Nico
Alaric and I walked down the side of the hall, dodging the stares from every table we passed. People were watching us, sure, but I didn't care. Let them stare. Let them whisper behind their champagne glasses about what the hell was happening between the two of us tonight. I don't care if we even made headlines the next day.
None of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was getting Alaric alone so I could push him further.
We kept going until we hit this long hallway that curved off into a quiet corner, away from all the noise and fake smiles of the gala. The marble floors echoed under our shoes, sharp and loud in the sudden emptiness. The distant sound of the crowd faded behind us until it was nothing but a low hum.
The second the crowd was behind us and it was just the two of us, Alaric snapped. He shoved me back against the wall, hard.
My shoulders slammed into the cold marble, the jolt shooting straight down my spine. It stung like hell, but damn if that burst of force didn't twist something hot and twisted inside me. The way he finally let go of that polished control, all because of me, felt good. Too good.
"What the hell is your problem?" he growled, his voice rough and right up in my face. His hazel eyes were wide, burning with everything he'd been holding back all night. "What the hell do you even want from me with all this shit you keep pulling? Are you doing it on purpose to mess with my head? Sophia? That fucking painting? The shade you keep throwing in your interviews? What the hell do you want? And also," he paused, sighing heavily, "why the hell did you send that thing to my house?"
I blinked, then flashed him a bright smile, the kind that usually pissed people off even more. Inside, though, I was grinning for real. Alaric was losing it. Exactly like I'd planned. Every single move tonight — bringing Sophia, sending that painting, the little comments in interviews — was working. He was cracking right in front of me, and I loved every second of it.
"I thought you wanted the painting," I said, keeping it casual, almost sweet. "So I sent it over to your place. Shouldn't you be a little more… appreciative?"
That did it.
Alaric slammed both hands on the wall above my head. The smack echoed down the empty hall like a slap across the face. He boxed me in tight, his chest rising and falling fast, heat pouring off him in waves.
"Appreciative?" he shouted. "Why the fuck would I appreciate anything when it's just you running your stupid games to act like you're the one calling all the shots?" He yelled, louder this time, his breath hot against my skin. "I see you, Nicholas Park. There's no damn way you drop half a million on that painting in a bidding war against me and then ship it straight to my door. I know exactly why you're doing all this."
He leaned in closer, so close our faces were almost touching. "You're doing all of this so I wouldn't think about returning to the grid!" he yelled again.
I wasn't fazed by the Volume. My focus had already shifted somewhere else. His pheromones were starting to leak out from the rage boiling inside him — that smoky sandalwood smell slamming into me full force. It was rich and sharp, wrapping around my head and making my knees feel a little weak.
It sent slow shivers crawling down my back, straight to my gut. With my cosplay as a beta, it wasn't hard not to be completely overwhelmed by it, but damn, it still hit me hard enough to make my head spin.
I couldn't stop myself. I breathed it in deep and slow, letting it fill me up completely.
"You…" Alaric stopped mid-sentence, his brows pulling together in confusion. His voice dropped. "What the hell are you doing? Are you actually smelling me right now?"
I didn't back off. I leaned in as far as his hold would let me and took another long breath. That sandalwood hit harder this time, driving straight through me. It smelled wild and addictive, pushing me right up to the edge of something I didn't want to name.
Alaric's eyes went wide again for a split second, then narrowed hard. His Confusion flipped into something darker and hotter but he didn't step away. Instead he pressed in tighter, pinning me solid against the wall.
The air between us turned thick and heavy, like it was hard to breathe. His arms flexed above my head, veins standing out against his skin. I could see the flush creeping up his neck, disappearing under that fancy tux collar.
"You're fucking insane," he muttered, but the words came out rough, almost broken. His scent kept getting stronger, feeding off his anger and curling around both of us in that narrow space. The gala noise — the music, the laughs, the clinking glasses — felt like it was on another planet. It was only us now, breathing the same charged air, our bodies locked close enough that I could feel the heat coming off his chest.
I took one more slow inhale, letting it pull me right to the brink again.
My heart started pounding loud in my ears. Half of me wanted to shove him off and walk away laughing. The other half wanted to see how much more I could push before everything exploded.
"Stop staring at me like that, you weirdo!" Alaric yelled again.
I chuckled darkly and folded my arms across my chest. I hated that he had broken the tension right there, because if he hadn't, I was sure I would have leaned in and kissed him without thinking twice.
"Tell me, De Villier," I said quietly, my voice low against all that tension. "Does it piss you off more that I'm trying to wreck your comeback… or that you can't make yourself step back right now?"
Alaric didn't say a word. He just stared, breathing hard, his body still flush against mine, his hands staying planted on the wall above my head, not moving an inch.
"Do you like me? You want me, Alaric? Is that why you pulled me here just to have a moment with me?" I teased, spreading my arms wide. "If that is the case, then I can indulge you." I winked at him.
"Fuck off, Park," Alaric pushed me hard on the chest and pulled away. "I would never have anything to do with you."
"Never say never," I told him. "You never know what the future holds." I winked at him again, but he just stared back with pure disgust, as if a moment ago he hadn't been eye-fucking me the whole time.
Alaric pointed a finger at me, then at himself. "I'd rather hit my head on the wall than have anything to do with you. You irritate me so much I feel like pulling my hair out each time you come close."
"You didn't think of that when you leaked your pheromones a few minutes ago. Are you trying to seduce me, Alaric De Villier?"
"As if," he retorted, then burst into a short, bitter laugh. "That happened because I was angry and hell no! I have taste, and you…" He eyed me up and down and shook his head. "I don't think you fit the category of what I actually want."
"Oh," I said, but deep down I could feel a knot tightening in my stomach. He had always dated women. He would have married one if the accident hadn't happened. The thought that he might not prefer men at all sat heavy in my chest.
"So your category is only open to women?" I asked.
Alaric shook his head, and I almost let out a sigh of relief. Good. He went both ways.
"I can do both, but you just don't fit the category. And like I said, you irritate me so much, Nicholas Park, that I'd rather hit my head—"
"I know," I cut him off before he could finish. "You said that already. But you know, people's taste can change. Who knows, you might—"
"No. Never going to happen. Have you forgotten what we are? We are rivals. There is no way I am ever considering it, not after what you pulled tonight by involving Sophia. I know you're doing all you can to sabotage my comeback, but just so you know, I am not going to stop anything because you're throwing tantrums online or in front of me. I am joining the championship this year, and if you're too chicken to go head-to-head with me, then pull out instead of acting like a child at every gathering just to get on my nerves."
I said nothing, just staring at the way the veins on his neck popped every time he spoke. I was supposed to feel threatened by his words, but instead I found it intriguing. So I smiled at him.
"I'm not chickening out, Alaric De Villier. I just don't want you back on the grid. Any measures I have to take, anything at all I have to do to make sure you never return, I don't mind doing it. Because there can be only one king on the grid, and that is…" I leaned closer, catching him off guard.
He took two steps backward, missed his footing, and stumbled. He started falling back, but I caught him before he hit the ground, my arms wrapping tight around his waist.
And just then, the lights in the corner went off.
Oh no. Not right now.
My heart started racing fast. My hands shook around him. I pulled him closer until our chests touched and tightened my grip, holding him like my life actually depended on it. Because in that moment, it felt like it did. If he wasn't there, I didn't know what would happen.
"What the hell are you doing?" Alaric tried to push me off, but I held on tighter. "Nico Park, I swear…"
"Please," I begged. I never begged him — never begged anyone — but I had no choice right then. "Just let me hold you at least until the lights come back on."
Hearing that, Alaric relaxed in my arms. We stayed like that for a few long seconds, bodies pressed together in the sudden darkness.
Then the lights flickered back on.
I let go of him immediately and stepped back, breathing hard.
"You… you're afraid of the dark," Alaric said. There was no teasing in his tone, just quiet curiosity.
Afraid of the dark. The words echoed in my ears like a death sentence. It was the last secret I ever wanted Alaric De Villier to know. He could use it against me on the track, in the paddock, anywhere. So I turned around like a coward instead of answering him.
"I should go. This conversation is over. Don't join the championship," I told him, already walking away fast while ignoring the way he screams my name.