The Exiled Alpha's Human Male Mate.[BL]

"Here’s your cash, beautiful. I didn’t actually know Bryce was a unisex name..."

Bryce stared at the bank employee behind the counter with a flat, thoroughly unimpressed expression.

When he stretched out his hand to take the cash, the man deliberately drew it back, a broad, flirtatious smile spreading across his face.

"Can I have your number, honey?"

Bryce’s hand moved before he even thought about it.

The slap cracked across the counter.

"I don’t have time for your nonsense. Are you here to work, or to bother people who actually need your services?"

His voice came out sharper than he had ever heard it, carrying enough irritation to silence the casual murmurs around him.

Every head in the bank turned toward them in stunned disbelief.

Bryce shoved the long strands of black curled hair that had fallen over his shoulder away from his face, snatched the money from the employee’s hand, and stormed toward the exit without sparing him another glance.

The long dress, the part of the disguise he hated most, dragged behind him as he walked, an irritating reminder of everything he was forcing himself to wear simply to conceal his identity.

He pushed the money into the pocket of the hoodie he had thrown over the dress.

He had decided to withdraw the money in cash because he knew transferring it under his own name would leave a trail, and the last thing he needed was to give Vincent another way to locate him.

He reached the door only to collide with someone, his steps faltering as he looked up and found himself standing face-to-face with a man blocking his path.

The man was much taller than him, wearing dark glasses, and there was something unmistakably familiar about his face.

Bryce’s heart skipped.

"Sorry," he murmured automatically before stepping around him and walking out.

He didn’t look back.

He already knew Vincent wouldn’t stop searching for him. If this man was here, there was every possibility that he could trace him through the transaction he had just made.

Bryce quickened his pace.

He needed to get away before the man could be directed toward him.

He was already exhausted, and he hadn’t even been gone for long. The thought of turning around and confronting Vincent briefly crossed his mind.

He could simply go back, tell him to stop hunting him down like some fugitive, and demand to be left alone.

He could confront both Vincent and Dave, because he was certain that once Dave was back on his feet, the situation would only become worse with him joining the search.

The mere thought of it was enough to make him sick of the entire situation.

He could not stand it, and whatever he was feeling that early evening was only intensifying his irritation, fueling a reckless sense of power that made him feel capable of taking on anything.

He felt as though he could fight the entire world alone, and neither Vincent nor Dave could intimidate him anymore, regardless of their power or what they were capable of doing.

He couldn’t help wondering whether he was feeling so unlike himself because of what was coming that night.

Something seemed to be clawing beneath his skin, accompanied by a relentless heat that coiled through his body and an unsettling sensation of claws pressing from within.

It urged him toward something he couldn’t identify, something instinctive and incomprehensible that he couldn’t seem to silence.

His temper had become frighteningly volatile; the smallest irritation could send anger surging through him, and he had to consciously force himself to calm down.

He had nearly lost control when he saw what was happening online.

Leah’s video painting him as some villainous secret lover and displaying his face for strangers to dissect.

The thought of finding her and snapping her neck with one movement had crossed his mind more than once.

Even in Alverton streets- everywhere he passed, people were talking about the same thing: Vincent Walker being gay, secretly having an affair with the "stupid boy" who had supposedly agreed to remain hidden while Vincent paraded his wife before the public.

They questioned who Vincent actually loved.

They mocked Bryce for supposedly accepting the role of a secret lover, insisting that being hidden meant he was nothing more than someone Vincent could use privately while maintaining his respectable image in public.

Some even described Bryce as someone who looked innocent but was supposedly worse than the devil.

That irritated him even more.

He had never claimed to be innocent. He had never tried to give anyone that impression, and he certainly didn’t want strangers deciding what kind of person he was based on a few minutes of footage.

He had even come across Adam’s comment among the countless others, and what the man had written had been so unbelievable that Bryce had stopped reading before his temper drove him to do something reckless.

Eventually, he forced himself to stop looking and listening altogether.

_

Bryce headed toward the apartment he had arranged for himself, trying to focus on reaching somewhere he could finally breathe, but the farther he walked, the more distinctly he became aware of someone following behind him.

Bryce casually glanced around as though checking his surroundings, then let his gaze drift over his shoulder. The same man was still there, only a few feet behind him.

His heart slammed against his ribs, suddenly beating so violently that he could hear it beneath the surrounding noise.

He turned a corner and entered a crowded street where vendors shouted advertisements, people moved in every direction, and the constant din of conversation swallowed ordinary sounds.

But not for him.

Even through the chaos, he could hear the rhythmic beat of the man’s heart following behind him.

He could feel his presence.

And worse, he could hear his thoughts.

’Please be him.’

Bryce’s steps slowed.

A second later, the man’s voice reached him as he spoke into his phone.

"Sir, I think I might have spotted him and what he’s disguised into."

Bryce stopped.

Anger surged through him so violently that his entire body seemed to tense at once.

He wanted to turn around.

He wanted to walk straight back to that man and snap his neck.

What the hell did Vincent think he was? Some criminal who needed to be hunted through the streets?

Why did it seem as though destiny had decided that his life would consist of one psychopath after another, first Dave, and now Vincent?

He had felt Vincent earlier, releasing that strange scent Bryce still knew almost nothing about, except for what it did to his body.

It awakened something inside him, making him sexually responsive to Vincent and filling him with a desperate urge to seek him out.

Even that day, it had done exactly that to him, and Bryce had fought that pull with everything he had, resisting it until he had nearly died.

And now, after everything he had endured to stay away from Vincent, he was sending his people after him, tracking him through the streets as though Bryce had no right to distance himself from him, even if that was exactly what he wanted.

He intended to stay away from them until both of them understood that having a relationship with someone, or even sharing a single encounter with them, did not give them the right to possess his life or dictate what he did with it.

Until they understood that he had the right to choose who he wanted to be with, and that if he ever chose someone else instead of them, they had no choice but to respect it and leave him alone.

He decided he would keep his distance for as long as it took, because he refused to return to either of them until they finally learned that his life belonged to him.

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