THE ALPHA' HUMAN

MINE TO PROTECT

NICOLE POV

He pulls me against him. My forehead brushes his chest. His arms tighten around me.

Then, his face buries itself in the crook of my neck.

His breathing is uneven. Heavy.

Almost as though he's trying to calm himself simply by knowing I'm here.

He places his hands on my a*s, and I gasp in shock, and unlike the disgust I felt with the director, a pleasant zing runs down my body.

He squeezes it firmly, and a tiny moan escapes me. I clap my hand over my mouth, in shock at my reaction.

"Ian..." I whisper.

"No one," he says, his voice rough against my skin, "has the right to touch you." Each word is filled with restrained fury. "No one."

But you are touching me, though. It's not like I’m complaining.

I bite my lower lip to stop more embarrassing sounds coming out of my mouth.

I remain frozen in his arms, painfully aware of every second that passes.

His breathing is no longer as ragged as it was moments ago. The violent tremor running through his body gradually eases, but his hold on me doesn't.

It's firm.

As though he's reassuring himself that I'm standing here, unharmed, and I don't know why.

This man keeps confusing me every time. He barely knows me. Why would seeing another man touch me drive him into such uncontrollable rage?

The question circles endlessly in my mind, but no answer comes.

"I..." I begin breathily.

The words die on my tongue.

What am I even supposed to say?

Thank you?

You're terrifying?

Please explain why you nearly killed someone for me?

Nothing seems appropriate.

The room remains unnaturally quiet.

The only sounds are the director's strained coughs as he struggles to catch his breath somewhere behind Ian and the faint murmur of employees gathered outside the office.

No one dares come in.

I can't blame them.

If I hadn't witnessed Ian pull away because of my voice, I wouldn't have believed anyone could.

A pointed clearing of a throat finally breaks the silence.

Mr. Knight.

I blink, suddenly remembering we aren't alone. Heat rushes to my face.

Ian slowly lifts his head from the curve of my neck.

His expression is still hard, but the murderous rage that had clouded his eyes has dulled into something merely dangerous.

His gaze searches my face.

It's almost as though he's checking for injuries. For a brief second, neither of us speaks.

His eyes travel over me carefully. From my face down to my shoulders and proceeded to my hands.

Only when he's apparently satisfied that I'm unharmed does he finally step back.

Not far, but enough to look at me properly.

"Sorry to interrupt," Mr Knight says cautiously, nodding toward the unconscious director sprawled on the floor. "But he passed out."

I glance over Ian's shoulder.

The director lies motionless, one arm twisted awkwardly beneath him.

My stomach sinks. "Is... is he..."

"Alive," Mr Knight answered before I could finish. "Barely conscious, but alive."

Relief washes through me. Ian follows my gaze without a hint of remorse.

"Call the medical team." His voice is clipped. "Make sure he's treated."

Mr Knight nods once. "And after that?"

Ian doesn't hesitate. "Prepare his suspension paperwork."

The temperature in the room seems to drop. "And notify Human Resources." He looks at the director with complete indifference. "I want a formal investigation. He will definitely be spending the rest of his life in prison.”

Mr Knight studies him for a moment. "You mean that?"

Ian slowly turns his head. "I don't make empty threats."

Mr Knight lets out a quiet sigh. "You definitely don't."

He pulls out his phone and immediately begins issuing instructions.

Within moments, footsteps echo in the hallway outside. The medical staff must already be on their way.

Ian looks back at me. "You."

The single word immediately captures my attention.

"Come with me."

He doesn't wait for my response. He walks toward the door.

The employees gathered outside scatter the moment they saw him approaching. Heads lower. Eyes avoid his.

No one says a word.

The silence follows us all the way down the hallway.

I trail behind him, trying to make sense of everything that has happened in the last ten minutes.

When we reach his office, he opens the door and walks inside.

I hesitate only briefly before following.

The moment I enter, he shuts the door behind us.

The soft click somehow feels louder than the chaos we'd just left.

Ian walks around his desk and lowers himself into his chair.

For several long seconds, he doesn't acknowledge me. Instead, he stares down at the paperwork spread neatly across his desk. His elbows rest on the polished wood.

One hand rubs slowly across his jaw.

He's thinking and trying to regain control.

I remain standing where I am, unsure whether I should sit or wait to be dismissed. The office feels different from the last time I was here.

It's still elegant and intimidating. But now…

Now, it feels strangely personal. Like I've crossed some invisible line.

Finally, Ian speaks. "What were you doing in his office?"

His tone is calm. Too calm.

"I wanted him to sign my salary advance form."

His eyes lift to mine. "You need a salary advance?"

"Yes."

"What for?"

The question isn't harsh. It's simply direct.

But i hesitated. I don't like talking about my family's problems. Especially not with my boss.

"It's for a family emergency." I said.

His gaze doesn't leave me. "What kind of emergency?"

I lower my eyes. "I'd rather not say."

“But I called you last night. I called and told you to let me know if you need anything. But instead, you go to him, and he touches you. He put his f*****g hands on you, Nicole.” He said, sounding angrier and more wronged.

“Why are you getting so angry? You did the same thing just now, didn’t you?” I accused him back.

You enjoyed it though! The little devil in my head says, and I shoo it away.

“I can do that. I am allowed to touch you; I am your ma—” He cuts himself short.

“My what? Mate? Yeah, what does that even mean?” I ask, genuinely tired of his strange talk.

He closes his eyes and takes a breath or two in.

"Where's the form?"

I look down, suddenly remembering I'm still clutching it. I walk over and place it on the desk.

He scans it without another question. Then he reaches for a pen. His signature flows across the page in quick, confident strokes.

He slides the document back toward me. "There."

I stared at it. Just like that?

No interrogation? No conditions?

"Take it to Human Resources."

I picked it up carefully. A genuine smile spreads across my face. "Thank you."

His gaze lingered on that smile for a second longer than necessary.

Then, something soft settles in his expression. Not pity. Not amusement.

Something warmer.

"I'd like something from you too."

My heartbeat stumbles. Does he want to sleep with me too?

I tighten my grip on the paper. "What is it?"

For a brief moment, he looks at me.

Not as my employer. Not with the terrifying intensity from earlier.

Just...

As a man looking at a woman.

Then he says quietly, "Go on a date with me."

The words hang in the air as i stare at him.

Certain I've misheard.

"A... what?"

"A date."

His voice is steady now. "No meetings. No business. No interruptions. Just you and me."