Her Men Of Ruin

Yule

city, Yule country.

Yule

National School of Dance.

"Your

project lacks the emotions required for such a heart-friendly piece,

Miss Litotes. Dance that to a person with cardiac arrest and they

could die. You

need to wield passionate and subtle feelings when portraying a

swan-like

character, which is something you do not seem to possess. Stiff

movements are meant for robotic showcases, not ballet or contemporary

dances. You should have learned more about that instead of focusing

on technique. You are dismissed. Next person."

Eighty,

or less than eighty words, yet they carry such venom that stabs

Heaven's heart like a blade.

She

bites her lower lips to stop herself from bursting into tears, yet

that doesn't help as she grabs her bag and hurries out, slamming

the classroom door behind her.

Reaching

her lodge, Heaven tosses her bag aside, tucking out her phone and

chewing the nail of her shaking index finger as she dials her best

friend's number.

After

several tries, her bestfriend, Lulu, doesn't pick up, so Heaven

resorts to calling her boyfriend instead.

He

too doesn't respond. But, thankfully, Lulu calls back.

'Heaven,

are you alright?'

the girl raps from the other side of the phone. She sounds

breathless, as if running while talking.

Heaven

shakes her head, though Lulu couldn't see her, bawling her eyes out

as she rants into the phone. "I'm

not okay, Lulu! All my hard work... they... they are for nothing! The

board rejected my project! How am I supposed to cope now?"

'Hold

on. Is it the one you've been working on for months now?'

Lulu says with short breaths again, earning a shriek from Heaven.

"Yes,

Lulu! That's the one!"

'Isn't

it your final year project?'

"It

is! Now I have to repeat a damn year, and I can't get a job in the

National Dance Company anymore. I can't even get a job in any top

companies, because I'll have a red marker on my certificate! This

is so unfair, Lulu! I'll end up scrambling to survive now!"

'It's

alright, Heaven. Can't you get other jobs? I told you dancing

shouldn't have been your career-'

'Lulu,

hang

up.

You don't have to teach her everything,'

someone mumbles from the other side of the call right before it

disconnects.

Heaven

stares at her screen speechlessly. The person who just interrupted

Lulu sounds too much like Hector, Heaven's boyfriend. That makes

her uncomfortable, added to the fact that Hector's not picking up

his call.

Hector

lives just

across the bridge,

so

Heaven quickly hails a cab.

As

she arrives at her boyfriend's studio

apartment, she calls him again even though she has been doing so the

entire time in the cab.

He

still doesn't pick up.

Now

she stands on the last step that leads to his door, about to knock

before her hand hangs in the air on hearing faint noises coming from

inside. Curses. Constant body slamming body. Moans and pants.

But

she can't be too sure.

Heaven

goes ahead to place the knock.

No

response. The noises persist.

She

knocks harder, and the noises suddenly stop.

Then,

after a while, the door opens to reveal Hector standing akimbo and

sweating profusely.

He

looks tired, but the first thing Heaven notices is his dick standing

tall.

"Are

you here to rant again, Heaven?"

he asks boorishly.

Heaven

huffs, her brows creasing with a frown of disbelief as she replies.

"Are

you serious? I've been calling you." She

glances

past him to the room and

finds no one else. But

there's his laptop on his bed. "Did you put the porn so loud you

couldn't even hear your phone ringing?"

"I

guess my phone's tucked away somewhere." Hector shrugs.

"I

was going to tell you I failed my project."

"Well,

Lulu told me that already. But why go about telling us? We weren't

the ones who asked you to choose

dancing as a career."

"Lulu?"

Heaven asks, her eyes squinting with curiosity as she tries to get

into the house. But Hector slides into her way, casually blocking

her. "Why aren't you letting me in?" she queries again, about

to force her way in before Lulu steps out from behind the door,

standing naked at Hector's back.

"Heaven,

hi," she says nervously, her shoulders tense as she hesitantly

waves at Heaven. "I didn't expect you'd come, but it's a good

thing you did."

Heaven

analyzes the Blonde with a dirty look. "Are you guys doing what I

think you're doing?"

"Yes?"

Hector chips in, then adds mockingly, "given the fact that we are

in a

'boring

relationship'."

Heaven

looks at Lulu with unbelief

streaked on her face. She had told the girl how she was slowly losing

interest in her relationship with Hector. But she thought her

'bestfriend'

would keep such matters between them.

"That

was a private thought that I trusted you with, Lulu."

"If

you want to term it as private, you should have come to me. It's a

matter of you and I, after all," Hector scoffs. "Well, since the

relationship was uninteresting, why don't we spice it a little

then? You, Lulu, and I."

Heaven

huffs. The next second, she turns and walks away, but not without

hearing Lulu calling behind her.

"Come

on, Heaven, don't be a coward. It's going to be fun!"

"Leave

her be. Let her go dine with her sordid misery," Hector spits. "I

don't need such a bad vibe with me anyway?"

Heaven

looks back a couple of times, hoping her bestfriend would at least

come after her. She couldn't care less about Hector. She never even

loved him and only tried to force herself to feel normal by being in

a relationship, since she kept feeling like she didn't belong in

the human world.

But

Lulu... Lulu was like the sister she never had. Lulu was everything

to her, which is why it pains her that she would do such a thing.

It's

not about her having sex with her boyfriend behind her back. It's

more of she trying to convince her to have a threesome-even after

seeing how displeased she was about it-knowing well about her

history with men.

Sleeping

with Hector was hard enough, let alone having one more body rubbing

her. It would only remind her of those painful times when two or more

men took her at once. She had just gotten over the trauma of that and

doesn't want to relive it again.

Now

she is well and truly lonely, and has no one she can rely on.

Heaven

approaches another apartment and sits down on the stairs leading to

the door, still hoping Lulu would come after her. But seconds soon

stretch to minutes, and minutes to hours.

Even

the weather curses her existence with striking lightening and

thundering storm as the earth rumbles, heavy patters of rain

flourishing all over the place and splashing on Heaven, who cares

less about it.

Just

then, a black limousine pulls up in front of the building.

On

her way here, she had noticed this same car following her cab, but it

was the least of her problems then. Now, it's bothersome.

The

tinted window of the back seat winds down, and Heaven sees who is

being driven-a very unfamiliar face. Had he been stalking her?

Looking

in her direction, the stranger

slides off the pair

of black shades

he wore, revealing the full view of his rectangular,

well-defined face to Heaven.

Still

shocked and unable to move, she watches as he opens his door, slowly

stepping out while pulling free a black umbrella.

He

takes gradual gaits in approaching her. For a moment, Heaven sees him

walking in slow motion, the rain as mere showers of his glory.

She

has never seen a man look so ethereal-not the pure, empyrean kinds

that are dazzling, but the kind that seems like a spectral; the one

crawling into her brains and knitting together with her wits, leaving

her heady and spellbound by such a figure that has the aura of a

devil walking the night.

In

her state of amazement, the stranger stands in front of her, both his

body and his umbrella shielding her from the raindrops that once

lashed at her.

"If

things fall in place now, how would you feel?" he

asks.

At

first, Heaven doesn't react. She lets the voice sink in. Low-toned.

Velvety. Sounding like an ancient being from the depths of an ocean.

Then,

the next minute, she shudders on realization while jumping

to her feet.

The

stiff

stranger

towers above her. And, despite that she's gazing up at him, Heaven

can't grip the actual looks of his face. One thing she notes,

though, is his expression. It

lacks a smile.

Doesn't

a gentleman's handbook instruct that a man should smile when

meeting a lady for the first time-at least to strike a feeling of

comfort that could urge her positive response?

Yet,

should she be surprised by that? It's in the nature of her kind to

shit on politeness, after all.

She

can smell his essence, though it's not as strong as she read an

Alpha's would be. Surely, he sensed hers too before approaching

her. Any wolf would recognize another wolf even if it's in the

human world.

"Happy?"

she responds to his question anyway, shifting

back so that her backside is now pressed against the door behind her.

"But it's best not to hope." Her eyes divert to his

left hand that holds the umbrella.

He has no scar on

the back of that hand.

"Even

so, do you believe in the possibility?" the man presses on.

Heaven

shakes her head. "Nope. My life is already ruined. There's no

mending it, unless I can find a witch who would make the judges

forget what they saw, so I'll redo my project. But a witch would

kill me on sight."

The

man lets an echoing laugh roll out of his lungs, giving Heaven chills

for a moment. "Do you really imagine your wolf is growling,

princess? No witch would know your wolf nature unless she tested you

with silver, or checked your healing span."

Heaven

squints her eyes at him. Is he trying to insinuate that her wolf's

presence is too weak? Can he really say it out that loud without

considering how it would make her feel?

"But

you do not need a witch for this one," the stranger continues, "all

you need is a place to stay, a job without certificate, and food to

eat."

Heaven

huffs. What a nice way to add fuel to fire. "Can you even hear

yourself? Does a job without certificate sound realistic to you?"

"You

have lived too long in the human world, Heaven." Wait. He knows her

name? "Why not return to the other world and refurbish

your mind on the existence of magic and wonders?"

The

man searches his coat pocket and tucks out a small black card. Pinned

between his index and middle fingers, he thrusts it to Heaven's

direction.

"I'm

in search of a dancer, specifically a wolf. I watched you move

earlier, and have deemed you capable of teaching my kid," he

mutters. "She is seven and not problematic. You just need to teach

her dance, and you will have food and a place to stay. Is that

understood?"

Heaven

nods hesitantly before taking the card with slow fingers. She stares

at it as the stranger adds, "I will give you time to think. Call me

with that number when you come to a decision."

The

man turns to walk away. He had already taken about three steps before

Heaven suddenly realizes something.

"Wait!"

she calls. The stranger obeys instantly, but doesn't turn back to

look at her. "You know my name. Don't I get to know yours, at

least?"

Subtle

silence.

Whispering

wind.

Calling

birds.

"Ziason,"

he mumbles, still without turning. "Ziason Father is my name."

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?"

The

question takes Heaven by surprise. She remains calm, nevertheless.

"Nothing," she lies, "why?"

"It's

just... I heard when you said

'as long as he's not an Alpha'.

You might have said it beneath your breath, but my wolf ears picked

it up, you know. Does it have to do with you being a dormant wolf,

and envying those with stronger abilities?"

Heaven's

eyes widen a bit at the last question. "You discovered that too?"

"I

did. It's the very first thing I noticed about you."

"I'm

not ashamed of that." Heaven shrugs. "My rogue father with a

dormant wolf married my rogue mother with a dormant wolf. Together,

they had a dormant wolf, though my mom's advantage is that her

lineage has an amazing skill of healing people."

"So

you are a healer of some sort?"

"Not

really. The ability never passed down to me."

"So,

basically, the only thing you know how to do is dance."

Heaven

looks away with a nod.

"How

about fuck?" Ziason suddenly asks again, earning a sharp glare from

the girl. He doesn't mind her glower as he continues, "every

woman should, at least, know the basics of pleasing a man."

"I

have no intention to please any man," Heaven nearly snaps, "and

please add it in the contract that on no account should both parties

cross the boundaries of the other. My boundaries are not to talk to

me about anything relating to sex, and do not try to sexualize me in

any way."

Ziason

looks out the window. "No worries. I have no interest in women

either."

"Good."

But...

If

he isn't interested in women, what else would he have an interest

in when he's looking so hot?

.

.

.

______

Wolf

Kingdom.

Moon's

Wrath Pack.

The

car soon stops after a long journey.

Between

Ziason and Heaven, it has been absolutely silent after that talk of

sex. Both seem to enjoy the quietude too.

Someone

opens the door from outside the car. Since it's his side, Ziason

steps out first without bothering to help Heaven.

She

follows slowly behind him while dwelling more on checking out her

surrounding-a large compound floored with old bricks, rounded by a

great fence that looks like it could fall at any minute, and

harboring a round tower of dark stone walls that rises in uneven

layers, several narrow slits in the walls serving as windows.

A

cool air of damp limestone and old iron whizzes past Heaven's nose,

and-due to the silence within the vicinity-she suspects there may

be fewer or no souls living around the area.

Glancing

up, there aren't any electric wire crossings either, which means

Ziason wasn't kidding when he told her to forfeit her phone. He

really was bringing her to an uncivilized area.

"Just

out of curiosity, Mr. Father," Heaven starts while jogging to catch

up with Ziason's long strides, "would I be allowed the liberty to

use a TV, at least? I cant be dancing everyday all year long, and

I'll certainly grow bored."

The

man

doesn't respond. Instead, he pushes open the heavy, iron, double

doors of the tower that usher them into a large abandoned-looking

hall.

Heaven

gasps as she takes in the view of the hall as musky air clouds her

smell. Since it's empty, she can't help but envision the looks of

it when there were still people living in the tower.

Gazing

up, she notices that the dim lit building rises in tiers, the view as

if staring at a coiled snake of balustrade.

With

no ceiling in sight, the top looks unending, the whole structure

winding up in a spiral pattern with open floors-as in inner

balconies-protected by balustrades, each floor topping another like

an atrium.

Across

the double doors is the start of a stairway, where stands a

nervous-looking man in brown suit.

Heaven

catches him bowing to Ziason, who casually hands him the contract

while halting in his front and mumbling, "Satisfactory?"

The

way Ziason looks at the man seems to intimidate him. The latter dares

not return the gaze, so he just mopes at the contract.

"Uh...

Yes- yes, sir," he stutters.

Heaven

is confused, and doesn't seem to figure out what's going on as

Ziason fakes a smile at the man before going up the stairs.

She

she trails behind him, she has the urge to ask of the man's

identity, and why he looked so scared of Ziason. But she couldn't

find the courage to, so she simply drops the questions.

"This

building looks really old from outside, yet how is it so refined on

the inside?" she queries instead, trailing her fingers along the

rough balustrade edges as they slowly climb up the unending flights

of stairs.

"Maintenance,"

Ziason simply utters.

"Isn't

it dangerous to stay in it? I mean, it could crumble at any time."

"It

has been standing for nearly a century, Heaven. It will not fall on

your head, I promise."

When

they reach the uppermost floor of the tower, they walk through the

dark and chilly inner balcony that has several closed doors, which

probably belong to rooms.

Ziason

uses his phone torchlight to lead the way, as one could barely tell

daytime from nighttime from up here.

At

a point, he opens one of the doors and stands aside for Heaven to

enter the room. The girl hesitates before doing so.

"This

will be your room," he tells her.

"Not

bad." She shrugs.

The

room would be exactly her type had she ever had a private one-big

enough to her taste, aged walls that pull the faint scent of autumn,

a four-post bed at the center that's encircled by a black mosquito

net draping from its canopy, and about four candle sconces on each

wall with lighted candles casting warm glows across the room.

One

small uncovered window lets in fresh air and some light that chases

musk and darkness. And the fireplace doesn't seem to have been used

for ages, telling from how cold the room is. But it's well-kept

anyways.

"I

love the dark aesthetics of the place," Heaven begins after some

moments of silent appreciation, "but what about the kid?"

Ziason

gestures for her to come out of the room. When she does, he closes

the door and continues walking through the floor.

Heaven

counts the doors they walk pass until the seventeenth door after

hers. That's where Ziason stops, opening the door.

The

room's décor isn't any different from Heaven's. Except,

there's a little girl clad in a silk white robe sitting

cross-legged on the bed, her wavy hair cascading down her shoulders

to favor the bed sheet.

She

jumps out of the bed with a smile the moment she sights Ziason,

running to the duo and clasping her little body around Ziason's

left leg.

The

man pats her head while crouching down.

"How

have you been, my little lamb?" he coos, even though his deep voice

betrays him.

The

child nods in response.

"What's

her name?" Heaven asks.

"Kaicha."

Ziason rises to his full height. "Do not bother asking her

anything, though. She would not respond."

"Seriously,

why?"

No

response.

Kaicha

looks up at Heaven, jamming gazes with the latter's.

She's

a redhead like Heaven, though hers is a little darker-as in

burgundy.

And her eyes are so sharp that for some reason Heaven starts to feel

like she's staring directly into her mother's orbs.

She

quickly shakes the feeling off with a question, "Does she listen to

instructions?"

Ziason

nods. "Very well."

"And

her mother?"

"She

left me with Kaicha and left."

"She

wasn't prepared for motherhood, eh?"

Ziason

shrugs. "I will have her maid bring food for you as well. The maid

will also prepare your bath and every other thing you may need."

"So,

will you show me where the dance practice room is?" Heaven

asks while moving out of the room.

"The

ballroom, you mean?" Ziason

follows suit. "It's

on the floor before the ground floor. Come."

The

two adults board the stairs again. When they reach the second floor,

Ziason brings Heaven to a hall introduced through the very first door

in the floor. It's smaller than the bottom hall, yet Heaven can

already feel her feet itching to slide on its appropriately slick

floors.

"It's

my first time seeing a medieval ballroom," she giggles.

Ziason

huffs while leaning against the wall. "It is empty, Heaven, and the

floors were modified recently to fit your practice. You do not think

these floors existed back then, do you?"

"Well,

what do I know?"

"Besides,

most content of this tower have either been destroyed or given away.

If this room still had its matters, you would have been absolutely

astonished by its whole look."

"Why

did you give away the ones that weren't destroyed, then?"

Ziason

pushes himself from the wall and leaves the hall, heading for the

stairs. "To forget past memories."

Heaven

jogs to catch up with him. "I won't ask about the memories, so

how about the kind of dance you want me to teach Kaicha? We haven't

clarified that."

"Any

type that speaks to the soul."

"Oh..."

Heaven stops at the stair

landing

and watches Ziason hurry down the remaining steps

to the bottom hall.

"As

this has been settled, sir, is it okay for you release my family

now?" the man in brown suit, still standing close to the stairs,

asks Ziason who has

already rushed past him.

"Oh,

right! How could I have forgotten that?" Ziason mutters as he

suddenly turns back and approaches the man. "You were such a

patient lawyer, David, and a good one. It will be so sad to lose

you."

"What?"

Panic strikes across David's expression that instant, confusing

Heaven again as he raps breathlessly, "I swear, I don't know this

lady or why you need her! I don't know a single thing and neither

does my family! Please, let us go, I'm begging you!"

Ziason

nonchalantly pauses in front of David, his hands resting in his pants

pockets as he tilts his head down to stare intently at the lawyer. "I

WILL... let your family go," he whispers with a tight smile.

David

doesn't seem to buy it. "Alpha, pleas-"

Ziason

waves his right hand closely across the man's neck with a sharp

movement. Heaven would swear she saw the long nail of Ziason's

index finger slice through the man's throat right before blood

gushes out. But, even at that moment, she's gobsmacked at David's

last words.

"You-

you're an Alpha?" she whispers to Ziason, who merely glances up

at her before making for the door again.