chapter 18
Morning shifts were always rough.
Morning shifts after you’d been stared at by the Alpha heir like you were a malfunctioning security threat were worse.
Ferial clocked in at the factory half-asleep, hair tied up messily, uniform slightly wrinkled because she fell asleep in it.
Abdie walked beside her, yawning loudly enough to shake the dust from the ceiling.
“If I die today,” he said, “tell my mother I died because of wolves. She’ll believe it.”
Ferial sighed. “Relax. Maybe today will be normal.”
“You said that yesterday.”
“…and the day before.”
“And now look. We’re part-time cleaners at wolf headquarters.”
She shoved him lightly. “It was two days only.”
“Two days too much!”
But today… something was different.
People were staring at them.
A group of her coworkers whispered when she passed.
Then someone called out:
“Ferial! Your boyfriend’s patrol is outside!”
Her soul left her body.
Abdie barked out a laugh, “Boyfriend?! Which one?! She has MANY—”
Ferial slapped his arm. “I hate you.”
Sure enough, outside the factory entrance, two enforcers were waiting for the “cleanup crew.”
Ferial dragged her feet on the walk to the command center.
Abdie whispered, “If he jokes again today, I’m filing a complaint.”
“To who?”
“To someone. Anyone. A tree. I don’t care.”
---
TODAY’S TASK: THE MESS HALL AGAIN
They were assigned to clean tables, mop floors, and refill the long rows of water jugs lined along the wall.
The mess hall was loud with wolf chatter, metal trays clanking, officers exchanging intel, and the occasional scolding growl.
Ferial tried to blend in with the furniture.
Then the door opened.
Of course it did.
Because fate hated her.
The Alpha heir walked in, surrounded by his officers, discussing the return-to-capital arrangements.
He didn’t see her at first.
Good.
Good—
Then he did.
Not good.
His eyes paused on her for a fraction of a second.
And even that was too much.
Abdie, seeing this, whispered, “No. No. NO. Why is he looking like he knows you? You don’t KNOW him. Ferial. STOP KNOWING HIM.”
“Shut UP,” she hissed.
They kept working, or tried to.
Abdie swept the floor aggressively. Ferial wiped down tables like they carried plague.
The Alpha heir sat with his officers at the long main table, discussing reports. His second-in-command placed a tray in front of him.
Everything was normal.
Then—
“Ferial.”
He didn’t raise his voice.
He didn’t need to.
The entire hall went silent anyway.
Ferial froze mid-wipe.
Abdie froze mid-sweep.
The wolves froze mid-bite.
She slowly turned.
“Yes… Alpha heir?”
He pointed at the water jug near his table.
“It’s empty.”
Her lungs forgot how to function. “Oh. Um. Okay. I’ll—I’ll get it.”
She rushed to refill it, trying not to trip, spill, fall, or spontaneously combust.
When she came back, she placed the jug down carefully.
He watched her with a neutral expression… and then—
“You missed a spot.”
He said it straight-faced. Calm. Serious.
With the faintest—faintest—curl at the corner of his mouth.
She blinked hard. “Where?”
He tapped the table very lightly with his finger.
There was no spot.
None.
It was spotless.
Spot-deprived.
Her jaw dropped. “You’re joking. And why are we.cleaning for a third day, you only said two days.”
"Your group of misfits irritated me when they brought you all in. And as the Alpha I can extend however long I want.
I'm thinking the rest of the week should do you all well."
The second-in-command inhaled sharply, like he had witnessed a war crime.
Another officer whispered, horrified, “He’s doing it AGAIN.”
Abdie grabbed her wrist. “STOP ENGAGING WITH HIM OR WE’RE BOTH DEAD.”
Ferial nearly dropped the jug. “I—sorry—I'll go—”
She turned so fast she hit her elbow on the chair and hissed through her teeth.
The Alpha heir’s brows lifted slightly. “Careful.”
He sounded… almost amused.
The entire table of high-ranking wolves looked at him like he had grown horns.
One even murmured, “Sir… are you feeling alright?”
The Alpha heir ignored them completely.
As fate would have it, a few minutes later, Ferial had to walk past his table again—this time carrying a tray of cutlery.
Her nerves were so fried she misstepped.
Just a little.
Just enough.
The tray wobbled.
Metal clinked.
One fork slid toward the edge in slow motion.
Abdie whispered dramatically, “NOOO—”
The fork fell.
But before it hit the floor—
A hand caught it.
His hand.
The Alpha heir leaned slightly, catching it with reflexes too fast for humans to process.
Ferial froze with her eyes wide.
His fingers brushed hers as he placed the fork back onto the tray.
“Don’t drop things,” he said quietly.
Her heart slammed into her ribs. “I—I—okay.”
His officers looked like they were watching their Alpha heir perform circus tricks.
One mouthed, “WHAT IS HAPPENING?”
His second-in-command stared at Ferial like she was a detonated bomb.
The Alpha heir turned back to his food as if nothing strange occurred.
---
Outside, Abdie RIPPED his apron off.
“NO. NO. NO. I cannot BE HERE anymore.”
“Abdie—”
“He caught a fork. FOR YOU.”
“It was falling—”
“I drop forks all the time and no one catches them for ME!”
Ferial rubbed her eyes. “Please stop.”
“No! Because listen—wolves don’t do that! They don’t JOKE. They don’t… CATCH. They don’t smile. I saw it! It was microscopic but it was THERE.”
“He did NOT smile.”
“Yes he did. His face twitched. That’s a wolf smile!”
She groaned. “Maybe he’s in a good mood.”
Abdie grabbed her shoulders. “He is NEVER in a good mood! Ask anyone! Ask his officers! Ask the moon!”
“…Abdie.”
“He’s leaving in a days time, right? GOOD. GOOD. He must go. Before he starts making actual jokes.”
Ferial looked back at the hall.
Her stomach twisted.
One part relief.
One part regret.
And one part—terrifying, undeniable anticipation.
Because she knew:
He’d noticed her again.
And tomorrow…
He’d notice her more.