Wolvenmark - The Forbidden Mate

Chapter 6 : Unraveled in the Moonlight

Chapter 6 : Unraveled in the Moonlight

Ruby’s POV

Stacks of papers were spread across my desk, showing the hours I had spent working. The words on the pages started to blur together, but I forced myself to stay focused. Every detail felt like a puzzle piece, helping me understand my responsibilities better. The pressure of doing things perfectly weighed on my shoulders—I had to prove myself.

Going through past meeting notes, I traced the flow of discussions, decisions, and unfinished tasks. The notes revealed a hidden rhythm in how things operated. I made a list of people I had to follow up with, my pen tapping against the desk absentmindedly. I also looked at the profiles of stakeholders, their faces and titles burned into my memory. Understanding them was important—I had to be the link between the executives and everyone else. A quiet force in the background, ensuring everything ran smoothly.

Time passed in a blur, and I only snapped back to reality when my stomach gave a loud, impatient grumble. I blinked at the clock.

“Lunch already?” I murmured, rubbing my temple. How had I lost track of time again?

The thought of trekking down to the cafeteria felt exhausting. I sighed and reached for my bag, pulling out my neatly packed lunch. At least I had prepared. As I made my way to the dining area, the smell of home-cooked food wrapped around me like a comforting embrace. The moment I sat down, I felt an odd sense of peace, as if I had momentarily escaped the weight of my responsibilities.

For a fleeting second, a ridiculous thought crossed my mind—what if I just lived here? No rent, no commute, just work and sleep on the office couch. I snorted at my own imagination.

“Yeah, right. Security would have me out in a second.”

Shaking my head, I focused on my meal, eating quickly but savoring each bite. It was a small break, but one I desperately needed. When I finished, I packed my things away and made a quick stop at the bathroom. A splash of cold water on my face, a brisk brush of my teeth, and I was back in work mode.

Just as I settled into my chair and started typing, the sharp click of the door handle snapped my attention away. My heart did a weird little jump.

I froze as the door cracked open. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, my breath catching slightly.

Who…?

“Oh, Sir, what are you doing here?” My voice came out surprised as I looked up to see the one and only Mr. Silvermoon stepping in like he owned the place—which, technically, he did.

Without a word, he walked in casually and went straight to the couch. He flopped down as if this were his personal lounge.

“Is there something I can help you with?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He could’ve just used the intercom. Why come all the way here?

Or if he just wanted to relax, he had a better couch in his own office.

“Nothing. Work is done...” he sighed, closing his eyes as if he were already sinking into a nap.

“Really?” I said, amused. “Lunch break just finished, not the work.”

He peeked one eye open, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, right. You’re the CEO. You get to decide when to work... whatever,” I muttered as I turned back to my screen, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Yeah, how dare you use my line on me.” He chuckled, the sound low and smooth.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Mm.”

I paused, exhaling through my nose. “Also, I know you’re the CEO and have access to my office, but can you at least let me know when you’re coming in? Don’t just enter like that.”

It was weird. He just strolled in without warning like he belonged here. Well, technically, he did, but still.

“I didn’t mean you can’t be here,” I clarified before he could twist my words. “I just think you should have a reason.”

A slow smirk played on his lips as he straightened up, finally meeting my gaze.

“Oh? So I need permission to be in my own building now?”

I swallowed. Gosh, I could’ve worded that better. I didn’t want to get fired immediately.

I literally applied and got hired immediately, and now I’m also going to be fired immediately...

“Then I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, and I stared at him, stunned.

“S-say that again?” I choked.

“Sorry, okay?” He repeated, sounding almost amused at my reaction. “I can’t believe I’m being lectured by my new secretary.”

I scowled playfully. “I’m not trying to lecture you. You’re just being too casual, Mr. Silvermoon.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Oh, am I?”

I nodded without looking at him, focusing on my work.

“I’m sorry... it’s that scent.”

I paused, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. “What scent?”

He exhaled, like he was trying to figure it out himself. “I don’t know. I keep smelling it from you.”

A shiver ran down my spine.

“I feel really good because of it,” he murmured. “And I want to smell it more often.”

Okay, what the freak... this is bad. I knew exactly what he was talking about, and it couldn’t be happening.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered, desperately trying to brush it off.

“I couldn’t focus on my work because my senses wanted that smell,” he admitted, rubbing his temples. “So I came here, because this is where I knew I could find it. And I was right.”

Oh my gosh, are my thoughts even correct right now? The wolf patterns, the ambiance, the name of the corporation... what he’s feeling right now.

Oh no.

“Excuse me, sir!” My heart pounded as I grabbed my phone and bolted, dashing straight for the nearest fire exit.

Al’s POV

He just dashed off like that, leaving me standing alone in the center of his office, the faint trace of his scent still lingering in the air. It clung to the room like an invisible veil—subtle yet intoxicating, a pull I couldn’t name but couldn’t ignore either. It wasn’t the sharp burn of cologne or the airy sweetness of perfume. No, this was something richer, more natural, like warmth and night tangled together.

I let out a slow, shaky breath, trying to shake it off, but instead my feet carried me toward his desk. Curiosity gnawed at me. He had left in such a rush—papers spread out, pen still uncapped, as though every second mattered. What was he working on so intently?

I leaned closer. Reports, charts, strategic outlines—an avalanche of responsibilities. My eyes skimmed the neat handwriting in the margins, sharp and decisive. For someone who had walked into this company with a résumé thinner than most, he was moving with the confidence of a man born for this place. No hesitation. No second-guessing. Just… certainty.

I sank into his chair before I realized what I was doing, the soft leather molding to me, and that was when it hit me—his scent, stronger here, soaked into the fabric, surrounding me completely. It wrapped around me, familiar yet foreign, and against my better judgment, I closed my eyes for a fleeting second, just to breathe it in.

What is this? Why is it affecting me like this?

My fingers trailed across the smooth surface of the desk, brushing past papers and files until they bumped into something solid. I glanced down. An ID card.

I picked it up, the glossy surface catching the light.

Rubeus Midnightwalker.

I tilted my head, repeating it silently in my mind. A cool name, bold and strange—almost too fitting. Like it belonged to someone out of a story rather than real life. Who exactly was this man? And why was I, against all reason, drawn in by something as simple as his presence… his scent?

I bit the inside of my cheek. Maybe I should just ask him what cologne he uses. Pretend it’s casual, laugh it off, buy it for myself. Maybe then I could figure out why it lingers like this.

Before I could entertain the thought any longer, a sharp knock echoed against the door.

I blinked, realizing—of course. He left his ID inside. No way he could re-enter without it.

Suppressing a smirk, I pressed the button on the desk to unlock the door. The handle turned slowly, deliberately, before the door creaked open.

He stepped in.

Not a word. Not even a glance. He moved with a purpose, his strides quick, shoulders tense, jaw locked tight. It was like watching a storm walk into the room. The easygoing air he usually carried was gone, replaced by something heavier, darker.

I immediately rose from his chair, giving him space, but my eyes stayed on him. His face was unreadable—yet everything about him screamed restraint.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

“Nothing,” he replied curtly, sliding back into his chair, his eyes locked onto the papers on his desk. His fingers shuffled them, but it was all for show—he wasn’t reading a word. He was pretending I wasn’t there, burying whatever it was under the illusion of work.

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. “Is it about your family or something?”

That made him falter—just for a fraction of a second. His pen stilled. His shoulders tightened further. But then he shook his head, lips tugging into a smile so forced it almost hurt to see.

“No,” he said flatly. “None of your business.”

The words were sharp, but the mask he wore didn’t fool me. That smile wasn’t confidence—it was a shield. Something was eating at him.

“But you seem off,” I pressed gently.

“I’m fine,” he said, voice clipped. “I just need to get back to work.” He waved a dismissive hand as if that settled it. “You can stay if you want.”

His tone was all wrong—too casual, too detached. He was hiding something.

“I mean, I can help you if you need anything,” I offered, trying to bridge the gap. “Do you need money?”

That struck a nerve. His head snapped up so fast I almost flinched.

“Gosh, no!” he snapped, irritation flashing across his face like lightning. “I’m really fine. Stop it.”

The air between us grew taut, silence buzzing in my ears. His eyes, stormy and restless, bored into me for a moment before he dropped them back to his desk.

I raised my hands in surrender, forcing a small, nervous smile. “Okay, okay. Relax.”

But inside, one thought pulsed louder than the rest:

Whatever he’s hiding… it’s bigger than he’s willing to admit.