Chapter Four: The Beta's Curiosity
1163 Words
The file hit the mahogany desk with a soft thud, the sound barely audible over the ticking of the sleek, silver clock mounted on the concrete wall. Lucien didn’t look up immediately. He kept his gaze on the digital display floating mid-air above his tablet—schematics for a new containment chamber pulsed across the screen, coded in symbols that hadn’t existed in the human world for centuries.
“I assume this interruption is necessary,” he said coolly.
“It is,” his right hand man replied. Silas Vane. Loyal, sharp, and annoying in his punctuality. “Her name’s Tamryn Rhidian.”
Lucien finally looked up.
His eyes, a glacial blue that often unsettled even the most seasoned Council members, narrowed as he slid the file toward himself. The sleek black folder bore the Whitemore Labs insignia, two interlocking wolves framed by a crescent moon. As he flipped it open, a photograph slid out.
Her.
The same woman.
The human.
The one who’d been trembling in the alleyway last night, seconds after he’d snapped a vampire’s neck with one brutal twist.
He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled.
“She’s applying for a researcher position?”
Silas nodded. “Top of her class in biomedical science. Special interest in blood synthesis, genetic memory, and arcane resonance theories...though she doesn’t know that’s what it is.”
Lucien’s jaw tensed. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her the night before, not really. His instincts had been screaming protect, destroy, hide. She had been collateral. A human who should never have been part of that hunt.
He remembered the way she’d looked at him. Not in recognition, not in awe. Just fear. Pure, uncut terror.
And yet, she was here.
Unscathed.
And more importantly
“She doesn’t remember,” Lucien said.
Silas raised a brow. “You expected she might?”
Lucien’s gaze darkened.
“The Veil. The ward spell cast centuries ago by the High Circle. Any human who witnesses supernatural activity and survives forgets the encounter. Their memories dissolve into a haze. The stronger the supernatural presence, the thicker the fog.”
Silas nodded slowly. “You think she’s an exception?”
“She was in the middle of a supernatural bloodbath, Silas,” Lucien snapped. “A fledgling vampire tried to take her. I didn’t shift, but I didn’t exactly hold back either.”
“And yet,” Silas said, “she’s here. Interviewed clean. No recognition. No suspicion. Just a very focused woman with a hunger for answers.”
Lucien tapped the file again, letting his eyes linger on Tamryn’s profile. She looked younger than her 22 years. Smart eyes. Straightforward answers. No guile in the interview footage Silas had already synced to his tablet.
“You interviewed her yourself?”
Silas nodded. “Had to be sure. She’s clean. No trauma markers. She’s just driven. Her academic record is pristine.”
Lucien nearly closed the file.
Nearly.
But something made him stop.
He didn’t believe in fate. Not in the romanticized way humans and other creatures did. Fate was a weapon. A bloodline. A curse passed down with genetic precision. It didn’t make sense for a human woman to show up twice in his path within hours.
He should reject her.
Too much risk. Too much chaos. Humans weren’t meant to be part of their world. Especially not fragile ones with pretty eyes and curious minds.
And yet—
He reread a line in the report. Her senior thesis: “Theoretical Retroactive Mutation in Isolated Bloodlines.” He knew what she meant. She just didn’t have the words.
“She’s not aware of the Veil?”
“Not even close,” Silas said. “But she’s been chasing ghosts. Mythology. Trying to give science to things that don’t belong in a lab.”
Lucien closed the file with a quiet snap.
“Put her on probation. Level Two clearance only.”
Silas blinked. “You’re accepting her?”
“No,” Lucien said as he turned back to his floating screen, the schematics fading into data points. “I’m watching her.”
He leaned back, fingers sliding into the shadows cast by the moonlight filtering through the tinted windows.
“And Silas?”
“Yes, Beta?”
Lucien’s voice dropped an octave, smooth and cold as winter rain.
“If she steps one foot out of line, I want to know before her heart beats twice.”
Silas gave a nod and turned to leave.
The door hissed shut behind him.
Lucien remained still, staring at the black folder.
Something about her didn’t add up.
And he was going to find out what.
He stood from his desk, the long coat he wore shifting like liquid shadow around his frame. The city pulsed below snd Whitemore Labs sat at the heart of the skyline, its glass towers cutting into the night like silver fangs. He paced toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, folding his arms as the memory from the night before came rushing back.
The vampire hadn’t just been stupid. He’d been desperate.
Rogue bloodsuckers rarely crossed into Beta-controlled territory without reason. And taking a hostage, a human? That had been a bold move. Bold or suicidal.
Lucien had seen the moment fear overtook instinct in the vampire’s eyes,right before he ended it with a single twist. The snap of vertebrae still echoed in his mind. A clean kill. Necessary.
But she had seen him.
More than that,she had been close enough to smell the shift in his aura, the subtle rise of silver energy as his power flared.
So why had the Veil taken everything from her mind so seamlessly?
Unless... it hadn’t.
He didn’t like loose ends. And she was now the frayed thread dangling from the hem of his otherwise immaculate world.
Lucien moved back to his desk and opened the file again, this time slower. Tamryn Rhidian. He repeated the name in his mind. It had weight to it. Not just the cadence, but something more...familiar, almost.
He glanced over the rest of the documents: academic records, psychological profile, past employment history, letters of recommendation. All clean. Too clean?
No. It wasn’t falsified. He would’ve smelled the lie.
There was just... something off.
Curiosity was dangerous. He knew this. But so was ignoring warning signs. Tamryn’s arrival in his orbit wasn’t random. And the world didn’t need more chaos,not with tensions already building between the factions. The Alpha was watching him, the Council was testing him, and the last thing he needed was a fragile thread unspooling at the worst time.
Still, something inside him whispered.
Not an accident.
And that whisper was what made him decide.
She would work at Whitemore. Under surveillance. Within reach.
And when the truth revealed itself,as it always did,he’d be ready.
Even if that truth burned.
Even if it broke him.
He looked down at the folder one last time.
Tamryn Rhidian.
Curious, reckless, brilliant.
And now... his responsibility.
- Writer
