LOGINPOV: Freya
The towering glass and skyscraper of Ravenscroft Holdings felt like a high-tech fortress.
By eight-forty-five Monday morning, the grand marble lobby was a blur of high-status wolves. Men and women in tailored suits moved, their elite pack auras filling the air, creating a heavy, suffocating pressure that made my chest tighten. It was no surprise everyone here was wolves, afterall Ravenscroft empire usually only allowed people from the Ravenscroft pack work for them.
Which made me surprised I managed to land the interview, though that didn't stop me from feeling completely out of place. I had done my best to look professional, wearing a simple, black blazer and pencil skirt Talia had lent me, my hair pinned up into a tight, neat bun. But underneath the clothes, my skin was entirely on fire with nerves.
I clutched the interview slip tightly in my hand as I approached the massive security desk.
"Name?" the guard asked, his eyes sweeping over me with dismissiveness. He didn't even smell a hint of a dominant rank on me.
"Freya Dalton. I'm here for the executive assistant interview," I said, my voice sounding braver than I felt.
The guard tapped his screen, then froze. He blinked, staring at the terminal, before his posture subtly shifted, straightening out. He looked back up at me, a flicker of confusion passing through his eyes. "Elevator bank D. Take the private lift straight to the top penthouse floor."
I nodded, walking toward the secure gates. My mind was racing. Talia’s cousin had said this was a top-tier position, but a private lift? Usually, an inexperienced, lower-status wolf like me especially one from an outside pack would be subjected to three rounds of panel interviews with lower-level HR managers in a windowless basement room before ever getting a glance at the executive floor. I didn't even have a corporate degree. On paper, I definitely didn't stand a chance.
The lift glided upward so fast my ears popped, the digital floor indicator ticking past fifty, sixty, seventy stories, until it finally dinged at the peak.
The doors glided open, and the sheer scale of wealth hit me.
The penthouse floor was completely silent, lined with dark floors and massive floor-to-ceiling glass windows that looked down on the entire city as if it were a miniature toy set. There were no rows of cubicles here. No frantic ringing of phones. It was a space designed for absolute power.
"Miss Dalton?"
A sharp, older man dressed in an impeccable charcoal suit stepped in front of me. His silver-streaked hair was cut precisely, and his posture was completely stiff. The air around him was dense, he was a Beta, and a highly powerful one at that.
"Yes, sir. I'm here for the interview," I said, handing him my meager resume folder.
The man didn't open it. He simply scanned me with a piercing gaze that made me feel entirely transparent. "I am Garrick Vaughn, Chief of Staff for the supreme executive suite. To be entirely frank with you, Miss Dalton, your application shouldn't even be on my desk. You lack corporate experience, your background is entirely unsuited for the demands of this floor, and there are thirty Ivy League wolves currently waiting downstairs for a preliminary phone screening."
My heart plummeted into my stomach. My fingers tightened around the strap of my purse. "Mr. Vaughn, please. I just need a chance to prove..."
"However," Garrick interrupted, his voice dropping into a deeply perplexed tone as he adjusted his cuffs. "A direct mandate was issued from the interior office. You are to bypass all corporate vetting procedures. The CEO has requested to interview you personally. Right now."
My jaw nearly dropped. I stared at him, my brain completely stalling. The CEO?
The absolute ruler of the entire Ravenscroft empire and pack alliance? He was a mythical figure even to the mid-level pack members. Silas had only ever spoken about him with a rare, hushed reverence laced with sheer terror. The CEO didn't interview secretaries. He didn't handle administrative hires. He dealt with multi-billion-credit international mergers and pack treaties.
"Through those doors, Miss Dalton," Garrick said, stepping aside and gesturing toward a massive pair of heavy, hand-carved mahogany double doors at the end of the long corridor. "Do not speak unless spoken to. And do not make a sound if his aura shifts. Good luck."
My legs felt heavy as I walked down the long, silent hallway. Every instinct in my body was screaming at me to turn around and run, but the image of my mother’s pale face in the hospital forced my feet forward. I had to do this.
I reached the massive doors, my palm sweating against the cold handle. I took one deep, ragged breath, turned the knob, and stepped inside.
The corner office was vast, bathed in the brilliant morning sunlight streaming through the glass. A massive desk sat in the center of the room, flanked by leather seating and minimalist art. But the high-backed leather CEO chair was turned completely toward the window, its occupant looking out at the city with his back to me.
The moment the door clicked shut behind me, the air in the room completely vanished.
A dense, suffocating, and utterly crushing Alpha aura covered the space, so potent and violently dominant that my inner wolf instantly dropped to its knees, whimpering in absolute submission. It was a primal force that made Silas's aura feel like a joke.
"M-Mr. Ravenscroft?" I stammered, my voice cracking in the heavy air.
The massive leather chair slowly rotated around.
Sitting behind the desk, looking impossibly lethal, dominant, and immaculate in a tailored three-piece charcoal suit, was the man from the hotel room.
My breath completely left my body. The room began to spin violently as my mind connected the dots in paralyzing shock. The sharp, chiseled jawline. The midnight-dark hair. The cold silver eyes that had burned into mine in the car.
Shame, terror, and realization crashed into me all at once. The mysterious stranger I had recklessly thrown myself at, the beast who had consumed my body in the dark just to spite his nephew, wasn't a stranger at all.
He was the true Alpha force of the empire. Silas’s uncle.
Raiden Ravenscroft.
POV: FreyaThe towering glass and skyscraper of Ravenscroft Holdings felt like a high-tech fortress.By eight-forty-five Monday morning, the grand marble lobby was a blur of high-status wolves. Men and women in tailored suits moved, their elite pack auras filling the air, creating a heavy, suffocating pressure that made my chest tighten. It was no surprise everyone here was wolves, afterall Ravenscroft empire usually only allowed people from the Ravenscroft pack work for them. Which made me surprised I managed to land the interview, though that didn't stop me from feeling completely out of place. I had done my best to look professional, wearing a simple, black blazer and pencil skirt Talia had lent me, my hair pinned up into a tight, neat bun. But underneath the clothes, my skin was entirely on fire with nerves.I clutched the interview slip tightly in my hand as I approached the massive security desk."Name?" the guard asked, his eyes sweeping over me with dismissiveness. He d
POV: FreyaThe rhythmic hiss of the ventilator inside Room 412 was the only sound keeping me anchored to reality. I leaned my forehead against the cold glass window, staring at my mother’s frail body."I tried to delay the administrative flag, Freya," Dr. Shaw said softly from behind me, her voice heavy with genuine sympathy. "But the billing directive came directly from the top. Silas didn't just cancel the existing medical account, he put an ironclad block on her file. The automated system will legally force us to disconnect her life support in exactly one month from now unless the surgery deposit is cleared.""Fifty thousand credits," I whispered. "Where am I going to get that amount of money? He practically just wants to kill my mother.""Don't worry, I'm sure you'll find a way," Dr. Shaw said quietly, placing a hand on my shoulder before walking back down the intensive care ward.A cold numbness settled deep into my bones. The four years I had spent loving Silas, giving him my yo
POV: FreyaA blinding ray of morning sunlight pierced through the curtains, hitting my eyelids.I groaned, a wave of intense nausea rolling through my stomach as I shifted against the impossibly soft mattress. Every muscle in my body ached with a deep, heavy soreness. As my mind slowly fought through the brutal haze of a whiskey hangover, the vivid, overwhelming memories of the night came rushing back.The rough, consuming intensity of the hotel room. The ghost of a massive, heavily muscled frame pinning me down. The silver-eyed stranger who had taken my desperate plea and turned it into a breathless reality. He had been completely insatiable, his dark alpha scent wrapping around me until I couldn't tell where my pain ended and his touch began.I forced my eyes open, my heart hammering against my ribs as I looked at the other side of the king-sized bed.It was empty.The white sheets were rumpled, still holding the faint, lingering scent of rich cedarwood and rain, but the man was com
POV: FreyaThe silence that followed my desperate plea was deafening, cut only by the heavy drumming of the rain against the ground.The stranger didn't move. His iron grip remained clamped around my waist, keeping me pressed against his massive frame. Up close, his dark alpha scent was overwhelming, pure, unadulterated dominance laced with the sharp crispness of winter rain. It flooded my senses, momentarily clearing the thick, suffocating fog of the whiskey.His eyes narrowed, scanning my face."You're drunk," he said. His voice was a low, gravelly baritone that vibrated right through my chest. "And you’re bleeding, little wolf."I looked down vaguely. A shard of glass from the shattered whiskey bottle must have nicked my ankle when it broke. A thin line of crimson blood was smearing against my heel. I didn't care. The pain in my heart was a thousand times worse."I don't care," I choked out, my fingers tightening further on his collar as the alcohol surged back through my veins. "J
POV: FreyaThe glass shattered against the polished marble floor, splashing champagne all over the hem of my midnight-blue dress. But I didn't feel the cold liquid. I didn't even hear the crowd's gasps around me My entire universe had just violently tilted on its axis.On the grand stage across the ballroom, Silas Ravenscroft stood in the spotlight, his hand slipped seamlessly into another woman's. Banners bearing the Ravenscroft crest unrolled from the ceiling as the announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers: “...proud to announce the formal bonding and upcoming marriage of our future Alpha heir, Silas Ravenscroft, to Catherine Soren!”The Catherine in question looked like a true Luna; wealthy, high-born, and wearing a diamond-encrusted gown that practically screamed money. Silas smiled, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek.The room began to spin. Wasn't this supposed to be our engagement party? That's what he'd told me when he handed me the dress box this morning.







