Chapter 5 : When the Mask Came Off

Kiera's Pov

The stranger’s hand around my wrist felt cold and warm at the same time. His grip was strong, commanding. He had already decided I wasn’t going anywhere.

Even with a black mask covering half his face, his presence swallowed everything around us. Tall, broad-shouldered, with an aura like gravity bending toward him.

“You’re shaking,” he said.

“I’m fine,” I replied, staring back at him without flinching.

He released my wrist, but his eyes—frozen gold behind the mask—stayed locked on mine.

Susan appeared beside me, her eyes wide. “Kiera! There you are. I’ll be at the bar if you need me.” She winked and vanished into the crowd.

I didn’t run after her. I was done running. Rafael had fucked my sister on my desk, calling me useless, but I was done being his victim.

Images flashed in my mind—Rafael’s betrayal, Alice’s moans—and anger burned away my grief.

“Why are you crying?” the stranger asked, his scent dark and woodsy.

“I’m not,” I said, wiping a rogue tear angrily. “I just… shouldn’t be here.”

He tilted his head. “Yet here you are.”

I laughed bitterly. “Yeah. Running from a life that just fell apart.”

The words spilled out. I told him bits and pieces—about catching my husband with my sister, how they mocked me, how they were trying to steal everything I owned. I didn't give names, but I said enough.

He listened without interrupting, his golden eyes reading my soul.

“You’re running,” he said quietly.

“I’m taking back control,” I corrected.

His hand brushed a strand of black hair from my face, surprisingly gentle. “Come with me.”

“Is that a command?” I countered, holding his gaze.

He led me upstairs to a VIP section, away from the crowd. Red and purple lights shone over leather couches. He sat down and pulled me onto his lap. I straddled him, my hands resting against his hard chest.

“I don’t even know your name,” I whispered.

“You don’t need it tonight,” he replied, his hands settling on my waist.

He looked at me like I was something worth devouring—a feeling Rafael had robbed me of for years. Driven by a surge of desire and pure defiance, I leaned in and kissed him.

It was fierce, full of anger and passion. He kissed me back with equal intensity, his hand gripping my hair tight enough to make me gasp.

For a second, the memories of Rafael flooded back. The intimidation of this powerful stranger suddenly hit me, and a wave of doubt made me pull back, my hands trembling against his chest. What was I doing? Was I just making another reckless mistake?

He studied my wavering expression. “Do you want to stop?”

I stared at him, feeling the edge of my old, timid self creeping in—the woman who let people walk over her.

No. I slammed the door on that weakness. I wasn't that pathetic girl anymore. I was going to ruin Rafael, and I was going to take whatever I wanted tonight.

My gaze hardened, all hesitation vanishing.

“Don't stop,” I said, my voice steady and commanding. “Make me forget everything.”

A smirk touched his lips. In one smooth move, he flipped us, pressing me into the leather couch. His body dominated mine, his mouth claiming mine as his hand slid up my thigh, pushing my dress high.

I moaned into his mouth, digging my nails into his shoulders, matching his intensity step for step.

“Are you still sure?” he murmured against my lips.

“I’ve never been more sure,” I breathed. “Take me.”

He stripped off my clothes, then his shirt. Every touch was electric. When he finally pushed inside me, deep and thick, I arched into him, taking every inch of him with fierce demand rather than submission.

I let the heat consume us, whispering demands, taking control of my own pleasure while the club music thumped distantly below.

By the time we finished, my body was spent, my mind quiet and victorious. I lay against his chest, tracing idle patterns on his skin as sleep tugged at me.

Then, he removed his mask.

My breath hitched in the dim light.

I recognized the chiseled jaw, the dark hair with faint strands of silver, the icy aura rolling off him.

Alistair. The Lycan King. The man Rafael desperately needed for his alliance. The embodiment of death.

Reality crashed down, and I let out a gasp of pure terror.

I tried to sit up and shift away,, but his arm suddenly tightened around me.

“Going somewhere, little omega?”