The Alpha Behind The Mask-Chapter 103: Talk his way out
Oliver’s POV
I sat perfectly still, my fork resting against the edge of my plate, watching the color drain from Aurora’s face.
My heart hammered against my ribs, a heavy, panicked rhythm that I refused to let show in my expression. I saw the way she chewed that second bite, the way her brow furrowed in a confusion that was rapidly turning into suspicion.
I knew she had recognized it. It was a habit, a reflex of my hands that I hadn’t even thought to hide. I had made this for her in that small kitchen when I was just Raymond, the masked Dom.
My wolf was snarling, pacing a tight circle in the back of my mind. I had been too careless. I had cooked with my heart instead of my head, and now it was betraying me. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞
"What is it?" I asked, keeping my voice low and steady. "You don’t like it?"
I reached for my water glass, taking a slow sip to mask the sudden dryness in my throat. I could feel her eyes searching mine, looking for the puzzle to fix. The kitchen, which had felt so warm and intimate just moments ago, now felt tense.
"Can I ask you something?" she whispered, her voice trembling just enough to make my blood run cold.
I set the glass down with a fake calmness. I didn’t blink. I didn’t look nervous. I had spent my entire life wearing masks, and I wasn’t about to let this one slip over a plate of pasta. I forced my muscles to relax, leaning forward slightly as if I were nothing more than a curious lover.
"Of course, Aurora," I said, my tone smooth and reassuring. "You can ask me anything."
Inside, my mind was already spinning, weaving a story about the personal chef who had served my family for a decade. I would tell her it was a signature dish of the packhouse, something I had grown up eating. I would give her any lie she needed to hear to keep the truth from shattering the fragile peace we had built.
I watched her take a breath, her lips parting as she prepared to voice the doubt that was screaming in her head.
"What is on your mind, darling?" I prompted, still acting relaxed.
I saw the way her hand trembled as she set her fork down.
"Where did you learn to cook like that?" she asked. Her voice was full of confusion.
I didn’t flinch. I had spent years training my expression, and I used every ounce of that discipline now. I kept my blue eyes calm, reflecting nothing but mild curiosity, even as my pulse thundered in my ears.
"It is a simple dish, Aurora," I said, sounding casual. "I have had the same personal chef at the packhouse for over a decade. He taught me the basics when I was younger. Why do you ask?"
I reached for my water glass, taking a slow sip to ground myself. I could feel her eyes searching mine, looking for the man she had known in the mask.
"Because it tastes exactly like someone I used to know," she said, her brow furrowing as she stared at the pasta. "Not just similar. Exactly. There is a specific way the garlic is toasted, a specific heat."
She looked back up at me, and for a second, I saw the raw terror and confusion in her gaze. It nearly broke me. It was a painful pill to swallow, realizing that she actually missed him. She missed Raymond. She missed me, but a version of me that was built on lies. Seeing her this haunted by a ghost I had created made a knot of guilt tighten in my gut. I had really hurt her. I had left her with a memory so vivid she could taste it in a simple plate of pasta, and I couldn’t even reach out to comfort her as the man she truly longed for.
Come out clean, Oliver, my wolf growled, pacing with a restless, frustrated energy. Tell her. End this. Tell her you are one person.
I silenced the beast with a mental snarl. I couldn’t. I was scared... scared of losing her.
In order to kill the suspicion before it took root, I leaned back and tilted my head, my expression shifting into one of mild, protective curiosity.
"Who was it?" I asked, my voice calm and full of curiosity. "This person...who cooked for you?"
I watched the way her posture immediately stiffened. The boldness she had shown a second ago vanished, replaced by a visible nervousness. She picked up her fork with trembling fingers and began to eat again, her movements hurried and forced, as if she could bury the question under the food.
"No one," she said quickly, her eyes fixed firmly on her plate. "No one of importance. Just... someone from before. It was a long time ago."
She was obviously scared. She was terrified that I, the Alpha King, would find out about her past with a masked man from the BDSM club. She didn’t realize that the "jealous King" she was trying to appease was the very man she was trying to hide.
I reached across the table, not to take the plate away, but to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She flinched slightly at the touch before relaxing into it, her gaze still carefully averted.
"Aurora," I murmured softly. "You do not have to be afraid of your past with me. Whatever happened before you came into my life... stays there. I only care about the woman sitting in front of me now."
I watched her swallow hard, a small flicker of relief crossing her face, though the tension didn’t fully leave her shoulders.
I watched her take another few bites, the tension in her small frame slowly beginning to uncoil. I had successfully steered her away from the edge of the truth, but the air in the kitchen still felt awkward.
"Eat, Aurora," I said gently. "I have something to show you once you are finished. Something I’ve never shared with anyone else.
