Chapter 2

Rider  POV

The night was quiet as I walked along the edge of the forest. The air was cold, and the ground felt firm beneath my boots. I was supposed to be in my office finishing reports, but when rogues were detected near our borders, I came out to patrol. As Alpha, I always led the search myself.

My Beta spoke through the pack link, saying the trail had gone cold. No tracks. No body. No clear signs. That bothered me. Rogues rarely moved without reason. Something about tonight felt wrong, and the feeling sat heavy in my chest like a warning.

I kept walking as I scanned the trees, my senses sharp and alert. Then the wind shifted, and I caught a scent I did not recognize. It was soft and human, out of place this deep in our territory. My wolf reacted before I did, pushing forward with sudden tension.

A scream shattered the silence.

I ran.

Branches snapped beneath my steps as I moved through the trees, my focus narrowed to the sound ahead of me. I burst into a clearing and saw her on the ground, shaking and terrified, surrounded by rogues. Something inside me reacted fast and fierce.

I rushed forward. My beta and gamma behind me. I looked at them and through the pack link, I told them to take care of the rogues and they understood what I meant. But they couldn’t change into their wolf form because of the human around. I left the task to them and looked at the human girl who was already shaking due to fear and walked up to her.

I reached the girl and pulled her away from danger, keeping my body in front of hers. Her breathing was quick and uneven, her hands trembling. I could feel her fear like a pulse in the air.

“You are safe now,” I told her quietly.

Soon the clearing fell silent.

When my warriors returned, the rogues were gone. No scent remained. No tracks on the ground. It was as if they had vanished into nothing, and that was not normal. Someone or something was guiding them. And as I stood there with the girl in my arms, I realized the truth.

The attack was not random. 

By morning, the trail had faded into the city like smoke. My wolves returned to the pack house, frustrated that the rogues were impossible to track. Their scent had been masked, almost unnatural.

I returned to my company headquarters because work did not care if I was exhausted or restless. The world still expected perfection from me. I buried myself in reports, expansion plans, and security designs. Meetings stacked endlessly, each one a reminder that the pack depended on me.

Then a knock sounded at my office door.

My human assistant stepped in, her voice timid. “Sir, your next interview candidate is here.”

I barely looked up. “Send her in.”

I did not expect the shift in my chest the second the door opened. The air changed. The room seemed to still.

She stepped inside.

The girl from the forest.

Her eyes were tired, but her posture carried quiet strength. She held a worn folder in her hands, trying to look composed, though I could sense the grief beneath her calm expression.

My wolf surged forward.

A violent pull. A silent recognition. A truth older than reason.

Mate.

My hands tightened against the armrest of my chair.

No. Impossible.

Humans did not become mates. They did not belong in our world, not beside an Alpha, not beside me. Nature did not bend for emotion, fate, or longing.

I swallowed the heat burning through my chest and forced myself to remain still.

She stood before me, unaware of the storm she had awakened, her voice soft when she spoke. “Good afternoon, sir. I’m Daniella.”

The pull deepened, ancient and undeniable.

I looked at her and did the only thing I knew how to do.

I lied to myself.

This is nothing. She is nothing. This is not fate.

I buried the feeling like a blade beneath my ribs and kept my expression cold.

“Sit,” I said, my voice steady, even as my world quietly began to crack.

Daniella  POV

Car horns, rushing footsteps, all blending into a noise that pressed against my chest. I tightened my grip around the straps of my bag as I stood outside the tall glass building, trying to steady my breathing.

But I couldn’t break. Not now. Survival didn’t wait for heartbreak to heal.

I fixed my blazer, whispered a quiet prayer, and walked inside.

The lobby was bright and cold. Marble floors. High ceilings. A receptionist with perfect posture and a polite smile. I spoke calmly, even though my hands trembled slightly.

“I’m here for the interview.”

I was guided upstairs.

Every step felt heavier than it should have, as if the future waited behind those office doors and I was one breath away from losing it.

When the door opened, I saw him.

The mystery guy from yesterday was the CEO of Sterling Wealth. I could hardly believe it and was already hoping he didn’t remember me, especially since I had been in such a vulnerable state and I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t responsible enough. I stared at him. Dark eyes, unreadable. Power sat on his shoulders like it belonged there.

Looking at him up close, at dawn, I realized how handsome he was and how much power radiated around him because something in the room shifted around him, like gravity changed direction and centered on where he stood.

I ignored it. I had to.

I took my seat, steadying my voice as I spoke about experience, resilience, work ethic. I told him about logistics work, budgeting records, leadership training I had never been paid enough for. I didn’t tell him how much I needed this job. Pride protected the parts of my pain no one deserved to see.

He listened in silence.

His gaze lingered on me in a way I didn’t understand, not unkind, not harsh, just searching. As if he was trying to convince himself of something.

My chest tightened, but I didn’t look away.

Minutes felt like hours.

Then he leaned back slightly, expression unreadable. “You’ll start Monday. My assistant will give you the details.”

For a second I didn’t react, afraid I had imagined the words.

Then relief flooded through me so powerfully I almost forgot to speak.

“Thank you,” I whispered, meaning more than gratitude, more than professionalism. Thank you for choosing me. I walked out of the office with a quiet, fragile hope I hadn’t felt in years.

I didn’t see the way he watched me leave, jaw tight, eyes conflicted, fighting a truth neither of us yet understood.

Outside, the winter wind brushed against my cheeks. The city lights shimmered like distant promises again.

This time, for the first time in a long while, they didn’t feel like mockery.

They felt like the beginning of something I wasn’t ready for, but wouldn’t be able to escape.