Damien’s POV
The pack territory negotiations had concluded hours ago, but I couldn’t focus on anything except that voice from this afternoon’s phone call. Sitting in my suite at the Moonstone Hotel, I stared at the tumbler of whiskey in my hand, replaying that calm yet resilient feminine voice in my mind.
As an Alpha, I was accustod to imdiate submission and awe. But there had been sothing different in her voice—sothing that made my inner wolf restless, as if we’d encountered her before sowhere, though I couldn’t place where.
"You terrified that poor woman," my wolf Alex grumbled in my mind. "She’s probably already quit."
The thought bothered more than it should have. Most assistants fled after a single encounter with my temper, leaving Claire to clean up the ss. But sothing about this Seraphina Knight intrigued —the way she’d maintained her composure despite my obvious fury, the slight tremor in her voice that suggested fear but not submission.
Just then, Claire called.
"Good evening, Alpha. I hear you frightened my replacent?" Her tone carried that familiar note of mockery that only she could get away with after decades of service to my family.
"So," I leaned back in my chair, "care to explain how you managed to find soone who doesn’t imdiately quit after hearing my voice?"
"Her na is Seraphina Knight. Silver Moon Harbor Business School graduate, exceptional abilities. Single mother, works harder than anyone I’ve ever supervised." Claire paused deliberately, and I could practically hear her smiling through the phone. "More importantly—she didn’t run away after you scared her. She’s still there working, which tells she has real backbone."
"Single mother?" Sothing about that detail caught my attention.
"Four-year-old son nad Adrian. Sweet boy— she showed his photo." Claire’s voice softened. "She’s had a hard life, Damien. But she’s not looking for pity or handouts. She just wants to work."
After hanging up, I imdiately pulled up Seraphina’s employnt file on my laptop. Twenty-three years old, graduated summa cum laude from Silver Moon Harbor Business School, previous employnt at smaller firms with glowing recomndations. No photograph attached—HR’s standard privacy protocol for new hires.
Her cover letter was professional but brief, ntioning her desire to work for a company that valued rit over connections.
My phone chid with an email notification. Sender:
*Subject: Daily Summary - October 15th*
*Mr. Nightshadow,*
*Please find attached a summary of today’s activities and several items requiring your attention upon your return. I’ve also taken the liberty of organizing your calendar for the upcoming week based on priority levels.*
*I apologize again for any confusion during our phone conversation earlier. I look forward to eting you in person to discuss how I can best support your objectives.*
*Best regards,*
*Seraphina Knight*
*Senior Assistant to the CEO*
I clicked open the attachnts, bracing myself for the usual tedious litany of eting tis and conference room bookings. What I found instead made sit back in genuine surprise.
The report wasn’t just a simple schedule. She’d organized everything perfectly, spotted potential conflicts in my calendar that even I hadn’t noticed, and added smart suggestions for making my workday more efficient.
She’d been in the position for all of eight hours and was already anticipating problems before they materialized.
"Well, well," Alex said with unmistakable respect in his tone. "This one’s not just doing the job—she’s actually good at it."
But I still felt unsettled, and I knew exactly why. The familiar ache of loneliness pressed against my chest—a constant reminder of what I’d been searching for but couldn’t find.
"You’re brooding again," Alex observed dryly in my mind.
"I’m not brooding," I muttered aloud, downing the rest of my whiskey. "I’m thinking."
For so many years, I’d been unable to find my mate, growing increasingly cynical about the possibility of finding soone who could match my intensity and understand the weight of leadership. I’d had brief encounters, aningless affairs with won drawn to my wealth and status, but nothing that stirred my wolf beyond basic physical attraction.
Except for once, five years ago.
The mory hit with unexpected force—a moonlit night during the pre-Lunar Assembly celebration, a mysterious woman in an erald dress whose scent had driven wild with desire. Even now, five years later, I could still recall every detail: the way her green eyes had sparkled with mischief and vulnerability, the soft gasp she’d made when I first touched her, the perfect synchronization of our bodies moving together as if we’d been created for each other.
But when I’d awakened the next morning, she was gone. An ergency call from the northern border—a territorial dispute that threatened to escalate into full conflict—had dragged away at dawn. I’d been forced to choose between duty and desire, and duty had won, as it always did.
By the ti I returned to the hotel that evening, she’d vanished without a trace. I’d left my personal calling card on her pillow—a golden wolf pendant engraved with ’D’—hoping desperately that she might contact . But years had passed without a word.
I’d searched, discreetly of course. Made inquiries, had Lucas investigate the guest lists from that night. But the Lunar Assembly attracted wolves from hundreds of packs, and many attendees used false nas or arrived without proper registration. My mystery woman had disappeared like smoke, leaving with nothing but mories that grew more vivid rather than fading with ti.
"She probably found her true mate," I said aloud, the words tasting bitter. "Probably forgot all about that night."
Perhaps I was a fool for still thinking about a woman whose na I didn’t even know.
"Stop torturing yourself," I muttered, pushing the mories aside with practiced force. "Focus on the present."
The present, where most of the won who applied to be my assistant were either incompetent or had ulterior motives. They’d flutter their eyelashes and wear low-cut blouses, trying to seduce their way into my bed or my bank account. Others would cower at the first sign of my temper, then quit via email without bothering to give notice.
"Pathetic," Alex agreed. "None of them had any backbone."
These won invariably crumbled under pressure, which was why I was still relying on Claire, who should have retired years ago but refused to abandon to a parade of useless assistants.
But this Seraphina Knight... sothing about her seed different. The way she’d handled my explosive phone call, maintaining professionalism despite obvious fear.
"Maybe she’ll surprise us," Alex said hopefully.
"Maybe," I agreed, though I tried to keep my expectations low. After so many disappointnts, hope had beco a luxury I couldn’t afford. "But before that, she needs to be tested."
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