The elevator doors in my apartment building slid open with a soft ding, dumping me into the chilly lobby. Each step towards the exit felt heavier that the last, my leather bag was slung over my shoulder, the silver chain was ice as it nestled my collar bone. Protection.
As soon as I stepped outside I spotted it: a sleek black car idling at the curb, tinted windows reflecting the gray morning sky. Fancy. Too fancy for my neighborhood.
Before I could start thinking if this was the car sent for me, the driver's door opened.
I watched as a tall man unfolded from the seat, wearing a full suit. Neat and impeccable, as if dust didn't exist in his world. He had brown hair that was cropped to a buzzcut. It gave him a boyish look, clashing with formality and softened what would've been otherwise an intimidating presence, especially because of his height.
He look straight at me and flashed a polite smile. His right eyes was brown, the left was green.
Heterochromia. Cute.
"Chloe Wilson?" He asked, voice warm, still smiling.
I nodded stiffly, wondering why he was so damn cheery at 8:45 in the morning.
"Good morning. I'm Liam. Ali sent me to pick you up."
Ali?
My brows twitched, trying to hide my curiosity. Ali, as in Alistair?
I mumbled a barely audible "Good morning" and slid into the back seat when he opened the door for me. The leather was warm, the cabin smelled faintly of cedar and clean cotton. Liam got in after closing the door and started the engine before pulling smoothly into traffic.
I sat briskly in the back seat, knees bobbing in an irregular pattern. I stared through the window, watching as we passed drove by the homeless old lady near my apartment who always tries to sell me dead flowers.
"So," Liam started cheerfully, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "Sleep well?"
"Not really," I muttered, still staring out the window.
"Ah. Yeah, first days are always rough." He nodded sagely. "I remember my first day working with Ali. Threw up twice. Once on his shoes."
I blinked. "What?"
"Different situation though. Nerves and tequila don't mix." He laughed at his own story. I didn't find it funny.
Awkward silence.
He tried again. "Coffee person or tea person?"
"Coffee."
"Nice, nice. I'm more of an energy drink guy myself. You ever try those ones with the—"
"No."
"Right. Cool." He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "So... weather's been crazy lately, huh?"
I looked at him. "It's December."
"Yeah, but like... extra cold, right? Saw on the news it might snow again tonight—"
"It snowed yesterday."
"Exactly! That's what I'm saying. Wild." He nodded enthusiastically.
Another beat of silence.
My knees started bobbing anxiously again. My mind kept wandering back to Lindsey. To Janet. To the fact that I was heading into a building full of wolves—
"You a sports fan?" Liam asked suddenly. Again.
"No."
"Oh. Okay. Not a sports person. That's cool. I don't really follow sports either, honestly. Except sometimes hockey. Do you like hockey?"
"I just said I don't like sports."
"Right, right. But hockey's different though—"
"It's a sport."
"Well, yeah, technically, but—" He stopped himself and cleared his throat. "Okay. What about music? You into music?"
"Sure."
His face lit up. "Yeah? What kind?"
"I don't know. Regular music."
"Regular music." He repeated slowly, like he was trying to decode what that meant. "Like... pop? Rock? Country—"
"Just... music that plays."
"Right. Music that plays. Cool, cool." He nodded a few too many times. "Music that plays is pretty cool, I'm into that too. We have a lot a common."
His awkward chuckle made the silence between us stretch farther again.
I could see him struggling in the mirror, his mouth opening and closing like he was cycling through conversation topics in his head and discarding them one by one.Did he have to try making a conversation? Did Alistair put him up to this?
Finally: "Do you have any pets?"
"No."
"Ever wanted a pet?"
"Not particularly."
"I had a goldfish once. Named him Sir Bubbles." He glanced at me hopefully in the mirror.
I just stared back.
"He died after two weeks."
"Sorry for your loss."
"Thanks." He sighed. "It was a tough time."
My knees kept bobbing. Faster now. I hated goldfishes. But I wasn't going to tell him that and crush his spirit. I didn't want to talk either, but he seems bad at catching up or reading the room.
My mind was already miles away. Lindsey's voice kept echoing. What did she mean? Why was my existense traumatic? Does it have something to do with the werewolves, is that why they're showing up? What exactly was she going to tell me? And now I was heading back to a building full of wolves, not knowing which smiling face in a suit was hiding fangs.
"Hey," Liam said suddenly without the overly enthusiastic voice, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "Maybe you should calm down a little."
I blinked. "What?"
He gave a lopsided smile. "You can calm down. I can smell the fear oozing off you, and there's quite lots of it. And why the hell is his scent on you? That's distracting."
My knees stop, eyes wide.
"You can smell...fear? Are you..." I asked cautiously.
He laughed as I trailed off, seemingly amused.
"I'm either a bear or a cute werewolf, which do you think?" He winks through the mirror. "Yes, Chloe, I'm also a werewolf. Ali told me you already knew."
I rub my palms down my jeans.
"Yeah, well, he kind of info-dumped on me yesterday." I muttered, then asked. "Can you guys really smell fear? Is it a thing? Are you a hybrid too?"
He smiled, shaking his head. "Every person has a scent and based on their emotions, the smell gets stronger. Even though I can't exactly tell what emotion is going through your mind; fear, excitement, anger. I could tell it was fear from your actions alone. So yeah, I guess it's a thing." He points out. "And no, I'm not a hybrid, I'm a full-blood. And you probably shouldn't go around asking everyone that, it's a personal question. Just a word of advice."
I winced. "Sorry. I just...I heard you call him Ali so I assumed—"
Liam grinned at me in the mirror, taking a turn. "We've been buddies since we were in diapers. I used to be taller than him you know, I bossed him around, made him follow me like a little sidekick. Then the bastard shot up like a damn fungus and suddenly he's the pack leader." He shook his head, amused. "Life's funny."
I nodded slowly. "So you work for him now?"
"I work for the pack," he corrected lightly. "Helping Ali is part of it. Beta duties. Not much paperwork, mostly… keeping things in line."
Beta.
The word landed heavy. I nodded along, filing it away and noting that he didn't want to admit that he was working for his friend.
"So...does Beta duties consist of bieng stuck on babysitting duties?" I said half-joking.
"You see how much of an ass he is right?" He plays along. "He's just watching out for you. Benny's gone a little rogue, but he's still under watch. Alpha just wants to make sure you don't get hurt by him."
Something in his tone made my stomach twist, like there was more he wasn't saying. Benny wasn't the only danger here—I could feel it.
"Benny and I are over," I said firmly. "He won't try anything stupid again."
Liam arched an eyebrow at me through the rearview mirror. "It's gonna be kind of hard for Benny to keep calm when his ex-girlfriend that he's very much not over yet suddenly has someone else's scent all over her."
I frowned and subtly sniffed the sleeve of my blouse. I smelled like my cherry bomb oud with a hint of lemon spice.
"I smell like fruit." I say flatly.
"You smell like Alistair Reed," Liam countered, matter-of-fact.
My face heated. Before I could respond, the car slowed and pulled up in front of Power Fin. LTD.
"Take care on your first day," Liam said, killing the engine.
"You're not coming in?"
"Nah. Pack duties outside the building today." He came around and opened my door. "Want me to walk you inside? You look—and smell—like pure fright."
I forced a small smile. "It's okay. And will you just...quit sniffing or smelling me?"
He grinned as I stepped out. "I can't help it, it's in my nature." He tipped an imaginary hat. "Besides, you'll get used to it. The rest are way nosier than you'd ever find me to be."
I sighed helplessly. He waved and got back into the car before driving off.
I slung my bag across my shoulder, took a deep breath, and looked up at the towering glass building. Somewhere up there was the 36th floor. And Alistair.
I let the breath out and stepped forward, heading inside with bold steps.
The lobby was packed.
People moved back and forth in a constant stream—suits, briefcases, coffee cups, phones pressed to ears. I froze for a second, overwhelmed.
Last time, Alistair had maneuvered through the crowd seamlessly, like a warm knife through butter. They'd made way for him.
I sucked it up and started moving forward. To my surprise, they made way for me too. Not dramatically like I was some god, just enough space opening up naturally. I blinked in confusion and then almost relaxed.
Until a woman with a clipboard stepped right in front of me.
"Mr. Reed, we have a financial report on the Millers, and their finances aren't looking too good—"
The woman's voice faded slowly as she looked up and realized it was just me.
"You're not Mr. Reed," she said slowly.
No shit.
Why would she think I was in the first place?
Before I could answer, a couple more people stopped. Then a few more.They stared at me with surprised, curious gazes.
The woman's nose twitched. Her brows flicked upward.
Was she... sniffing me?
Then her eyes widened. What on earth was wrong with these people—
You smell like Alistair Reed.
Oh shit. I felt heat rush to my face as my heart thumped in my chest.
Were they smelling their Alpha on me? They were! Liam wasn't messing with me?
I mumbled "Excuse me" to no one in particular, spun on my heel, and started walking straight back toward the exit.
Too embarrassing. I couldn't stand there while a dozen people with super noses sniffed their Alpha all over me like I was marked territory. There was no reason for that.
I was almost at the doors when I collided hard with someone's chest.
Ow.
My forehead smacked a button. I hissed, shuffled back, already muttering an apology, and tried to sidestep toward freedom.
A hand settled gently on my shoulder.
I looked up.
Alistair Reed.
Kill. Me. Now. Of course it's him! Why did it had to be him?
"You're a bit red," he said, calm as ever, ever so observant.
Before I could die of mortification, he used the hand on my shoulder to turn me around...cutting off my escape.
"I got you coffee," he added.
Then his hand slid to the small of my back—light, steady—and he ushered me forward through the lobby.
I almost shrank into myself from the embarrassment of all those eyes on me. My body went rigid, instinctively leaning back—like I was trying to mold into him, to disappear.
Alistair sighed softly.
Then, suddenly, the staff—almost as if broken from a trance—looked away and resumed their work.
Just like that, as if there was a silent command that couldn't reach my ears.
Then without taking his hand off my back, Alistair guided me toward the elevator.
To my new desk. Our office.