Chapter 4 DAPHNE

DAPHNE

My heart thunders in my chest, unsure if it's from fear, shock, or something else I don't want to name.

His eyes don't leave mine, not even for a second. They're sharp, daring, like he's waiting to see what I'll do next. For the first time, I see him chuckle, which only tells me he's messing with me.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, scowling. "Are all werewolves this insane, or is it just you?"

He leans back in his seat, completely unfazed. "You're the one who thought the food was poisoned. I just helped ease your doubts."

If I didn't already plan to kill him, I would now.

He stands up, ready to leave. Anger clouds my mind, and without thinking, I grab the glass and hurl it at him. He dodges it easily, like he knew I'd do that. He doesn't even turn around, just walks out of the dining room like nothing happened.

"Breathe in," I whisper to myself, taking a deep breath. "Breathe out." I exhale slowly. Natalie used to tell me to do that whenever I was close to panicking.

Once I've calmed down, my focus shifts. I remember why I'm really here, to find Natalie. I rise from my seat and quietly leave the room. Oddly, there are no guards at the door or in the hallway. That feels off, but I don't stop.

I head toward the Alpha's study room. When I spot two guards walking in my direction, I quickly duck into a shadowy corner, holding my breath. I don't move until I'm sure they've passed. Then I approach the study door, glancing around carefully. From my hair, I pull out a small hairpin and kneel by the lock.

Natalie taught me this trick when we were kids. Back then, I was locked in the collateral zone because the humans believed I was a threat to their world. Natalie hated how bored I was and figured out how to sneak me out. I'd thought she'd used magic the first time, but it was just a lockpick. She saw the wonder in my eyes and taught me.

I hear the soft click of the lock and smile. Carefully, I push the door open and slip inside, quietly closing it behind me.

I step into the dimly lit study, my eyes scanning the room. Tall shelves line the walls, packed with neatly arranged books. I can't help but wonder what secrets they hold. Are they about werewolf history? Pack politics? Or something darker?

I move to the Alpha's desk, where stacks of organized files sit like guards. Without wasting time, I pull out the chair and switch on his computer. It's password protected, of course, but that's not a problem for me. I'm a data analyst. Cracking a password like this is child's play.

My fingers dance across the keyboard, working fast. In less than a minute, I'm in. I search for Natalie Jackson. Nothing comes up.

Frowning, I try again, this time, "Good Time Broadcasting," the company where Natalie worked. Still nothing. I lean back, frustrated.

"He must have hidden it," I murmur. "He's meticulous with his secrets."

I shuffle through the files on the desk, but they're useless, just budget reports and boring political documents. Nothing about Natalie. Nothing personal. Nothing dangerous.

Letting out a sigh, I lean back and try to think. That's when I notice them, three drawers built into the desk. My fingers twitch with curiosity. Maybe this is where the real secrets are kept.

I pull open the first drawer and find a small black box sitting beside a file. Curious, I open the box and blink at the glittering diamond pendant inside. "The Alpha must've bought this for his lover," I mutter, letting the lid fall shut. I flip open the file next and it's all about me. Every little detail. He really did run a background check.

With a sigh, I slide both items back into place and close the drawer.

The second drawer opens with a soft creak, revealing a black leather-bound journal. Of course, black again, this Alpha seems to have a thing for the color. I flip through the pages, but they're blank. Just like Natalie's journal. "Seriously?" I grumble, giving it a shake.

That's when three photographs slip out and fall to the floor.

My heart skips as I drop the journal and pick up the first picture. It's me, sitting in my favorite coffee shop, a plastic coffee cup in hand, smiling like I didn't have a care in the world. The second one is even worse. I remember that day clearly, my interview for the analyst job. Five years ago. The exact outfit, the nerves, the forced smile.

"How the hell does he have a picture of me from five years ago?"

I pick up the last photo, my chest tightening. It's me and Natalie. Side by side. Laughing.

My breath catches, this isn't just about politics. He's been watching me for a long time.

A sound from outside jerks me back to the moment. Footsteps. I scramble, shove the pictures back into the journal, toss it in the drawer, and power off the computer. My hands shake as I rush to arrange the files.

The door clicks.

Panic sets in. I look around, no time, no good hiding spot. The knob starts to turn.

I bolt, slipping between the tall shelves, pressing my body against the wall. My heart pounds loud in my ears. I hold my breath, willing it to silence.

I hear footsteps enter the room, followed by the soft rustling of papers. I don't dare peek to see who it is, but deep down, I already know, it has to be that stalking son of a bitch, the Alpha.

The sound of footsteps starts again, and a moment later, the door opens and shuts. Then silence. Complete silence.

I hold my breath, listening. Nothing. Whoever it was must have left. Slowly, I let out the breath I'd been holding, waiting until my heartbeat calms down before stepping out from between the shelves.

But the moment I do, a sharp gasp escapes my lips, and I freeze.

Ezekiel Hawthorne is standing right there in front of me.

He never left.

For the second time today, he's caught me off guard, playing games I didn't know we were in. His face is unreadable, calm, cold, stoic, but there's no mistaking it.

He was expecting me here.

And now I've been caught.