Page 78 of The Alpha's Fallen Spell
A shadow falls across the cockpit entrance. “Starting without me?” Erik’s voice is warm with amusement as he ducks his head into the small aircraft.
My heart gives an unwelcome leap. He looks different today—dressed in casual clothes, his hair slightly tousled by the wind, a genuine smile lighting his features. Less the commanding warrior, more the man.
“You’re late,” I say, not entirely successful at keeping the accusation from my tone.
“Traffic,” he replies, squeezing into the back seat. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Carol settles into the co-pilot’s seat, giving us both a knowing look. “All set? Fiona, you’ll be handling the takeoff under my supervision.”
“What?” Panic flashes through me. “I thought we’d just be going over the basics today.”
“The best way to learn is by doing,” Carol replies cheerfully, guiding me through the final preparations.
Erik leans forward. “You’ve got this,” he says quietly, his breath warm against my ear. “Trust yourself.”
Something in his tone steadies me. I nod, focusing on Carol’s instructions, on the feel of the controls beneath my hands. Time seems to compress and expand simultaneously as we taxi down the runway. I feel the plane gathering speed, and Carol guides me through the precise movements needed to lift the aircraft from the ground.
And then we’re airborne, the Earth falling away beneath us, the horizon expanding into endless blue. A wild, unexpected joy surges through me—purer than any adrenaline rush I’ve experienced from skydiving or rock climbing. This isn’t just the thrill of risk; it’s the exhilaration of mastery, of control.
“Oh,” I breathe, unable to articulate the feeling expanding in my chest.
From the back seat, Erik makes a soft sound—almost a sigh. When I glance back, his expression steals my breathmore effectively than the altitude: naked admiration, pride, and something deeper, something that makes my chest ache.
For the rest of the lesson, I focus intently on Carol’s words, on learning the delicate balance of controls that keeps us airborne. But I remain acutely aware of Erik behind me, of his quiet presence witnessing this moment of pure joy.
After we land, Carol praises my natural aptitude and confirms my next lesson. As Erik and I walk toward the parking lot, I find myself unexpectedly reluctant to leave.
“Thank you,” I say, stopping beside Erik’s car. “That was incredible.”
His smile is gentle, without a trace of smugness. “You’re welcome.”
“I still don’t understand why you’re doing all this,” I admit, frustration creeping into my voice. “The books, these lessons...”
“Don’t you?” He steps closer, his gaze intent. “I’m playing the long game, Fiona. I’m trying to show you who I am now—what I value, what matters to me. And if all I accomplish is giving you experiences that make you happy, that’s enough.”
The sincerity in his voice is almost painful to hear. I want to hold on to my anger, my distrust; they have protected me for so long. But it’s getting harder to maintain the walls I’ve built when he keeps finding ways through them.
“This doesn’t change the past,” I say, my voice smaller than I intended.
“No,” he agrees. “Nothing can. But it might change the future, if you let it.”
I don’t have an answer for that.
The following week brings Erik back to the café, this time with tools and equipment. I watch in bewilderment as he methodically installs new locks, security cameras, and a state-of-the-art alarm system.
“I don’t recall agreeing to this,” I say, my arms crossed as he wires a sensor to the back entrance.
“Consider it payment for all the free coffee refills I’ve consumed over the past month,” he replies without looking up. “Besides, that flimsy lock wouldn’t keep out a determined child, let alone someone who actually wanted to hurt you.”
My employees watch the proceedings with poorly disguised curiosity. Margo seems amused by the whole situation, while Dylan keeps shooting Erik suspicious glances. Alex, surprisingly, has developed a reluctant respect for the older man after observing him work.
It’s Olivia who finally says what everyone is thinking. She corners me in the storage room, an uncharacteristically direct expression on her face.
“So, what’s the deal with Mr. Security System out there?” she asks, nodding toward the front of the café where Erik is now installing a camera above the door.
I sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“Isn’t it always?” Olivia smiles knowingly. “Look, I’m the last person to tell someone else how to live their love life, but that man is clearly head over heels for you.”
