chapter 9
The two weeks went by too quickly.
Ferial stood outside the factory gates, clutching her pass card a little too tightly. The building looked the same — grey walls, faded signage, the smell of oil and metal drifting from the loading bay — yet somehow she felt different, like the two weeks at home had shifted something inside her.
Her stomach twisted.
“Two weeks,” she muttered under her breath. “It was only two weeks.”
But with the Alpha’s inspection, the tension in the district, and the strange, heavy way the Alpha heir’s eyes had locked on her that morning… it felt like she had stepped out of her life and come back to a different version of it.
She pushed through the entrance.
The security guard glanced up and did a double take. “Eh! Look who’s alive.”
“I was gone, not dead,” she said dryly, scanning her card.
He grinned. “Same thing in this place.”
Inside, the familiar clatter of machinery and workers moving across the floor filled the air. People paused when they saw her — some nodded, some whispered, some pretended they didn’t notice. Two weeks was long enough for rumors to grow legs and run.
She headed toward her workstation—
“Ferial!”
She startled. Her supervisor, Mr. Colton, a werewolf, was walking toward her with a relieved smile. A smile. On his face. A man who didn’t smile even when someone brought cake. And definitely did not smile with a human.
“You’re back,” he said, almost warmly.
She blinked. “Um… yes?”
“We were worried,” he said. “I didn’t think you’d come back.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Why not?”
He hesitated.
Then lowered his voice. “Because the Alpha came here.”
Ferial’s heart stuttered. “The… Alpha?”
He nodded. “The Supreme Alpha. Himself. Walked into this factory last week and asked for you by name. Wanted to ensure you were being given your leave properly.”
Her blood turned to ice.
“Why… why would he do that?” she whispered.
Mr. Colton shrugged. “No idea, but he spoke to the manager for a long time. Everyone was shocked. Since when do Alphas care about human employees?”
They didn’t.
They never did.
Her pulse thudded in her ears. Why would the Supreme Alpha—the father of the Alpha heir—care about her? Unless—
No. No, she refused to let her mind go there.
She forced her voice to stay steady. “Was it bad?”
“No, actually.” He smiled again. “They told us to mark your leave as fully paid.”
Her eyes widened. “Fully?”
“Even the days you didn’t work.” He tapped her arm lightly. “Welcome back, girl. Clearly someone up there wants you alive.”
She tried to laugh, but it came out shaky. “Lucky me.”
As she settled into her station, she could feel eyes on her — curious, suspicious, confused. But everyone was too busy with quotas and deadlines to ask questions outright.
Still, whispers followed her all day.
Why her? Why would the Alpha care about her leave?
Did she meet someone?
Was she in trouble?
She kept her head down.
The day passed slowly.
By the time her shift ended, her feet ached and her shoulders were tight from stress, but she was grateful for the distraction of work — something to anchor her mind so it didn’t spiral.
She waved goodbye to a few coworkers and stepped outside.
Most workers traveled home in groups. Safety in numbers.
But Abdie had gone to help a neighbor fix wiring, and she didn’t feel like waiting around.
So she walked alone.
The northern part of the district was quieter at this hour, the sky shifting into deep blue, street lamps flickering awake. The air smelled faintly of smoke and bread from the bakery on the corner.
She turned down a long road that stretched almost empty.
That’s when she saw them.
A line of wolves in military fatigues running drills deeper up the street. Their movements were precise, sharp, each step echoing off the abandoned factory walls. They were training in formation — not unusual, but not common in her area either.
And at the front—
Her breath caught.
It was him.
The Alpha heir.
Tall, broad-shouldered, hair tied back, his shirt clinging to him with sweat, muscles cut and defined with every movement. His eyes were fixed ahead, his focus razor-sharp.
He barked an order, voice deep and commanding. The wolves shifted instantly.
Ferial froze in the shadows.
She didn’t want to see him again. Not like this.
Not when his gaze earlier had already followed her through her dreams, unsettling and intense.
She stepped back slowly… carefully…
His head turned.
For a split second, she thought he sensed her.
Because his nostrils flared.
His shoulders stiffened.
Then—his eyes locked directly onto her.
She felt it physically. Like a punch to the chest.
She gasped.
The wolves running behind him stumbled, confused, as his attention shifted sharply away from the drill. He took one step forward, slow, deliberate, gaze never breaking from her.
Her heart hammered.
She turned quickly and kept walking, forcing her legs to stay calm, casual, steady—
But she could feel him watching. Burning holes into her back.
She didn’t dare look again.
Not when her pulse was thundering so loud she could hear it.
Not when the air felt heavier with every step she took.
She had just reached the next street when loud shouts erupted behind her.
“What happened?”
“What’s going on?”
She spun.
Wolf patrol vehicles screeched into the street, lights flashing. People poked their heads out of windows. Some ran inside. Others whispered.
Something had triggered an alert.
And the wolves were mobilizing fast.
A patrol car cut across her path, forcing her back toward the previous street — toward the running drills, toward him.
Ferial lifted her hands instinctively. “I’m just trying to get home—”
“Stay where you are!” an officer barked.
The Alpha heir emerged from the training area, walking toward the commotion.
And toward her.
The patrols parted instantly, making way for him.
His eyes landed on her again, sharper this time, more aware, more… something. She couldn’t identify it, but it made her stomach twist and her breath shorten.
“What’s the disturbance?” he asked the officers, voice like steel.
“Perimeter breach alert,” one answered. “Unauthorized movement near the training zone.”
The Alpha heir’s eyes narrowed.
Ferial realized — horrifically — that the “unauthorized movement”… was probably her.
Because she had been walking alone near the restricted side of the road.
Because she had been the only human nearby.
Because of course her bad luck would pick that moment to shine.
One officer pointed toward her.
“Sir, she was coming from that direction.”
Ferial’s blood went ice-cold.
The Alpha heir stepped closer to her.
Closer.
Too close.
She felt his presence like heat on her skin.
“Were you near the training grounds?” he asked, voice low, intense.
She swallowed hard. “I was just walking home from work.”
His eyes scanned her face — searching, assessing, reading her like an open book.
She hated that her breath shook.
One patrol wolf leaned in. “Should we detain her for questioning?”
“No.”
The word came instantly.
Sharp.
Final.
The officer blinked, startled. “…Yes, sir.”
The Alpha heir didn’t take his eyes off her.
For a long moment, they just stood there — him staring, her frozen in place — the air charged with something she couldn’t name.
Then he said, quietly:
“You shouldn’t walk alone.”
Her pulse jumped. “I wasn’t— I mean, I’m fine.”
His jaw tensed. “You’re not.”
Her stomach flipped.
He took one more step forward… and she felt her breath catch in her throat.
Then—
A crackle from a radio.
“Breach resolved. False alarm.”
The patrols relaxed.
The Alpha heir didn’t.
He kept watching her, expression unreadable.
Finally, he took a slow step backward, eyes still locked on hers, before turning to his soldiers.
“Continue training.”
They obeyed instantly.
He didn’t look back again.
But as she hurried away, breath shaking, she felt it:
This wasn’t over.
Whatever had begun the moment he first looked at her that morning…
Whatever had pulled him toward her more than once now…
Whatever made him deny the order to detain her…
It was growing.
And soon?
She wouldn’t be able to pretend it was nothing.