CHAPTER 3: His Immortal Howl

LYRA

Laura had just shoved me into the hottest seat of my life. I never wanted anything to do with my father’s organization, yet here I was about to step into the orbit of Malaki Dragna. The man whose very name people whispered like it could summon death.

And I was supposed to be his personal assistant.

Assistant. To him.

My stomach twisted. What if he was dangerous? What if he was worse than the rumors?

“Lyra,” I muttered under my breath, pacing the kitchen like the floorboards might answer me. “Pick one either get caged into your parents’ obsession with hunting werewolves, or work for Malaki. At least with him, I might get a salary instead of a silver bullet.”

“He can’t be as bad as they say,” I said aloud, even though my voice cracked. “And he definitely can’t be more nagging than Mom. Besides, the other companies didn’t even look at my application. Not one.”

I drew in a breath, squared my shoulders, and declared, “Fine. I’ll work with Malaki Dragna.”

Laura’s lips curved into a knowing smile, the kind she wore when she won an argument without actually saying a word. “I knew you’d make the right choice.”

“Right,” I muttered. “The right choice.”

But before I could sink too deep into regret, I spotted the soup simmering on the stove and, right beside it, a perfectly golden chicken lap. In one reckless swipe, I snatched it and bolted toward the door.

“Lyra Nocturne!” Laura’s voice thundered behind me. “If I catch you, I’ll skin you alive!”

“Love you too!” I called back, already halfway down the hall, chicken in hand.

By the time I slammed my bedroom door shut, I was laughing and gnawing on my stolen prize. Childish victory or not, it felt good.

But the laughter didn’t last. My chest tightened again as reality crawled back in. Malaki Dragna. My new boss. My probable early grave.

I tossed the bone aside, pulled on my best attempt at office clothes, and stared at myself in the mirror. Not bad, but definitely not fashion-magazine material. Still, it would have to do.

******************

An hour later, I stood in front of OilTech Company, my jaw nearly hitting the pavement.

“This place is… massive,” I whispered. The building stretched into the sky like it was competing with heaven. Streams of people in tailored suits flowed in and out, polished shoes clicking, expensive perfumes lingering in the air.

I glanced down at my outfit. What had seemed “professional” at home now looked like a poor imitation compared to their designer threads. My confidence shriveled faster than wet paper.

“Stop it, Lyra.” I gave myself a sharp nod. “You’re not here for a fashion show. You’re here to survive uh, I mean, work. So get your ass together.”

With a deep breath, I pushed through the glass doors.

Inside, the lobby buzzed with controlled chaos phones ringing, heels clacking, people hustling past without even glancing my way. Or at least, that’s what I thought… until I felt eyes on me. Dozens of them.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. Was I walking weird? Was it obvious I had no idea where I was going? My pace faltered, and that’s when salvation arrived.

A woman in sharp heels and a sharper smile strode toward me. Her posture screamed competence. “You look new,” she said, her voice warm but curious. “Can I help you?”

Relief flooded me. “Yes thank goodness. I, uh, I just got hired as Malaki Dragna’s assistant.”

The smile slipped. Just like that. Her gaze flicked over me, and then like a switch the warmth drained into fear. She stepped back a full pace. Around us, people who had been openly staring suddenly ducked their heads and busied themselves as though nothing had happened.

“What… what’s wrong?” I asked, my voice small.

She placed a hand on my shoulder, pity softening her eyes. “I’m sorry, girl. None of his assistants last more than two weeks.”

Her words sank into me like ice water. “Wait, what do you mean? What happens to them?”

But she was already walking away. “Good luck,” she said over her shoulder, leaving me frozen in the middle of the lobby, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Did Malaki kill them? Was I next?

I spun toward the exit. “Nope. Forget this. Lyra, there’s still time to escape. Just walk out. Run. Fly. Anything.”

“Lyra Nocturne.”

The sound of my full name cracked through the air like a whip. I froze. Slowly, I turned.

A man in a dark suit was making his way toward me, smiling like we were old friends. His smile didn’t fool me; smiles in this place felt like traps.

“I’ve been expecting you, ma’am,” he said, stopping in front of me.

Confused, I blurted, “Who are you?”

“Daniel. I sent you the email.”

“Right. Of course.” My brain scrambled for escape. “So, listen tiny question. Can I resign?”

Daniel blinked at me. “You… haven’t even started.”

“I know, I know, but, um, I’ve recently learned your boss may or may not have a hobby of oh, I don’t know eating his assistants alive?”

His smile didn’t falter. “You’ve already signed the contract, ma’am. There’s no backing out.”

My stomach dropped. “Contract?”

And then it hit me Laura. Laura signing something on my phone. My so-called best friend had just sold me to a monster.

“This way, ma’am. The boss has been waiting for you,” Daniel said, gesturing to the elevator.

I followed him, legs dragging like I was headed to my own execution.

The elevator chimed at the tenth floor. We stepped out, my shoes suddenly too loud on the marble. My chest grew tighter with every step toward the enormous double doors at the end of the hall. They towered above us, dark and ominous, carved with patterns that looked more like warnings than decorations.

If the door looked this intimidating, what about the man behind it?

Daniel pushed it open. “Ma’am, please, go in.”

I stepped inside, my breath catching. The office was massive, grand, and intimidating in every corner. A man sat in a chair with his back to me, silent, waiting.

“Boss, she’s here,” Daniel said with a respectful bow before slipping out and leaving me alone.

“Wait—you’re leaving me? Daniel, don’t you dare—” But the door clicked shut, cutting me off.

My palms slicked with sweat. I pinched my arm hard, trying to hold myself together.

And then the chair turned.

My thoughts stopped cold.

What the hell…

He was beautiful. Not in a soft, pretty way, but sharp, commanding, dangerous. His eyes golden, piercing, like they could cut through bone locked onto mine. His jawline was carved with ruthless precision, his lips curved just enough to taunt me. Broad shoulders, power radiating off him like heat.

“Stop staring, Lyra,” I whispered in my head, though I couldn’t look away.

If I have to be eaten alive, at least let it be by someone this handsome, my treacherous brain added.

His lips parted, his voice low and certain.

“We meet again, Lyra.”

My breath caught. Again?

What the hell did he mean again? I had never met him in my life.