Alpha king melting under Mafia Queen

Carrying his scent

Micha pulled the car door open for Luther Steph, who was already seated inside. After closing it, he walked around to the opposite side and climbed into the back seat beside him. The vehicle was quiet, but the tension between them was heavy enough to feel.

Micha turned his head slightly, studying Luther’s stiff posture and dark expression. He had seen many moods from him over the years, but this was different. Luther looked unsettled, restless, and far too aggressive for no clear reason.

“Can you tell me what happened in there?” Micha asked, his voice sharp with concern. “You have never acted like that around any woman before. This is not like you at all.”

His words carried frustration as well as authority, and without meaning to, he let out a trace of The Alpha’s dominance. The air in the car seemed to tighten.

“I honestly do not know,” Luther growled. He lifted his hand and rubbed his temple with his thumb, clearly irritated. What troubled him the most was that he truly did not understand his own reaction. Even now, the memory of it made his chest feel tight.

Micha sighed loudly and gestured for the driver to start moving. The car rolled forward, and Luther shot him a cold, warning stare.

“What do you mean you do not know?” Micha snapped, shaking his head in disbelief.

Silence filled the space between them, broken only by the sound of the road beneath the tires.

“Fine,” Micha said after a moment. “If you will not explain yourself, then I will report everything to Mother Lena, Alene. Right now, she is the only one who can discipline you properly,” he said.

“You are not going to say anything to Mom, and that is an order,” Luther Steph said firmly. His voice was calm, but there was a hard edge beneath it. He had always been good at hiding his mistakes from Luna, keeping up the image of being the perfect son. And truthfully, most of the time, he was exactly that. Today was different. Today was the first time he had truly lost control.

Luther leaned back against the seat, staring ahead as memories replayed in his mind. Normally, he handled himself with discipline and restraint. He knew how to act, how to speak, and when to walk away. Only when certain people were involved did his temper rise. Even then, he usually kept it hidden. What disturbed him most was not Micha’s reaction, but his own. He did not recognize himself in that moment, and that unsettled him deeply.

Inside his head, his wolf stirred.

“It happened because you refused to feel anything,” Liam, his wolf, said in a low growl. “You wanted to push her away and despise her. You wanted distance. But the way she kept drawing us closer without even trying made you feel powerless. You hated that feeling. That is why you chose to act foolishly, releasing your anger just to irritate her.”

The words hit harder than Luther expected. He clenched his jaw, his hands tightening at his sides. Liam’s voice carried disappointment, not anger. His wolf despised how Luther had treated his mate, and that truth cut deep.

Luther stayed silent. He did not argue. He did not defend himself. Somewhere deep inside, he knew Liam was right.

The car moved onto a quiet, empty road. The surroundings were dark and unsettling, and the night felt unusually still. Luther Steph suddenly tensed. His senses sharpened as a strong warning signal rushed through him. Something was wrong. He could feel it clearly. Danger was nearby, hiding in the shadows, and he could smell it long before it came close.

“Stop the car,” he commanded firmly.

The driver glanced at him through the mirror, confused by the sudden order.

“Sorry, The Alpha… what?” the driver asked nervously.

“I said stop,” Luther repeated. Before the driver could finish reacting, a sharp gunshot rang out. The sound echoed through the night as the bullet struck the tire, causing it to explode instantly.

“Moon Goddess,” the driver cried out as he struggled to keep control. The car swerved violently and crashed into a tree. The impact was brutal. Glass shattered in every direction as the windows broke, and thick smoke poured from the front of the vehicle.

Pain filled the air. Micha and the driver were badly hurt, struggling to move. Luther was injured too, but even in that state, he looked unbreakable. His body burned with anger and power. He forced the damaged door open with raw strength and stepped out onto the road.

His breathing was heavy, his eyes glowing with fury. He could feel his wolf Liam rising inside him, urging him to react, to fight back.

He wanted to growl loudly and transform into a wolfto punish the individual responsible for this act, however, he understood it was strictly forbidden to transform in the human realm. He surveyed his surroundings, his senses alert for any sign of the assailant. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and a faint metallic tang, a grim reminder of the recent violence. His gaze swept over the shadowed trees and the scattered debris, but nothing stirred. The silence that followed the attack was unnerving, a stark contrast to the chaos that had just erupted moments before. He felt a deep frustration, knowing his true power was restrained by ancient laws.

"Come out... Do not be a coward," Luther Steph shouted, his voice echoing through the quiet space. He gazed at Micha, who was slowly regaining his awareness. Micha's breathing was shallow, but the rapid regeneration of his inner wolf was mending his wounds, knitting flesh and bone back together with supernatural speed. Luther Steph felt a surge of relief, knowing his friend would recover, but also a burning fury at the audacity of the attack. Who dared to strike them down in such a manner? And why? The questions gnawed at him, fueling his desire for swift retribution. He clenched his fists, the raw power of his own wolf stirring beneath his skin, eager for release and vengeance.

"Remarking, 'The one who attacks others from the rear'," a voice stated, cutting through Luther Steph's thoughts. He spun around upon hearing a sound, his hand instinctively going to his side, ready for another confrontation. He expected to see another attacker, perhaps a larger group, but instead, he discovered the identical young woman from the tavern. She was clad in a dark hooded sweatshirt over her crimson gown, her face still concealed by a disguise. Her presence was entirely unexpected, a bizarre twist in an already bewildering situation. She stood calmly, almost casually, as if she had merely stumbled upon a minor inconvenience rather than a scene of brutal assault. Her posture was relaxed, yet there was an undeniable tension in her stance, a readiness that belied her apparent nonchalance.

Astonished, bewildered, or taken aback, he could not comprehend his current emotions. A mix of profound shock, deep confusion, and a strange sense of recognition washed over him. He had seen her before, briefly, in the bustling atmosphere of the bar, but her appearance here, now, was utterly perplexing. Her eyes, visible through the mask, held an unreadable depth, a hint of something ancient and knowing. He tried to piece together the puzzle, to make sense of her involvement, but his mind struggled to connect the dots.