7 Chapter 7


    Damien’s POV 1


    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, reying that calm yet resilient feminine


    voice in my mind.


    As an Alpha, I was ustomed to immediate submission and awe. But there had been something different in her voice-something that made my inner wolf restless, as if we’d encountered her before somewhere, though I couldn’t ce where.


    “You terrified that poor woman,” my wolf Alex grumbled in my mind. “She’s probably already quit.”


    The thought bothered me more than it should have. Most assistants fled after a single encounter with my temper, leaving ire to clean up the mess. But something about this Seraphina Knight intrigued me-the way she’d maintained herposure despite my obvious


    fury, the slight tremor in her voice that suggested fear but not submission.


    Just then, ire called.


    “Good evening, Alpha. I hear you frightened my recement?” Her tone carried that familiar note of mockery that only she could get


    away with after decades of service to my family.


    “ire, where did you find this woman?” I asked directly, my curiosity about the mysterious assistant growing stronger by the minute.


    “Her name is Seraphina Knight. Silver Moon Harbor Business School graduate, exceptional abilities. Single mother, works harder than anyone I’ve ever supervised.” ire 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 me she has real backbone.”


    “Single mother?” Something about that detail caught my attention.


    “Four-year-old son named Adrian. Sweet boy- she showed me his photo.” ire’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 immediately pulled up Seraphina’s employment file on myptop. Twenty-three years old, graduated summa cumude from Silver Moon Harbor Business School, previous employment at smaller firms with glowing rmendations. No photograph


    attached-HR’s standard privacy protocol for new hires.


    Her cover letter was professional but brief, mentioning her desire to work for apany that valued merit over connections.


    My phone chimed with an email notification. Sender: [emailprotected]</a>


    *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 uing week based on priority levels.*


    best support your objectives.*


    *Best regards,*


    *Seraphina Knight*


    *Senior Assistant to the CEO*


    I opened the attachments, expecting the standard administrative drivel. Instead, I found a meticulously organized report that covered


    not just basic scheduling, but strategic insights about uing meetings, potential conflicts in my calendar, and even suggestions for


    optimizing my daily workflow.


    This woman had been on the job for exactly one day and was already thinking three moves ahead.


    “Interesting,” Alex murmured approvingly. “She’s not just surviving-she’s thinking like a strategist.”


    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 someone who could


    match my intensity and understand the weight of leadership. I’d had brief encounters, meaningless affairs with women drawn to my


    wealth and status, but nothing that stirred my wolf beyond basic physical attraction.


    Except for once, five years ago.


    The memory hit me with unexpected force-a moonlit night during the pre-Lunar Assembly celebration, a mysterious woman in an


    emerald dress whose scent had driven me wild with desire. Even now, five yearster, 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 emergency call from the northern border-a territorial dispute that


    threatened to escte into full conflict-had dragged me away at dawn. I’d been forced to choose between duty and desire, and duty had


    won, as it always did.


    By the time 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 me. 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 names or arrived without proper registration. My mystery woman had


    disappeared like smoke, leaving me with nothing but memories that grew more vivid rather than fading with time,


    “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 name I didn’t even know.


    09 16


    213


    Stapler /


    “Stop torturing yourself,” I muttered, pushing the memories aside with practiced force. “Focus on the presEIR


    The present, where most of the women who applied to be my assistant were either ipetent or had ulterior motives. They’d flutter their eyshes and wear low-cut blouses, trying to seduce their way into my bed or my bank ount. 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 women invariably crumbled under pressure, which was why I was still relying on ire, who should have retired years ago but


    refused to abandon me to a parade of useless assistants.


    But this Seraphina Knight… something about her seemed 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 disappointments, hope had be a luxury I couldn’t


    afford. “But before that, she needs to be tested”