LOGIN12. Mason. Here I sat, on a chair bare-chested while Emma cleaned my upper body with a wet towel. She was standing directly in front of me, the faint scent of sweat mixed with her sweet body fragrance was hard to miss. "It must have been very bad, my lord. You came back with bruises, even for you." I noticed she wore black high-stockings or some form of leggings, an addition that wasn't present in the morning. It went high until it disappeared under her uniform. Her thoughtful expression, and her slightly frowning brows when she wiped my forehead.....was she always this cute? I clenched my fists. I was getting weirdly turned on by the sight. I had to focus. "Ah—" I groaned. She touched a spot on my head that felt somewhat raw, like touching an overly matured pimple. "You got dirt in your wound, my lord. It closed up and now there are some stones stuck inside," she said under her breath as she cleaned. "Don't worry about that. My body will absorb the particles and break it do
11. Mason. I got down from the armoured vehicle and stormed straight to the mansion. We ditched the van, since it wasn't a safe option after the terrorist attack. My jacket, I discarded a long time ago leaving me only with a dusty turtleneck sweater. My annoying twin brother was waiting at the entrance of the mansion. Carl was also there. Good, he will have to hold his boy back because I would not hesitate to strike his Alpha down if it came to blows with him. Even if he was my twin brother. "Well, well, well. If it isn't our favourite compassionate Alpha," Damon mocked me. I stormed past him and continued in the corridor. I had no time for him, the situation room was much more important. "What's that? Cat got your tongue?" Damon followed close behind. He didn't mind that he was following me into my side of the mansion. I turned back and pointed at him. "Don't you dare, mock me. I'm in a foul mood as it is!" My voice, low and steady, carried a silent threat. I hissed and turne
10. Mason. Damien eased the black van into a tight parking space as I peered outside. It was my fourth time outside, undercover as a normal civilian. I did that from time to time, so I could relate to the issue my people were facing. Damien popped the handbrake, activating the parking brake and stared at me. "I repeat for the hundredth time, I don't think this is a good idea, my Lord." I arranged my hood and stared at him, a hint of amusement playing in my eyes. "You are always complaining, Damien. A few years with me and I haven't influenced you enough?" I pulled open the door and stepped outside. The scent of fresh bread wafted past my nose, from a nearby bakery. "My lord, your mask!" Damien gasped and scrambled out the other side. I stared around, and aside from the civilians walking around without a care for the world, I could see my protective detail watching me a hundred meters away. I rolled my eyes and shook my head; they could have been less obvious about it. "My lord,
9. Emma. "Holy shit!" Amelia closed the door behind me. We were in some sort of storage closet. "I heard the rumours, I didn't know—was it you, the girl that Lord Damon sent out a few days ago? The girl whom Lord Damien had to fight his brother for?" "Actually, that was yesterday but yeah," I admitted. My arm still throbbed where he touched me. Amelia ran her fingers through her hair. "That's crazy." She paced back and forth. "I thought he was going to kill me there and then," I sighed. I sat on a tiny stool, as my heart slowed down. "Tell me about it. I was expecting blood any minute," Amelia admitted. "What?" I was surprised. "Wait—wait, he was really going to kill me?" Amelia sounded pretty convinced he would kill me. "I thought he was probably going to hit me or something, not literally KILL me," I stressed on the word kill. Amelia frowned and straightened up. "Oh my gosh, you really don't know anything? Alpha Damon—" She moved to the door, looked outside and cl
8. Damon. The incompetence of the workers in the mansion annoyed me, I felt like punching someone in the face. How can the maids be cleaning my room so late? I stormed through the corridor. I didn't care if I was skirting past my side of the mansion. A maid appeared in the opposite direction, slowly approaching. I expected her to run off, like the others, when they saw me, but she continued in her approach, which piqued my interest. I thought my eyes failed me when I recognised that face. It was the wench that appeared yesterday! How dare she show her face here again? She was uniformed, which meant she was working in my mansion! Anger burned like fuel in my veins; she even dared to walk past me as she got close, as if I were some mere servant. My arms shot forward, grabbing her arms and pulling her to the nearest wall available to me. I moved closer to her, my right hand on her upper arm, while my left hand missed her neck on the left, holding the wall to prevent her from es
7. Emma. I felt midday heat coming, just as I neatly arranged ironed shirts into the baskets and placed them in the Alpha Mason's room. Amelia crouched beside his larger-than-life bed, checking under to see if we had missed anything, but she nodded and got on her feet. "The work here is done, now we rest." She folded her arms. Unlike me, she wasn't in her uniform except for track trousers and a sweater. "The uniform looks good on you." It was strange that she wore no uniform, perhaps she wasn't an ordinary maid or house girl. That would explain why she dealt with the Alpha directly. "Oh, thanks." I glanced down at myself. It felt tight around my waist but I could live with it. I went back yesterday, got most of my things and arrived at the Mansion an hour earlier than Amelia had said. She moaned that I came too early, disrupted her sleep but still carried my bag away before we started work. I turned back to Amelia. "So about my bags, where did you—" a faint, distinct sound emana







