his face so quickly I almost miss it.

Then longing. Raw.

And the next second—

He's standing in front of me.

I never see him move. One second he's halfway across the office. The next his hand is sliding around my waist, pulling me against the solid wall of his chest with effortless ease.

The other cups my cheek as though I'm made of the most fragile glass.

Warm.

His skin is impossibly warm.

Heat pours from his touch, spreading through my entire body until every nerve ending tingles.

I should step back.

I should tell him to let go.

Instead...

My eyes flutter shut for the briefest moment. His warmth feels...safe.

The realization terrifies me.

His thumb brushes beneath my eye with agonizing tenderness.

"What happened? What made you cry?"

There's genuine concern woven into every word. I force myself to open my eyes.

Big mistake.

His gaze traps mine instantly.

Wait...

I blink once.

Twice.

My breathing falters.

His irises...

No.

That can't be right.

They were gold.

I'm certain they were.

So why is it brown now?

The color appears...

Then disappears. Only to flash again. Like sunlight dancing beneath dark water.

I stare, unable to look away.

Am I imagining things?

Stress. That's all this is. I've barely slept in weeks. I'm exhausted.

Hallucinations make far more sense than—

"Ian." Mr. Knight's sharp voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Control."

The single word changes everything.

Ian's jaw clenches. Every muscle in his body goes rigid.

Something dangerous flickers behind those impossible eyes before he closes them briefly, inhaling a slow, measured breath.

When he opens them again...

The gold is gone.

Only warm brown remains.

I swallow. Definitely hallucinating.

I carefully place both hands against his chest.

"I…I think you should let me go."

I gently push against him. His arm around my waist tightens instinctively.

Possessively. As though the thought of creating even an inch of distance between us is unacceptable.

His brows pull together. His eyes, flickering gold again.

"You don't want me touching you, mate?”