LOGINLet them come. The sun’s gone predatory by the time I hit my office. It edges past the neighboring tower, scrapes a single beam through the half-closed blinds, and paints the carpet with the kind of hard shadow that only happens when the day is almost over. My chair is turned slightly from the desk
But between my eyes, fractured by the spiderweb in the table’s finish, there is the faintest hint of something wild. The pupil is still a circle, but the color around it is wrong: darker, thicker, almost gold. I watch myself for ten full seconds. I hold the gaze. I do not blink. Then I square my s
When the door finally seals behind the last suit, the hush is absolute. I count three, then five, then seven heartbeats before the footsteps fade down the corridor. Just as quickly as it arrived, the pressure bleeds from the room, and I am alone with the mess that nearly undid me. The conference ta
I can. I do. The door hisses shut behind me, and the sound is a relief so complete it almost floors me. The corridor outside is low-lit, hushed, a world apart from the glass box I’ve just escaped. LEDs run the length of the baseboard, cold blue-white, washing the marble in the kind of glow that tu
But the victory is cut short when the light from the projector passes through my fingers. For a split second, I see it—my nails are too long, the tips gone sharp, the cuticles retreating. It’s not a trick of the light. It’s the thing inside me, crawling toward the surface. I press down harder, feel
He interrupts, smiling, “It’s not the resumes, it’s the retention.” I smile back, but it’s a trick. “We retain better than anyone in this zip code. Anyone on this floor, even.” Trent snorts. “That’s not what LinkedIn says.” The wolf in me bares its teeth, just behind the mask. “If you believe eve
The crosswalk sign flashes red as I approach, an unwavering command to stop, to wait, to hold. I heed it, just this once. There is no harm in pausing when I know what lies ahead. The penthouse is a world apart from the one I now move through, but I carry pieces of it with me, fragments of luxury an
The lock clicks behind me, each sound an echoing note of freedom. I inhale the promise of the morning and the heavy shroud of Derek’s latest message unfurls in the back of my mind. I will not think about it, about him, until I must. The weight of obligation falls away as I step forward, closing the
The first hum of traffic stirs beneath the apartment, the city awakening like a great beast stretching itself from slumber. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, bare feet meeting the warmth of the hardwood with practiced silence. In the hush, I hear the measured tick of my wristwatch from acros
My name commands attention, even whispered behind mirrored walls. Mara Wolfe. I sense the weight of their eyes on me, catch the reflection of their stunned admiration. Before my floor arrives, they already fear me. The girl with the coffee spills half of it on the way to her mouth, staining her bl







