Wolvenmark - The Forbidden Mate

Chapter 4 : The Scent of Mystery

Chapter 4 : The Scent of Mystery

Ruby's POV

The towering building loomed before me, its sleek glass panels reflecting the overcast sky. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Today was my first day of work, and although I was excited, an uneasy feeling twisted in my stomach. I told myself it was just nerves—after all, I was lucky to have landed this job so quickly.

Especially after what happened yesterday.

I shook my head, pushing the memory of the coffee spill aside. It was just a minor accident. Nothing worth dwelling on. Right now, I have more important things to focus on.

Steeling myself, I stepped inside. The lobby was grand but minimalistic—clean lines, polished floors, and a color palette that exudes professionalism. Deep grays and blacks dominated the space, their muted elegance lending an almost eerie calm. The entire aesthetic was... wolf-like.

Strange.

The posters, the figurines, even the subtle patterns woven into the decor—it all revolved around wolves. Their eyes, frozen in motion, seemed to follow me as I walked. A cold shiver trailed down my spine, but I quickly dismissed it. It was probably just a branding thing. Companies had themes, right?

I followed the instructions I was given and made my way to the HR department. My footsteps echoed in the near silence, the only other sound being the faint hum of computers and the occasional murmur of conversation behind closed doors. The air smelled of fresh paper, polished wood, and a hint of something else—something crisp and cool, like the forest after a storm.

I pushed the glass door open and found myself face-to-face with the woman who had interviewed me yesterday.

"Good morning," I greeted, trying to sound confident.

She glanced up and gave a polite smile before motioning for me to follow her. "Oh, hello there. You're lucky—you got hired immediately. A lot of applicants have been waiting for weeks to hear back, yet you got in on the same day you applied."

Her words sent a ripple of unease through me. I forced a nervous chuckle, trying to mask the sudden tightness in my chest. "Ah, yeah... Thank you. Hehe."

I cringed inwardly at my own awkwardness, but she didn't seem to notice. Instead, she turned briskly and began walking down the corridor. I hurried to keep up.

The hallway was even quieter than the lobby. Only our footsteps filled the space, each step swallowed by the dark tones of the walls. The decor remained consistent—wolves, everywhere. Their presence lingered in the form of elegant sculptures, shadowy paintings, and intricate carvings that seemed to tell a story I couldn't quite grasp.

A cold sensation pressed against my chest.

I know these symbols.

I don't want to remember why.

I shook my head, forcing the thought away. No. That was the past. It had nothing to do with today. Nothing to do with this job.

Taking a steadying breath, I focused on the woman in front of me and followed her deeper into the heart of the company, ready—or at least trying to be—for whatever lay ahead.

She pressed the elevator button, and as the doors slid open, she stepped inside without a word. I followed, my heart pounding slightly as the doors shut behind us. A mixture of emotions churned within me—excitement, nervousness, anticipation. I wasn't sure what to feel.

When she pressed the button for the 47th floor, my stomach clenched. That was high. Really high. If that was where I'd be working, I'd have to come up here every day. The thought was daunting, but I pushed it aside. I had a job, and that was what mattered.

The ride was silent, the soft hum of the elevator the only sound. The moment the doors slid open, we stepped out into another hushed hallway, mirroring the aesthetic of the lower floors. The same eerie yet elegant wolf-themed decor lined the walls. We passed several glass-paneled offices, their blinds drawn, obscuring whatever lay inside. Finally, we stopped before the last door on the floor.

"This will be your office. This is where you'll be working," she said, pulling a card from her pocket and sliding it through the scanner. A soft beep, then the door clicked open. She pushed it inward, and as soon as I stepped inside, I was greeted by a wave of a rich, fragrant scent—something warm, something calming. It instantly put me at ease.

The room was bigger than I ever could have imagined for someone in my position. Sunlight spilled through tall windows, casting a clean glow over the space. At the center stood a sleek, glass-topped desk—minimalist but commanding—but what truly left me blinking in surprise were the extras. A plush sofa set in the corner, a small dining table with polished wood, even a gleaming fridge and water dispenser humming softly against the wall.

I let out a quiet breath, my brows lifting in astonishment. This is an executive secretary’s office? My tiny apartment could fit in here twice over. If this was my office, how grand must the CEO’s be? A palace?

“Here’s the handbook,” the HR officer said briskly, pulling a thick, weighty volume from the shelf behind me. The cover caught the light, the words Silver Moon Corp. stamped in bold silver foil. She handed it over, and I nearly dropped it—it felt like a brick.

“I expect you to study everything in here so you won’t have to keep asking me about procedures,” she said, her tone clipped.

I stared down at the book as she rattled off its contents. “This covers company policies, job responsibilities, administrative processes, technology and tools, confidentiality guidelines, and emergency protocols. It should answer most of your questions.”

My throat felt dry. I swallowed hard and managed a hoarse, “Okay, thank you.”

She must’ve noticed my overwhelmed expression because her voice softened—though not by much.

“Don’t worry, you’ll learn it gradually. Just don’t be dumb about it.” Her bluntness stung, but there was an odd reassurance hidden underneath. “I’ve already prepared some initial tasks for you today.” She gestured to a neatly stacked pile of documents waiting on my desk.

Relief trickled through me. At least I wouldn’t be sitting here useless, twiddling my thumbs, looking lost.

“Also,” she said, handing me a sleek plastic card, “your access pass. Keep it with you at all times.”

I glanced down, and my breath hitched. My name, photo, employee number, and position were printed clearly, as if I’d been here for months instead of just a day. How did they even prepare this overnight?

After a final round of reminders, she excused herself, leaving me alone in the cavernous silence of my new office.

I exhaled slowly, pressing my palms against the cool surface of the desk. This isn’t going to be easy.

Especially when she had casually mentioned that the CEO might ask me to do things beyond the job description. Fetching coffee. Preparing meals. Running personal errands. I clenched my jaw, reminding myself: The pay is good. I need this job. I can’t afford to mess this up.

I sat down, pulling the chair closer, and stared at the tower of papers waiting for me. “Alright,” I whispered, trying to psych myself up. “Time to get started.”

For a while, the rhythmic tapping of the keyboard and the rustle of pages filled the air. Just as I was getting into the flow, a sudden shrill ring startled me so badly I nearly knocked over my water glass. My eyes darted around until I spotted a square intercom panel tucked beneath the desk.

Heart hammering, I pressed the button before the sound stopped. “Hello, this is Ruby speaking,” I said quickly, my voice betraying my confusion.

“Ruby?” The voice on the other end was deep, male—and oddly uncertain.

“Yes, Ruby, the new secretary,” I replied, a little stiffly.

“Oh, right.” A brief silence followed, stretching just long enough to make me frown. Then came the order, smooth and matter-of-fact: “Ruby, come to my office. And bring me a black coffee as well.”

The line went dead.

I blinked at the intercom, my pulse racing. That voice… it was strangely familiar, though I couldn’t immediately place it. But there was no need to wonder who it was. Who else in this building could summon me like that, expecting coffee as if it were second nature?

The CEO.

Grabbing my bag and the access card, I hurried out, taking the elevator down to the first floor. My nerves hummed like live wires as I made my way to the café. I ordered his coffee—black, no sugar, no cream—and cradled the hot cup like it was some precious artifact I couldn’t dare spill.

Then it was back up again, this time to the 48th floor. HR had mentioned earlier that this level belonged to him alone.

When the elevator doors opened, the atmosphere changed instantly. The corridor stretched long and quiet, lined with doors marked as conference rooms. The faint hum of ventilation filled the silence. At the very end, a set of imposing double doors waited. His office.

I stopped before them, adjusting my grip on the coffee. My fingers felt clammy against the cardboard cup sleeve. Taking a breath to steady myself, I knocked lightly with my free hand.

No response. Only a faint click from the lock.

Taking that as permission, I pushed the door open carefully and stepped inside.

The office was massive, sunlight spilling in through floor-to-ceiling windows, gleaming off polished floors and casting long shadows across sleek furniture.

But all of that faded into the background the moment a scent drifted toward me.

My body stiffened instantly.

That scent.

It wrapped around me, warm and intoxicating, the same one that had clung to me since yesterday, no matter how many times I told myself I was imagining it. Now it was here again—stronger, richer, undeniable.

I froze, the coffee trembling in my hand as my eyes searched the room for its source.

And then—

Oh.