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A Wolf in Waiter's Clothing
Last Updated:
2025-04-01 02:36:17
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Piper’sThe door clicks shut behind me, and I lean against it, exhaling the frustration I’ve been nursing all night. I’m ready to hurl my heels across the room when my gaze catches on something huge leaning against the far wall."What the hell?" I murmur, straightening up. Wrapped in shimmering decorative paper and tied with an oversized crimson bow, the package looks ridiculously out of place in my room.Curiosity replaces my anger. I walk toward it, fingers itching to tear off the wrapping. "Who even…?" I trail off as I grab the edge of the bow, yanking it loose.The paper crinkles under my hands as I tear it away, my heart already racing with anticipation.And then there it is—the wolf painting.I freeze, staring at it in awe. Its piercing, haunting eyes seem to lock onto mine, just as they had back at the exhibition. I’d fallen in love with this painting then, aching to own it but knowing I could never afford it.Now, here it is, in my room."Did I say screw the painting?" I whisp
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Piper"Your eyes… they’re gold," I stammer, taking a step back. The cold wind bites at my skin, but it’s the fear prickling along my arms that truly chills me. "Just like the painting."Elijah’s lips curl into a smirk, but it’s strained, his jaw tightening slightly. "Do you like the painting? Told you Santa would grant your wish." His voice is smooth, but I can tell he’s deflecting, steering me away from whatever just happened to his eyes.But how can I let it go? One moment, his eyes were a calm, vivid blue; the next, they were molten gold, alive and burning like fire. My chest tightens as questions pile up. What the hell is he hiding?"I… I do like it," I manage, folding my arms against the sudden cold, though it does little to steady my shaking hands. "The painting is beautiful. I just wanted to thank the CEO. He’s been so generous—the dress, the painting—it’s worth more than I’ll ever have in my life."A low growl rumbles from Elijah’s chest, vibrating through the air between us.
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Zoe hums softly to herself, her back to me as she meticulously arranges my clothes in the spacious wardrobe as though every piece needs to be in just the right place. The faint scent of lavender and fresh linen fills the room, mingling with the subtle tension in the air.Her hands pause for a moment as she looks over the space she’s created, leaving enough room for when she plans to shop for her own things. She’s been like this since morning—fidgety and paranoid, constantly glancing at the door as if Zack might burst in at any second. After last night, I can’t blame her.She woke me up in the middle of the night, her face pale and drenched in sweat. She’d had a nightmare—one so vivid and terrifying that she’d begged me, on her knees, to stay in her new room with her. I didn’t even hesitate. I agreed, and by morning, she was already busy helping me pack my things and move them from my old room to hers.Now, we’re in her new suite on the fifth floor, and I can admit it’s a huge upgrade.
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PiperI haven’t eaten. I haven’t slept. My body is running on nothing but nerves and guilt. Ever since the director carried Zoe out of that blood-soaked room, I foolishly stayed out of his way, assuming they needed privacy. But now… now, I have no idea where she is.What was I thinking, trusting her safety to a man again? Even if he is the director of the hotel, there’s something off about him. The way his eyes burned red, the way his anger felt almost… feral. He reminds me of someone.Elijah.The thought of him claws its way into my mind, and suddenly I want to see him. His infuriating smirk, his cryptic remarks that always kept me guessing, even the way he always seemed to show up when I least expected him. Oddly enough, I miss him. And maybe… maybe he could help me. If anyone could figure out where the director is keeping Zoe, it would be Elijah since he works here.But a chilling thought strikes me: I don’t know where he stays. I don’t know where he sleeps. I know nothing about th
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I keep my gaze fixed on Elijah, searching his face for any crack in his composure, signs of discomfort or unease. His expression is unreadable—calm, almost too calm—and it’s starting to grate on my nerves. I repeat my question softly but firmly."Do you believe in werewolves?"For a moment, his face remains perfectly still, like he’s weighing his next move. Then there’s the smallest twitch at the corner of his mouth followed by a long, loaded pause.His silence is telling.A normal person like me would have laughed, scoffed, or brushed it off and said, Of course not. But Elijah? His stillness betrays him. He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t dismiss the absurdity. If anything, his blood seems to run cold, and for a brief second, I see a flicker of something in his eyes—fear, or maybe recognition, which tells me that he does, in fact, believe.Finally, he breaks the silence with a smirk, though it feels more like a mask than a genuine expression as it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, I belie
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The words blur on the page as my hands tremble, and I slam the book shut with a loud thud. The sound echoes in the quiet room, startling me. My heart races, my palms are clammy, and my chest feels tight.No. No, no, no. This isn’t real. It can’t be real.Werewolves? Elijah? No. This is insane. It’s ridiculous. I shake my head vehemently, as if trying to physically dispel the thought.“He’s a man,” I whisper, pacing the length of the room. “Just a man. Not… not some creature that turns into a wolf under the full moon.”I let out a dry laugh, sharp and humorless. “Get a grip, Piper.” My voice wavers as I try to steady myself. “You’re reading too much into this. There’s a logical explanation for everything.There has to be.”But even as I say it, my mind rebels. Logical explanation? For what? His eyes? The growl? The way he disappears into the forest, moving like it’s his home—like he’s part of it?I stop pacing, my gaze falling back to the book, dread curling in my stomach. Slowly, I reo
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Elijah’s POV I arrive at the location, my jaw tightening the moment I recognize it. Of course, it had to be here—our father’s mansion. The man barely sets foot in the human world anymore, but this place still reeks of memories I’d rather bury six feet under. I should’ve known Nicholas would run straight to the only man who ever indulged his darkness. I don’t bother knocking. The front door is unlocked, swinging open with an eerie creak. The house is silent, unnaturally so, like no one’s lived here in years. But I know better. The stench of death lingers in the air, unmistakable, leading me like a beacon. Nicholas. I follow the scent, step after step, down the long, dimly lit hallway. My fingers itch to unsheath my claws, but I force them to stay human. I don’t need my wolf for this—I just need to end it. Then, I see the door slightly ajar at the end of the hall. My heartbeat slows, steady and controlled, as I push it open. Nicholas sits slumped in a chair, his head hanging low,
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Elijah stands at the head of the dining table, looking effortlessly handsome. My parents pause for a moment, taking him in, and I don’t miss the way my mother’s breath hitches, or the way Paige’s eyes widen slightly.I smirk, stepping forward. “Mum, Dad, meet my mate—”I catch my slip and quickly correct myself. “I mean, my husband.”Elijah’s lips twitch with amusement as he extends a hand. “Elijah,” he introduces himself smoothly, his deep voice like silk. His gaze is sharp yet undeniably charming. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”My mother stares at him like he’s a god. “He’s so… handsome.” She exhales shakily. “I’ve never seen anyone with such deep blue eyes…”I flick my gaze to Paige, whose jaw is slightly slack as she drinks in Elijah’s presence. A slow smirk spreads across my face as I lean back. “What about Greg?” I ask innocently. “Didn’t invite him for dinner? Oh, I bet he’s too busy running away with Mum and Dad’s fortune.” I laugh, a sharp, hollow sound, wiping an imagina
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The bar is dimly lit, filled with the stale scent of alcohol and desperation. I weave through the crowd, my sharp gaze scanning every face, every shadowed corner.Then I hear it.A sharp, sickening slap.My ears perk up, my werewolf senses sharpening, and the unmistakable sound of a man's leering voice cuts through the noisy bar.“Come on, sweetheart. Just be nice to me.”“No—let go of me!” a familiar voice protests, laced with exhaustion and humiliation.I snap my head in the direction of the voice and my breath catches in my throat when I see her.Paige.But she’s unrecognizable. Her once-bright blonde hair is dull and faded, her face hollow and tired, her once-proud stance reduced to something small and beaten down. She looks like a ghost of herself.A filthy man with a bulging stomach and greasy hands grips her arm, his fingers digging into her skin as he smirks down at her. His other hand lifts again, about to strike—I move.Before his hand makes contact, I shoot forward with in
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Elijah takes my hands, his thumb running slowly over my knuckles."Are you ready?"We stand before his massive black wolf painting, the creature’s eyes glowing faintly, watching us—as if aware, as if waiting. This journey is different. This time we are leaving Zoe and Ryder in charge of the pack until we return.I swallow, my gaze flickering to the new painting beside it—my wolf. My own portal to the human world. It still feels surreal knowing I now have access to both worlds. No longer just a human. No longer powerless."Yeah… just nervous," I admit.Elijah’s lips curl into a soft smile. "You’ll be fine, my Luna."His voice drops to a low, melodic hum as he begins to chant, the ancient words rolling off his tongue like a song only wolves understand."Na'vethar ka vethril, se'reythar ka mor'zhil dharani."(Open the gate, reveal the path to the mortal realm.)The moment the words leave his lips, the painting in front of us trembles, the canvas rippling like water disturbed by a stone.
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Elijah Two weeks have passed, and yet, I still replay that moment in my head—Piper standing in front of my pack members, fierce and unyielding, defending me with every ounce of fire in her. My mate. My Luna.I should have forced them all to their knees, made them submit with my Alpha command, or cast them out into the streets for their disrespect. But I didn’t. Because I understand their frustration. I know why they acted the way they did. And that’s the difference between a tyrant and a true leader.That doesn’t mean my patience isn’t wearing thin.Right now, I’m sitting at the head of the long council table, my fingers drumming against the polished wood, as the elders argue amongst themselves like a bunch of squabbling hens. My jaw tightens. They’ve been pushing me, testing me, thinking I’ll break under their bullshit.Elder Marcus, the smug bastard, leans forward with a smirk. "Alpha Elijah, the two weeks are up. There has been no announcement of a pregnancy, which means—""Which
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PiperThe crowd erupts into laughter—not just a few chuckles or scattered snickers, but a full-blown roar of amusement, as if I’ve just told the most ridiculous joke of the century.The elderly woman who spoke first sneers, her wrinkled face twisting with disdain. “Respect?” she repeats mockingly. “Alpha Elijah doesn’t deserve our respect anymore. He abandoned us for five years—five years while the curse took hold of our people. And now, he waltzes back in as if nothing happened?" Her gaze shifts to Elijah, her expression a mix of contempt and sorrow. "Where was he when we needed him?"The hostility in the air is suffocating.Elijah’s jaw clenches, but he remains silent. Beside him, Ryder looks ready to pounce, his hands curled into tight fists at the blatant disrespect toward his Alpha.Another elder, a man with a hunched back and eyes clouded with age but still burning with resentment, raises his voice. "We suffered. How many years have passed without us seeing our children and gran
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Piper’s POVLast night was hell.Even with the walls separating us, I could hear Zoe crying. The sound of it seeped into my bones, and no matter how much I tried to shut it out, it clung to me, thick and heavy. Her pain was suffocating. My heart ached for her, and I cried too—maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or maybe it was just because I couldn’t stand hearing her break like that.When I woke up, my eyes were swollen, and my head pounding from the lack of sleep. Elijah had told me Ryder finally broke the news to Zoe about her babies, and since then, she hadn’t stopped crying. At one point, I even wished I wasn’t a werewolf, that I was still human—because then I wouldn’t have to hear every gut-wrenching sob.Now, as I step out into the cold morning air, I wipe my swollen eyes and make my way toward the entrance of the Luna Court. Elijah had told me we’d be leaving today, that I didn’t need to pack—not that I had much to begin with. Honestly, I was relieved to leave this place behi
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Piper’s POVI sprint down the hallway, my breaths coming in sharp, panicked bursts. The walls blur past me, the thick scent of antiseptic and blood clinging to the air, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop.Please, let Zoe be okay. Let the babies survive.The thought of her lifeless, her babies lost forever to Serena’s dark magic, squeezes my heart, making it harder to breathe.I push through the clinic doors, and the sight before me makes my stomach drop.Zoe lies on the hospital bed, pale and fragile, her body covered in wires and IV drips. Ryder is sitting beside her, his large hand cradling hers, his thumb gently stroking her skin as if his touch alone could keep her anchored to this world.A sob escapes my lips before I can stop it.Ryder’s head snaps up, his tired eyes meeting mine. His face is etched with grief, exhaustion lining every sharp angle of his jaw. He bows his head slightly in acknowledgement before pressing a lingering kiss to Zoe’s knuckles. Then, he carefully places her
Alpha Santa The Last Breath of Evil
Her scream reverberates through the walls, sending my heart into a frenzied rhythm. But I stay pressed against the cold surface, keeping up the act.Serena glares, her chest rising and falling. “I have lived a thousand years,” she hisses. “And I am so close to becoming truly immortal. If I have to destroy all of you a thousand times to get there, then so be it.”She gestures toward Zoe with a flick of her wrist. “Your friend and her unborn children? They’ll give me, what? A hundred years at most? But you, Piper…”She steps closer, her cold breath ghosting against my skin.“The baby growing inside of you… your soul…” She smirks, her voice dropping to a whisper, laced with something dark and triumphant. “That will unlock my immortality.”My entire body goes still.Did she just say…?I have a baby growing inside me?I’m pregnant? Right now?Fuck.A lump rises in my throat as I lift my gaze to Zoe. She meets my eyes with a tired, sad smile—a silent congratulations, though she looks like s
