Chapter4
973 Words
The Questions The Goddess Left Me
Conor’s POV
The sharp ring of my alarm cut through the quiet of my bedroom.
I opened my eyes to pale morning light spilling through the slightly parted curtains. For once, there was no headache. No pressure behind my eyes. No tightness in my chest. The dull ache that had greeted me every morning since my mate died was gone.
That alone made me sit up.
The pills hadn’t worked last night. They never failed. Yet sleep never came, not because of pain, but because my mind refused to let go of one single thought.
Her.
The way my wolf stirred the moment she stepped into the club. The low growl in my chest when other men moved too close to her. The way it surged when she laughed, unaware of the pull she carried.
And the way she looked in that dress.
I dragged a hand down my face. “Enough.”
The room felt wrong without the familiar discomfort. Too quiet. Too light.
My chest didn’t ache.
Was this some cruel trick of my body… or something else?
My fingers curled, brushing the golden ring on my hand. The wolf head carved into it caught the light. Alpha. Mate. Bond. All things I had buried with the dead.
“Would the goddess really do this?” I muttered.
Grant me peace after years of torment… only to tempt me again?
A second chance?
The idea was dangerous. Blasphemous, even. The Moon Goddess did not make mistakes, and she did not offer replacements.
And yet my wolf had woken.
“But she’s human,” I said quietly, as if saying it aloud would anchor me. “Completely human.”
I had felt no aura. No pull of power. No pack mark.
Impossible.
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
“Sir? Are you awake?”
Alan.
“I’m up.”
When I opened the door, his eyes widened slightly as he took me in. No grogginess. No tension. No signs of the pills clinging to my system.
“You’re… early,” he said.
“I’ll be ready in thirty minutes.”
He nodded, clearly holding back questions.
Thirty minutes later, we were in the car. The city passed by in streaks of glass and steel, but my attention wasn’t on the road.
“The new personal assistant resumes today,” I said.
“Yes. She should already be in the office,” Alan replied.
The corner of my mouth lifted before I could stop it.
Good.
At the office, I didn’t call her in immediately. I wanted to feel it again. To be sure it wasn’t imagined.
When she passed my open door, my wolf stirred.
There it was.
That warmth in my chest. That faint sweetness beneath her perfume. Subtle, controlled, restrained. Nothing like a wolf. And yet…
Her face was calm, professional, but tension lived beneath it. Determination. Quiet resilience.
Human.
I pressed the intercom. “Send my PA in.”
She entered and froze.
I saw it clearly. The disbelief. The sharp inhale she tried to hide. Her eyes flicked to the nameplate on my desk, then back to me.
“…Sir?” she said cautiously.
“Yes?”
“You’re… Conor Hartfelt?”
I nodded.
For a heartbeat, she stared. Then she straightened, slipping into professionalism like armor.
“I apologize for our earlier encounter,” she said with a polite smile. “I didn’t realize—”
“I was your interviewer,” I said. “And the man you ran into.”
Her lips pressed together. The smile stayed.
“You called me rude,” I added.
“I was under pressure,” she replied evenly.
My wolf purred, pleased by her spine.
“I’ll let it go,” I said after a pause. “This time.”
Relief flickered across her face before she masked it.
As she stepped closer, her gaze dropped to my hand.
She noticed the ring instantly.
“That ring,” she said carefully. “It’s… unique.”
I glanced at it. “Family piece.”
She nodded, but her attention lingered longer than necessary.
“You were out late last night, sir?” she asked casually, too casually.
I leaned forward. “You sure know how to have fun.”
Her breath hitched.
Recognition flashed across her face, quickly buried under composure.
Interesting.
The day unfolded quickly. I kept her busy. On purpose.
“The coffee is too hot,” I said after the first sip.
“I’ll remake it immediately, sir.”
The second cup came.
“Too weak.”
She paused. “Noted.”
The third time, I set it aside untouched. “You’re slow.”
Her jaw tightened. “I’ll improve.”
Alan watched silently.
“These files were meant to be alphabetized,” I said later.
“They were,” she replied calmly. “By department, as you requested.”
“…Redo them.”
“Of course.”
“You’re late with the schedule.”
“I adjusted it after your meeting overran,” she said. “You asked me to.”
I leaned back. “Did I?”
She met my gaze. “Yes, sir.”
My wolf stirred again. Stronger this time.
Human, I reminded myself.
At some point, Alan leaned close. “Sir… are you interested in her?”
I didn’t look away from my desk. “Say another word and I’ll send you to the African branch.”
He swallowed. “Understood.”
As the day ended, I watched her gather her things, exhaustion written carefully beneath professionalism.
As she left, my fingers curled against the desk.
“If the goddess truly gave me a second chance,” I thought, “then why does she feel so human?”
And why did my wolf refuse to believe it?
- Writer
