23. I Want You

‘Damn it, why does she have to be this clumsy? I’m barely holding it together as it is,’ Mason cursed inwardly, his jaw tightening as his gaze flicked between her lips and her wide, startled eyes.

Aria felt the heat crawl up her neck the moment their proximity registered. His scent was intoxicating and maddeningly alluring. It wrapped around her like a magnetic pull, making her heart pound in her chest.

“Y-Your scent—” she started breathlessly, but Mason suddenly gripped her arms with surprising gentleness, steadying her against him.

“Are you okay, Aria?” he murmured, his voice low and velvet-smooth. “Can I call you that… when it’s just us?”

His words sank into her like honey over warm skin. Aria blinked up at him, throat tight, pulse racing. “Y-Yes… Alpha—I mean… Chairman.” She cleared her throat and took a half-step back, trying to reclaim her composure. “Sorry. I got lost in thought.”

Mason slipped his hands into his pockets, his tone teasing. “Must’ve been one hell of a thought to walk down a hallway with your eyes closed. What was on your mind, exactly?”

“My parents,” she lied quickly, voice a little too sharp. “I came here for them.”

He nodded slowly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Right. Let’s head to my office then,” he said, turning. “And try not to wander into me again. Though I won’t complain if you do,” he added with a sly grin.

Aria couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at her lips before she quickly wiped it away, trying to focus.

As Mason reached for the door to his office, he paused and glanced back at her over his shoulder, mischief lighting his eyes. “Since we’re dropping formalities, I’ll call you Aria. And you’ll call me Mason. You called me that before, remember? No need for titles behind closed doors.”

He winked at her before disappearing into the room, leaving Aria standing in the hallway, blushing and breathless.

“Please, have a seat,” Mason said smoothly, his voice low and composed as he made his way to a sleek bar cart in the corner. 

With casual confidence, he popped open a bottle of red wine and poured two generous glasses, the liquid glinting darkly in the room’s soft light.

Aria, however, didn’t sit. Instead, she wandered to a nearby bookshelf, drawn by the line of photographs nestled between rows of aged books. 

She was mid-step, about to study one, when Mason appeared beside her, holding out a glass.

She blinked, surprised by how close he was. Their fingers brushed as she took the glass, a jolt of energy racing up her spine.

“Tell me, Aria,” Mason said without preamble, his eyes never leaving hers, “what exactly are you here to ask? I heard about your parents.”

Her grip tightened on the glass. Shame curled in her gut like a snake, coiling tighter as she accepted the glass but didn’t drink. She hated this. Hated needing something. Especially from him.

“It’s not a big thing,” she lied quietly, forcing the words out. “I just want permission to visit my parents. The guards at the facility won’t let me through… maybe you could tell them to allow it.”

Mason’s brow furrowed in mild confusion. “That’s… odd. Prisons have designated visiting hours for immediate family. You’re saying they’re blocking you even then?”

Aria nodded quickly. “Exactly. They’re deliberately stopping me. I don’t know why.”

He tilted his head, a flicker of amusement playing at the corner of his mouth. “And why do you think they’d do that?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me,” she replied with a hint of desperation. “They haven’t even had their trial yet, but they’re in maximum security like they’re already guilty. It’s not fair.”

“I’ve seen the reports,” Mason said, his tone suddenly cool. “The evidence was damning enough to warrant that kind of custody.”

Aria’s eyes flashed with anger. “That evidence is bullshit! They were framed. Someone set them up, I just don’t know who yet. But I know my parents didn’t do what they’re being accused of!”

Mason didn’t flinch. He sipped his wine, letting the silence stretch before saying, “Unfortunately, the facility is under my uncle’s control. He owns both the land and the prison.”

Aria let out a frustrated breath and set her wine glass down with a soft clink on the nearby shelf. She squared her shoulders and locked eyes with him.

“I’m not asking for pardons or miracles. I’m asking to see them. One visit. That’s all.”

Mason mirrored her, placing his own glass down beside hers. Then he took a deliberate step forward. And another. Their bodies were just inches apart, tension crackling between them like a live wire.

His voice dropped to a near whisper. “If I grant you this favor, Aria… what do I get in return? You do realize I’d have to explain to my uncle why I’m bending the rules for someone who’s been exiled, rejected, and is now under investigation by the Crimson Claw pack.”

Her heart clenched. She swallowed hard, pride crumbling with each passing second. He was right. She had no leverage. No pack. No status. No safety net.

“I’ll do anything,” she said before she could stop herself. Her voice trembled with a mix of fear and determination. “Just tell me what you want… and I’ll pay whatever price it takes.”

Mason’s eyes darkened, his control slipping. He closed the final inch of distance between them, backing her into the shelf behind. She gasped softly as her back hit the wood, wine glasses rattling beside her.

“That’s bold of you, Aria,” he murmured, his breath brushing her cheek. “You have nothing to offer—except maybe… something else.”

Aria froze. Her heart pounded like a war drum, but she held his gaze.

He wasn’t threatening her, but the hunger in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine. His voice, his scent, his presence—it was too much.

[Don’t play with your food,] his wolf growled impatiently inside him. [She’s ours. Take her!]

‘Shut up,’ Mason hissed back mentally. ‘She’s already driving me insane… Don't add to it, I might lose it completely.’

Aria saw something shift in his eyes—like fire flickering behind a mask. She swallowed hard and whispered, “What kind of… repayment did you have in mind, Mason?”

Her mouth was dry, her pulse erratic. She licked her lips unconsciously, trying to calm herself.

That was his breaking point. Mason lost his composure.

“Damn it,” he growled.

His hands were on her face in a flash, and his mouth crashed onto hers in a fevered kiss.

Aria gasped against his lips, her hands pushing at his chest on reflex. But her wolf was already purring, and her resistance evaporated in a heartbeat. 

She kissed him back, hungrily, desperately—like she’d been waiting for this all along.

In her mind, she's questioning herself what she was doing, but her body was telling a different story.

She cannot deny the fact that her body was yearning for him. The attraction and sexual tension that she was feeling for him were so strong that she didn't care who he was. She just wanted to have him as much as he wanted to have her at that moment.

Mason’s hands were on her hips before he lifted her effortlessly, setting her on the edge of his desk. His lips trailed to her neck as he whispered against her skin, “I want you. Say it. Say, I can have you.”

“M-Mason… I… I want y—”

*BANG!*

The office door slammed open, crashing against the wall like a thunderclap. Both Aria and Mason jolted apart, wide-eyed and breathless.

“You’re here!” came a loud, unbothered voice—completely oblivious to the storm they’d just stirred.