Alpha Santa

When Sparks Fly

Piper

My chest tightens, the air in my lungs refusing to move as if an invisible hand is squeezing the life out of me. Pain lances through me, sharp and unrelenting, like a knife twisting deeper with every breath I can’t take.

I lurch forward instinctively, my hand grasping his wrist before he can step away.

“No!” I cry, my voice cracking. Sparks dance up my arm at the contact, igniting something I can’t name, but I shove the feeling aside. “Please, don’t go.”

Elijah freezes under my touch. His muscles stiff beneath my hand, but he doesn’t turn around.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I’m just—my head is all over the place. A mess. I’m scared, Elijah.” My words come out shaky and fast, tumbling over each other. “My ex-boyfriend is making my life miserable, and I need your help. I need you to be my fake husband more than ever. Please help me. I need this—so he’ll finally leave me the f**k alone for good.”

Finally, he turns, his dark blue eyes locking onto mine. His expression is guarded, his jaw tight, but there’s a flicker of something softer behind his gaze.

“Ex-boyfriend?” he asks, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes, ex-boyfriend,” I reply quickly, nodding as if my life depends on it.

His gaze flickers, and suddenly, as if realising where we are, his eyes drop to the towel wrapped around me. His cheeks flush a deep red, and he looks away, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly.

I notice how embarrassed he looks, his usual confidence faltering, and for a moment, I want to tease him, but I don't. I clear my throat. “Can you give me a minute to change? We can talk properly then.”

His blush deepens, and he nods stiffly. “Of course." He mumbles, stepping back like the space between us might cool his flustered state. “Take your time.”

I close the door and lean against it, letting out a shaky breath. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. I throw on a loose sweater and leggings, running a hand through my damp hair to calm myself. When I finally open the door again, Elijah is still there, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, looking almost... uncertain, his shoulders tense like he’s ready to bolt.

“Come in,” I say softly, stepping aside.

He hesitates before walking in, his presence filling the small space. I motion toward the couch, and he sits on the couch stiffly, his back straight, his hands clasped together between his knees. down, his posture rigid.

“I’ll help you,” he says, breaking the silence. “I’ll be your fake husband. But there are conditions.”

I swallow and sit across from him, clasping my hands in my lap. “Okay,” I say cautiously, meeting his gaze. “What are they?”

He leans forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as his intense gaze pins me in place. “First, if I’m going to be your husband, I’m going to act like your husband. You’re not going to stop me from taking care of you, loving you, and cherishing you.”

My stomach flips at the weight of his words. “Wait, Elijah—”

He raises a hand, cutting me off. “I don’t care that it’s fake, Piper. For the next two years, as far as anyone else is concerned, I’m your husband. And that means I’ll protect you, no matter what.”

His voice is like steel wrapped in warmth, and it sends a shiver down my spine. I nod slowly. “Okay. Anything else?”

His gaze hardens, and for a moment, I feel like he’s looking right through me. “Second, you’re not allowed to date anyone else during these two years. This relationship, fake or not, is sacred. You can’t have any boyfriends or lovers. If you want some s****l pleasures—” He pauses, his jaw clenching. “If you need... anything, you come to me.”

My mouth falls open, and I stare at him in shock. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says flatly.

“This is fake, Elijah!” I snap standing up. “Nothing is going to happen between us. You’re misunderstanding—”

“Am I?” he cuts me off in a challenging voice, standing as well. His height suddenly feels imposing, his presence overwhelming as he towers over me. “If you don’t like my terms, Piper, you can find someone else to play your fake husband.”

“No!” I blurt out, my desperation spilling over. “Fine. Whatever you want. Just—please. Time isn’t on my side, and I can’t afford to lose you.”

His shoulders relax slightly, though his face remains unreadable as he lowers himself back into his seat.

“Then the same goes for you,” I add quickly, sitting down again. “You can’t date anyone either.”

“Done,” he says without hesitation, his voice softening. “Not that it matters. I’ve never been with anyone else. I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

I blink at him, stunned. “What?”

His lips curve into the most breathtaking smile, his blue eyes shining with a warmth that takes my breath away.

“Your eyes,” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

“What about them?” he asks, his smile widening.

“They change colour,” I say, my voice quieter. “They’re beautiful.”

He chuckles, the sound soft and almost shy. “Is that so?”

I nod, the strange flutter in my chest refusing to go away. “Yeah. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”

“Beautiful, huh?” He teases lightly, but his gaze shifts, and I notice him fidget slightly.

I narrow my eyes, recalling how his eyes had turned gold when he was furious with Zack. “Do they always change color? Because that’s definitely not.... human.”

He shifts in his seat, visibly uncomfortable.

I smirk. “Relax. I was just joking. You’re acting like I called you a vampire or something.”

His head snaps up, and his expression twists into disgust. “I hate vampires! Bloody suckers, the lot of them. Don’t compare me to those monsters.”

I can’t help it—I burst out laughing. His over-the-top reaction, the way his ears turn pink, it’s all too much.

“You’re ridiculous,” I say between giggles, shaking my head.

His lips twitch like he’s fighting a smile. “Call me anything else, Piper. Just never that.”

I nod, my lips quirking up in amusement. My body feels heavy with exhaustion, the kind that seeps into your bones after a long, draining day. But for some reason, knowing he’s here makes the weight a little lighter. I yawn, covering my mouth with the back of my hand, and his gaze softens.

“Let me leave you to rest,” he says gently, but a part of me didn't want him to leave.

I nod, walking him to the door, but he suddenly stops and turns back to me, his expression shifting into something more serious.

“About your friend,” he says, and I frown, tilting my head.

“You mean Zoe?”

“Yes, her.”

A pang of sadness washes over me, and I lean against the doorframe, rubbing my arms. “She’s gone back to her boyfriend,” I admit bitterly. “I tried to talk her out of it, Elijah. I really did. But she wouldn’t listen.”

His eyes widen, panic flashing across his face.

“And—” I hesitate, the words feeling heavy on my tongue. “She threatened to report you for attempted murder because of what you did to Zack. I couldn’t stop her. I had to let her go and hope she’ll come back to her senses eventually.”

He curses under his breath, his jaw tightening. “Shit.”

I blink, startled by his reaction. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer right away. His hand moves to the back of his neck, rubbing it as if he’s trying to work out some inner tension. A part of me wants to push, to demand he tell me what’s going on, but a deeper part—one I don’t fully understand—hesitates.

The question slips out before I can stop it, though I keep my tone casual. “Elijah… Is Zoe the director’s mate? You know, like you say I’m yours?”

His head snaps up, his eyes locking with mine, but I quickly wave it off, feeling foolish. “Never mind,” I add hurriedly, heat rising to my cheeks. “It’s probably nothing. I don’t even know what that word really means. I looked it up, and it just said ‘friend.’ So…”

His expression softens, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face, but he doesn’t respond. He steps closer and my breath catches in my throat as his hand brushes against mine, the warmth of his touch sending tingles racing up my arm.

“You think too much,” he murmurs, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

Before I can react, he leans in, his lips brushing my cheek in the softest of kisses. Sparks erupt where his lips touch, and my stomach flips.

“Goodnight, wifey,” he says, his voice low and teasing. “Dream of me.”

I’m too stunned to reply as he steps out the door, giving me one last smile before shutting it behind him. The moment he’s gone, I exhale shakily, pressing my fingers to my tingling cheek. My skin feels like it’s on fire, and my heart thuds wildly in my chest.

“It’s fake,” I mutter to myself, slapping both hands against my cheeks in a desperate attempt to ground myself. “This isn’t real. It’s just business. Nothing more.”

The exhaustion that had weighed me down earlier has vanished, replaced by a restless energy. My gaze lingers on the door, the ghost of his touch still burning faintly on my skin.