Chapter 3

Elara Thorne POV:

"Those *are* your duties," Alpha Kaelen cut me off, his voice leaving no room for argument. "It is a position of great trust and responsibility. Do not fail it. Your workspace is outside."

He turned back to the window, a clear dismissal. The conversation was over.

I stumbled out of his office, my mind a chaotic whirl of confusion and humiliation. An assistant? Was this some kind of test? A punishment? My practical nature, honed by years of managing Silvermoon's resources, took over. Panicking wouldn't help. I would do the job, and I would do it well. For now.

The assistant's area had two desks. One was empty, pristine. The other was occupied by a man with dull brown hair and a permanent sneer. He watched me approach, his narrow eyes filled with a resentful energy.

He slammed a heavy stack of files onto the empty desk, the sound echoing in the quiet space.

"I'm Elara Thorne," I said, keeping my voice even.

He gave a short, ugly laugh. "Dax Slade. So you're the special delivery from Silvermoon. Didn't realize the Alpha's tastes ran to... imports."

Lyra snarled in my head, but I kept my expression neutral. "My job is to assist the Alpha, not to entertain his staff."

The tension between us was thick enough to cut with a knife. Before Dax could retort, a woman with tired, intelligent eyes approached. She was elegant and poised, but carried an air of deep weariness.

"Clara Valerius," she introduced herself, her voice soft. "I'm the... former assistant. I'm being transferred to the archives." She handed me a list. "Your duties."

"Looks like you got replaced by the new pet," Dax muttered from his desk, loud enough for all of us to hear.

Clara ignored him. Her gaze met mine, and it was filled with a strange, complex warning. "A piece of advice," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Alpha Kaelen demands two things above all else: absolute perfection and unwavering loyalty. Be careful where you step. It's a long way down."

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving me with her cryptic words and a mountain of work.

The rest of the day was a battle. Dax did everything he could to sabotage me-giving me outdated reports, "forgetting" to pass on urgent messages, interrupting me when I was speaking to the Alpha over the comms.

But he underestimated me. I was meticulous. I cross-referenced everything, caught his errors, and even identified a critical flaw in a supply chain report he had authored.

The Alpha's voice crackled over the internal comms a short while later, sharp and unforgiving as he tore into Dax for the oversight. Dax's glare could have melted steel.

Late that afternoon, I sat in on a strategy meeting with Kaelen's core council. For the first time, I saw him in his element. He was a brilliant, ruthless leader, his mind moving three steps ahead of everyone else in the room. A reluctant admiration began to bloom in my chest.

As he was outlining a defensive strategy, he started tapping his fingers on the polished table. A steady, impatient rhythm.

*Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.*

My blood ran cold.

It was the exact same rhythm the cloaked figure, Rafe, had tapped against his leg while waiting for the ceremony to begin.

The world seemed to narrow to that single, repetitive sound. It couldn't be. It was impossible. A coincidence. I shook my head, dismissing the insane thought as I forced myself to focus on my notes.

When the meeting ended, Kaelen kept me behind to finalize the report. I worked silently, intensely aware of him watching me. The silence was heavy, charged with an unspoken energy.

He finally spoke, his voice startling me. "The report is adequate."

I looked up, surprised by the faint hint of something other than cold command in his tone. For a moment, his gaze held mine, and I saw a flicker of... something. It was gone before I could name it.

"Well done," he said, his voice once again clipped and professional. He stood up, his towering form casting a shadow over my desk. "Be ready at 0700. We're inspecting the border."