Chapter 2 Who He Really Is

Heaven

had always liked the idea of flying.

It

started when she watched her mom dance on the hill near their old

cabin.

However,

it's only when she got to actually dance she realized that as much

as dancing was close to flying, she could also hurt or lose her

wings. And she could fall-hard. Like

now.

For

the past fourteen years, she has been training in dance. The last

seven years is when she started training professionally, though.

Now

she's in her finals. But dance just had a huge breakup with her.

She

failed, which means she doesn't get a job in the National Dance

Company-her dream job-and she won't earn a good recommendation

into any other big dance companies.

She's

a rogue, once again. Always a rogue.

As

much as she doesn't want to remain a rogue forever, she has no

choice but to. Seven years ago when she was only fourteen, her rogue

parents were murdered, and she fled from the wolf world with a vow

never to return.

She

decided to stay in the human world.

Her

first months in the human world were tough. She experienced extreme

brutality, sexual assaults, and several inhumane treatments until she

took to sleeping near the school building with the hope that the

school's security would protect her.

That

was how she heard of the scholarship audition in

the school of dance.

Then, she thought she only needed a roof above her head and food in

her belly. So, she auditioned for the scholarship and surprisingly

passed.

Later,

she started taking it seriously. She found more joy in dancing for a

professional purpose than dancing like her mother, who did it as a

healing exercise.

However,

once again, everything has snapped and shattered.

She

knows this is what affected her dance-her anger for the world. It

haunts her wherever she goes. It's even now seeming as if the

entire universe finds pleasure in frustrating her. And she doesn't

have a clue of how to fight it.

She

can't go back to the school lodge. She'll only feel more

miserable about her existence, especially when she sees the final

years who passed celebrating in the lodge lobby.

No.

She can't put herself through all that.

"As

long as he's not an Alpha, I can endure it," she

mutters to herself.

What's

there not to endure? He's just a wolf, after all. Yes, she may meet

other wolves too, and maybe even an Alpha, but it doesn't mean

she'll be living with the latter.

"Stalking

me wasn't a good call, Mister," she says to the man who's still

standing. "Why should I trust you now?"

Ziason

turns to face Heaven. Instead

of answering the question immediately, the side of his

lips pull up into a smirk, yet that doesn't affect the vivid look

of his eyes.

The

same eyes that draw Heaven's attention like a magnet to iron, that

are shielded beneath thick brows and long clustered lashes. And it

doesn't help that his pompadour-styled ebony

hair

falls over his forehead in moist strands, highlighting a certain kind

of visual ecstasy that Heaven didn't know existed.

"I

know a lot about you, Heaven Litotes,"

he finally responds. And

Heaven finds it hard to believe he even knows her full name. "I

know there are no records of you in the werewolf world, which means

you are a rogue. And in the human world, your school record says you

lost your parents when you were fourteen. It states you do not know

how they disappeared. I like to know the secrets and the weak spots

of whoever I'm working with. But, with you, there's nothing.

Honestly, it's thrilling. It makes me want to find out more about

you. And, believe me, I will."

For

some reason, Heaven enjoys the challenge. She didn't think she

would love something so weird and probably twisted, but she does.

Maybe

it's the kind of person she would have grown to become had her

parents not died, thereby turning her life completely upside down.

"I'll

do it," she affirms,

thrusting her long slender chin forward. "I'll teach your child

how to dance. But then you'll have to pay me."

For

the first time, Heaven sees what looks like a genuine smile come

across Ziason's face. He approaches Heaven again, this time

stretching his right hand out to her.

"You

are a strong one, Heaven," he

mumbles, "it's

why I picked you for this job."

Heaven

accepts the hand and covertly turns it to the back-just to make

sure he has no scar on that hand. There's none, thankfully.

She

looks up to catch Ziason's gaze as he stares down at her. It's

quite enthralling,

a dark shade swirling around his narrowed eyes.

Heaven

doesn't know what it is, but this man in front of her screams of

danger from all round; his dressing, his thick hair that's styled

to loom over his forehead down to his eyes, not to talk of the eyes

themselves.

The

blank intensity in their stare look so unnatural, and their

color-it's a bit uncanny.

One

moment, they're a rich dim red, sort of burgundy.

The

next moment, they adopt the shade of ashes.

And

moments like now when she's sticking her gaze on them and catching

their color switching only feels unearthly,

as

if there's

magic settled beneath his irises.

She

should be scared of him.

His

stalking

habit should have already convinced her to run for her dear life.

Plus, entering a slick car that belongs to a total stranger isn't

how anyone should end such a stormy and gloomy night.

But

Heaven thinks she knows all the dangers in the world.

In

this past seven years, she has gone through most of the things anyone

in their 70s can boost of experiencing, so she forgot the meaning of

danger.

She

has forgotten the meaning of anything in fact, except fear. Not fear

of anyone. Fear of herself.

Heaven

has always been scared of feeling miserable. Because it's that

feeling that brings about self-sabotage-the disgust for herself and

her existence.

It's

why she didn't succumb to Lulu and Hector's request. Because if

she did, she'd only hate herself, and end up thinking of several

ways to get rid of herself. She can only do that by suicide. That's

the last thing she wants right now.

No

matter how she looks at it, she still wants to live. She wants to

prove to this forsaken world that she can make it. It wants her to

fail, but she won't let it watch her do so.

Ziason

squishes Heaven's hand softly. "Let's go?"

She

nods before he leads

the way to his car.

The

vehicle reeks of the man alone; the smell of first rain showers

meeting scorched earth, with a hint of calming mildness that Heaven

can't decipher.

But

that's not his wolf smell. His wolf scent rather lingers-like a

vivid

aroma of pinewood.

She loves the latter scent more, and wishes it was thicker.

Aside

from that, Heaven also notices the squealing

luxury in the car. She has never boarded a limousine before, and she

never for once thought the seat arrangement was different from any

other car. Now she knows.

Rubbing

the fine leather of the seat, she can't help but smile before

looking at the man, who's sitting opposite her.

"That

is your contract. Go through it," he mutters while gesturing to a

thick paper by his side.

Heaven

immediately reaches for it. Then she scans its wordings with her

eyes.

She

already knows she has to teach a seven-year-old how to dance.

However, she's only now finding out she has to live in a lonely

place with the girl alone for five years. No phone. No way of

contacting the outer world.

"Is

this right? Five years. Isn't it too much to have me locked up for

such a long time?" she voices her displeasure.

Ziason

gives her a perfect response. "Have you seen the numbers you will

be get?"

Yes,

she's looking at it right now. Three billion rakis per month. And

it's cash.

"Are

you that wealthy?" she asks even though it's a dumb one, seeing

his vehicle alone.

"If

you had to pick between half a decade of freedom with nothing, and

five years of bondage with all your expenses covered while receiving

such amount every month, which would you chose?" Ziason queries

nonchalantly.

Heaven

doesn't reply. She isn't even thinking about it. She just stares

at the digits, her brain totally blank.

"Let

us ditch the future, regard the present," Ziason continues. "What

happens when you reject this and walk out of this car? You return to

the lodge, realize you are really doomed, then you repeat final year

while struggling with your part-time jobs. But at the end of the

year, you still gain nothing. No better jobs. More frustration. Even

if you decide it's a waste of time to repeat final year, and decide

to drop out, your life still won't turn any better."

Heaven

heard everything he said, yet only the last sentence stuck-the one

that finally wakes her up.

"Who

says I were rejecting the offer?" she asks the man. "My mind was

already made up the moment I dialed your contact."

Heaven

proceeds to sign the contract, placing it back on Ziason's seat and

leaning back in hers to watch the man with a deadpan expression.

Ziason

smirks, then looks out the window behind her just as the car kicks

off. "Your bravery astounds me, Heaven," he mutters while

returning his gaze to Heaven.

He

finds her still staring. Not many people have been able to look at

him straight up like that, or hold his gaze. Only his brothers could

afford to do that, yet here's this tiny redhead girl in her little

coat staring at him like he's her next plaything.

But

then she doesn't know, does she, about who he really is?

"Tell

me, Heaven," he starts while squinting his eyes and cocking his

head to the side, "what is your beef with Alphas?"