TRIGGER WARNINGS
This story contains elements that may be sensitive to some readers. This includes gore, graphic sexual tension, murder, language, angst, death, and a steamy romance you may have to take a cold shower after reading. Nothing in this story is based on reality and has been created for entertainment purposes only. With that in mind, keep your mental health a priority and enjoy this emotional, spicy werewolf romance...
Elodie's POV
"Do you mind?" The mindless tapping of my foot came to an abrupt stop as I fixed my nervous tick and readjusted in the stiff chair supporting my nerves. No matter the position of my crossed legs or the angle of my hips searching for comfort, all I could focus on was how fraudulent I felt even being here. There wasn't a soul in sight who spent less than my life's income on basic upkeep between expensive suits and believable hair extensions, all while I sat for a job interview in borrowed lipstick and thrift clothes. Still, I was determined to prove to myself that I could do this. Even if the biggest motivation was that of the paycheck teased as a ballpark in the advertisement.
I tried to still after being left waiting for forty-five minutes. Never glancing at my phone as I didn't want to feed into the theory of Gen-x's being addicted to their phones, I simply distracted myself in my surroundings. With little art and even less friendly faces, I became immersed in the top line of a wilderness magazine I was stuck rereading and the intricate pattern of the walls that felt as if they were closing me in with each passing second. Theorizing another five minutes wouldn't matter, I stood to a fresh destination and to the coffee kiosk I saw when first entering.
Ordering my usual coffee with more cream than caffeine, I turned to reclaim that seat I was certain had shaped to my rear. I wasn't able to even get it in my line of sight before a force crushed my disposable coffee cup between us both.
"Dammit..." A grunt lifted my eyes from the quick stain between us and to the man exasperated with a first meeting. Maybe this could have been considered a meet-cute in any other circumstance, but for a man like Grey Alluna, it was a demerit against me written clearly between the furrow of his brow. A pair of piercing eyes made me apologetic for everything that was on the top of my tongue, refusing to come out.
"Are you going to stare at me or apologize for ruining my suit?" His arrogance would usually be a means for my eyes to roll and my heels to point away from him as I provided the distance between us. Instead, I gave a generic and soft apology as I began to dab the latte from his cobalt cotton all because I wanted to be able to pay my bills by month's end.
"I'm sorry Mister-"
"Please tell me you aren't the new intern. I swear they hire anyone, butterfingers and all..." I repressed a glare and recycled any rebuttal into professionalism. If anything, to spite him.
"Actually, I'm here to interview as your assistant." I spoke the words weakly, fixing my tone into one of confidence as I continued, "I've been waiting since eight..." His eyes narrowed as if testing my believability before nodding.
"Right this way then." Without offering a hand or much more than a sigh, he ascended through a series of steps that were seen from the waiting room, every pair of curious eyes narrowing at us, before we came to an office encased by shutter-covered glass. The second I entered, he released the button of his sleeves at the end of either arm as I sat across from him.
"Am I supposed to guess your name?"
"Oh, uh...Elodie. Carson." I bit the inside of my bottom lip as his eyes flickered there for only a second before wearing back to my eyes.
"Are you not sure or trying to convince yourself?" Before I could respond, he carried on, "If you have any hope of making it out of the small town you're desperate to prove yourself you don't belong in, take a piece of advice and get some confidence. I doubt you can even go through a drive-thru without trembling." He scoffed.
"I-"
"You can see yourself out. I have faith you can figure it out." He dismissed me without a second thought as he moved immediately to his phone and paged his current assistant. Frustrated, I situated myself to stand, but not to leave. Instead, I pressed a finger over the cancel button.
"Excuse me-"
"I have been waiting for almost an hour. I think you can at least look at my resume...Sir..." His jaw cocked as he motioned for me to sit. He shook his head in a scoff before something caught his attention on my offering. His eyes flicked upwards for only a moment.
"Why do you want to work here?"
"Because I want to be able to make my rent." I spoke honestly. "I have student debt I won't even be able to make a dent in by the time I'm halfway through my life and I want to do something that matters. Something unexpected."
He assessed my answer before setting my file back in front of him.
"Then I suggest you start looking somewhere more accustomed to half-assed attempts and bad first impressions." Before I could respond, he beat me to it, speaking through the intercom of his phone. "Lydia, will you see to it that Miss," He looked back at my file. "Carson gets out of the building without incident. And for God's sake, don't let her stop by the kiosk for another coffee."
I was in shock where I sat, waiting for some realization of humanity to fall over his stoic features. Somewhere between stressed and graceful came hard lines and cruel secrets hidden in the coming crow's feet of steady eyes. Haunted eyes. Worn with his own demons.
"Do I need to embarrass you by calling security to make my point, Miss Carson? You are not a fit here. You are problematic in grace, to say the least, not to mention confidence and a contradicting arrogance that is gravelly misplaced."
"You're nothing like they said you'd be." My words made his brows rise.
"And what would that be?"
"Hardworking and compassionate. But you're nothing more than a bully who thinks every girl, man, and child will be beneath his thumb because your name is etched into a skyscraper that will be forgotten in fifty years' time. And based on your human contact skills, I'd say even sooner."
"Miss Carson-"
"I may not be fresh off the Harvard Dean's list or know what Chanel skirt to wear on Tuesdays but I have enough decency to be nice to someone even when they are unaware the world doesn't revolve around them."
"You act like you want my approval and yet insult me. If you feel so strongly, why try to stay as my assistant?"
"I don't want her job," I motioned to the double doors behind me. "I want yours." With this, I stormed from the room before slipping into a frustrated gait. I muttered to myself for the better part of twenty minutes before realizing I had taken too many wrong turns. Reaching for my phone to search for a route home, I realized I'd left it at the office. Having set it down during my rant, probably on his desk with my feminine case tainting his masculine atmosphere. A small sense of pride remained in the thought of him being reminded of my words. Even if only to have to discard something of me again.
Refusing to return, I became lost in the back alleys of my new city, learning that there were a million different ways citizens learned to dispose of garbage that didn't include the dumpsters overflowing nearby. Broken bottles crunched beneath my feet as I tried to make it back to the heart of civilization, only to come upon another pointless crevice of two more closed businesses. Eventually with roaring soles and withering hope, I turned to come back the way I came before noting a shadow at the end of the street. Identifiable enough to be a silhouette encased in a hooded sweatshirt, I turned back once more before finding a twinning figure blocking me that way as well.
My overactive imagination made up scenarios that would be of no help in the magnitude of things. For it, I focused on a way out instead. But with either silhouette taking up the only viable exits, I knew my only option was that of a nearby ladder. As raggedy as it may seem, it was better than playing off a mercy they clearly wouldn't give. The second I reached for the first rung of the ladder, their quick steps joined in unison at my back. It left no doubt in my mind that they meant me harm and with the wicked smiles I caught while looking back to see my chances, they had no intention of leaving me in any state to describe them to authorities.
I crested the roof, my ankle caught in a clammy hold I was able to shake off with the brunt force of another foot. Losing my shoe in the process, I was forced to endure the cold roofing while searching for a place to evade them. But they were too close, breathing heavily enough to hear how they were almost sympatico with each other. Without a weapon or a phone, the only thing I had on my side had been that of my voice. Without a second thought, I belted in hopes of being heard over distant horns and the busy lifestyles of what it took to afford to live here. But they only smirked at me before lunging. I twisted as if I had an alternate route but one pair of arms pulled me back as the other dodged my kicks and curses.
"Fiesty, I like her." One teased as his voice held an accent somewhere on the Eastern seaboard while the strength of the second was debilitating. He only responded with a grunt as I was taken to the ground.
"We don't have to hurt you if you just keep still." He struggled to speak as I never stilled, even as the one straddled my hips. My knees attempted to rise and my nails threatened to scratch, but nothing beneficial came from my attempts. Instead, they seemed to admire my attempts before producing rope.
"HELP! SOMEONE! ANYONE!" My pleas were silenced with a gag made of some unknown cloth before my hands were tied and I was taken over the larger one's shoulder. Descending the latter without a care of decency for my skirt or the comfort of my positioning, I waited to struggle until there wasn't a danger of cracking my head open on the cement below. The second I could, I began to wiggle again, only to be met with a pull of the rope as it tensed harder on my wrists.
"Be a good little bitch and maybe we'll let you feel something other than pain before-"
"Let her go." Three simple words might as well have been spoken by angels as my attention came to a familiar silhouette wearing a hero complex, even highlighted by the nearby haze of smoke to be entirely cinematic.
"This doesn't concern you, mutt."
"My territory, my concern." He took a step forward, enough to recognize him in the backlight.
"We might even let you have a piece if you ask nicely..." My hair was taken in a grasp and pulled back to expose my neck. My attempted hero clenched his knuckles before breathing heavily enough to overhear.
"Leaving a witness is more dangerous than leaving a body...You would know this if you weren't a disappointment to us."
"Let her go or you won't get the chance again."
"Please...Like you would-" Suddenly the grip loosened as I was tossed to the side, forced against a stone wall where my forehead met an untimely kiss to the hard structure. Any remaining control I had over myself came in trying not to meet with the concrete beneath as I failed with another blow coming to the side of my head. But with just enough time to look upwards to see what should have been impossible, but was still unmistakable.
The man who has convinced Chicago of his ruthless but fair reputation was no man at all. At least not at this moment. Instead, his suit was covered in a layer of hair that was formerly set shapely atop his head. Midnight tresses covered formerly toned skin that had doubled in size and were more canine than human. A pair of cerulean eyes rose to me and narrowed in threat. My feet began in spring before I could make more of the new reality before me. And without the chance to truly understand, he pounced, and painted the alley crimson.