Chapter 3

Willow POV

By the time the sun rises the next day, I am already dragging ass.  My night spent in the tree was an uncomfortable one.  The Rogue Alpha's men searched for me until the wee hours of the morning.  I barely had enough time to get home and changed to head to my day job. 

Checking the watch on my wrist, I have five minutes to get up to the top floor of the building.  The elevator takes at least three minutes if I am alone.  Bursting through the front doors of the central building in the center of Lycan City, I see a crowd of people waiting for the elevator. 

"Fuck," I mumble under my breath.  I am going to be late.  Uncle Faris is going to have a fit.

The she-wolf at the front desk looks at me with amusement in her eyes.  "I don't think you are going to make it in time, Lo," she laughs. 

"Fuck you, Amy," I hiss back at her, and she clutches her chest and feigns heartbreak.   

Looking from the stairs to the crowd in front of the elevator, I kick off my shoes and run for the stairs.  "You are never going to make it," Amy yells after me. 

Throwing up my middle finger, I wave it in her direction before I push open the door open to the stairs and begin to run up them.  It is only ten flights, how long could it possibly take me? 

As I reach the fifth floor, I realize what a mistake I have made.  I am already a minute late, and I know Uncle Faris isn't going to hear any of my excuses.  It won't matter that I was propped up in a tree all night long because of a job that turned out to be a trap.  Once again, I will look like the irresponsible niece of the Lycan King. 

Finally, I burst through the door to the tenth floor.  I rest my hands on my knees and breathe in heavily.  Catching my reflection in the glass of Uncle Faris's office, I cringe.  My hair has fallen out of its usually neat ponytail, my face is flushed, and my pencil skirt is crumpled. 

Running to the bathroom as fast as I can, I try to salvage what I can of my outfit.  Taking off my gloves, I quickly wet down my hair and throw it into a messy bun.  It will have to do for the day.  Twisting from side to side in the mirror, I check myself over before reaching for my gloves. 

Just as I am about to slide them back onto my hands, the bathroom door swings open, and Lauren walks in.  "Well, well, well," she sneers at me.  "What do we have here?  The germaphobe actually took off her gloves?" 

"Screw you, Lauren," I say as I roll my eyes at her, but she takes the opportunity to rip one of my gloves out of my hands. 

"Such language for the daughter of the Princess," Lauren laughs as she runs my glove through her fingers. 

"Lauren," I say with my sweetest voice.  "Can you please return my glove?  I need to get back to work." 

"You know what?" Lauren laughs.  "I don't think I will.  It will be good for you to get your hands dirty for the day." 

Reaching for the glove, my bare hand brushes up against Lauren's.  My vision goes black, and I am suddenly transported to a different time and location.  

I am in a darkened room that is filled with the sounds of moaning and skin slapping against each other.  Quickly, I close my eyes, not wanting to see what is unfolding in front of me, but it is too late.  The King's Beta, Chad, has Lauren bent over his bed.

Quickly I jerk my hand back from Lauren, and the executive bathroom comes back into focus.  Black spots continue to fill my vision, and I become lightheaded.  Swaying on my feet, I try to reach for my glove, but I stumble forward. 

Lauren rushes from the bathroom, presumably to not get caught with my body when I finally lose consciousness.  Grasping onto the walls, I try to fight through the intruding darkness in my vision.  I finally find the door and pull it open.  I am only able to take one step out of the bathroom before I fall to the ground, and the darkness overtakes me. 

"Where is her other fucking glove?" I hear Uncle Faris scream as my vision comes back.

Resting my bare hand against my head, I sit up from the ground and try to look around.  Uncle Faris is sitting behind me, with my head resting on his lap.  He is careful to avoid contact with my hands as he brushes my hair out of my face. 

"You look like shit," he muses as he helps me to my feet. 

"Thank you for your concern," I mutter under my breath. 

"Where is your other glove?"  Uncle Faris asks me seriously.

I look around the office at the number of people that are staring at me.  Among them is Lauren, and she has a guilty look spread across her face.  But knowing that she has the Beta in her back pocket, I decide not to stir up any more trouble than necessary. 

"I must have forgotten it at home," I mumble, and Faris gives me an odd look.  He knows better than to think that I have forgotten it at home.  My gloves are a part of my wardrobe that I never forget.  The price is too high if I were to accidentally touch someone.  It is a price that only a few people know about, Uncle Faris being one of them. 

Since the visions manifested at sixteen, Faris has been using me here and there to get information from those that will not give it freely.  Only I cannot control what I see.  Sometimes I can get the information that the Lycan King needs.  Other times I see the family members of those who are being tortured, especially those that are close to death.  I am forced to watch every happy moment they had with their families before my uncle dispatches them. My best guess is that I see what is on their minds at the present moment.

But with every power comes a cost, and mine is to blackout for however long I am in their mind.  It is a deserving punishment for meddling in someone's business. 

I sway a little on my feet as I make my way over to my desk and pull out one of my many spare pairs of gloves from the locked drawer.  I stretch my fingers against the leather of the gloves, and the panic that had risen in my chest subsides.

Grabbing my tablet off of my desk, I quickly make my way into the Lycan King's office.  I mumble my apologizes for being late, and my uncle waves for his Beta to leave the office. 

Chad leaves the office with a smirk on his lips.  He has made how he feels about me working within Lycan City known.  Because I am neither a werewolf nor a lycan, Chad doesn't believe that I should be the King's personal assistant.  Interestingly enough, he believes that Lauren would be best suited for my position.  I cannot help but wonder how Chad's mate would feel about the whole situation. 

"You have been reckless as of late," my uncle begins to scold me. 

"Reckless?" I widen my eyes in shock. 

"First, you set that warehouse on fire last night, and now this," Faris accuses me of two things that I had no control over.

"I didn't set the warehouse on fire," I respond as I cock my head to the side. 

"You expect me to believe that they burned their own warehouse?" Uncle Faris raises an eyebrow at me. 

"It wasn't me," I try to defend myself.  "It wasn't part of the plan.  When have I ever deviated from the plan?" 

Suddenly Faris straightens behind his desk and places several documents in the top drawer of his desk. "We will discuss this later," Faris tells me.  "My nine o'clock appointment is here."

Looking down at my tablet, I scroll through the appointments on the calendar.  "You don't have an appointment at nine."

Before my uncle has a chance to respond, his office door swings open, and Chad is leading in a carbon copy of a Greek God, and his eyes are focused directly on me.