THE ALPHAS RESORT

Talia’s POV The cold air hits me the moment the shuttle doors slide open. It’s sharper than anything I’m used to—clean, biting, alive. Snow crunches under my boots as I step out, lifting my eyes to the massive building towering above the pines. The Alpha’s Resort. It’s even more intimidating in person. All glass, steel, and stone, glowing softly against the snowy mountain backdrop. Warm light spills through the windows like it’s daring me to come closer. My suitcase handle trembles in my grip. Maybe because of the cold. Maybe because this place feels like it’s watching me. “First time up north?” the driver asks. I nod. “Yeah.” He gives me a sympathetic smile before driving off, leaving me standing alone in the silence of Silver Harbor’s winter peak. I inhale, exhale, and force myself toward the entrance. This internship is supposed to be my fresh start. My reset button. My chance to finally prove—to myself more than anyone—that I’m not weak, not broken, not the scared girl who left home three months ago. Inside, heat washes over me. The lobby looks like a scene from a winter movie—grand chandelier, crackling fireplace, polished floors reflecting golden light. Staff members glide around like everything here is effortless. A woman in a sleek uniform approaches. “You must be Talia.” I blink. “Yes—how did you—?” “We’ve been expecting you. Follow me.” Her tone is polite, but clipped. Efficient. I trail behind her, my heartbeat loud in my ears. My eyes graze over everything—velvet chairs, modern art, a wall of glass overlooking the snowy valley. It’s beautiful. Almost too beautiful. She stops abruptly and turns to me. “The owner will meet you before you’re shown to your quarters. He likes to personally vet new staff. He’s very… particular.” My stomach tightens. “The owner? As in—” Before I can finish, I feel it. A presence. Heavy. Sharp. Electric. Like the air suddenly thickens. The woman steps aside. And he’s standing there. Damian Frost. The Alpha himself. Tall, broad-shouldered, wrapped in a black winter coat that fits him too well. His dark hair is slightly tousled, as if he just walked out of a snowstorm—yet not a single thing about him looks out of place. But it’s his eyes that hit me the hardest. Storm-gray. Cold. Assessing. Like he sees everything. Like he sees through me. “Miss Talia,” he says. His voice is low and smooth, but there’s an edge under it—danger wrapped in velvet. I swallow. “Mr. Frost.” He steps closer, stopping just a few feet away. Too close. Not close enough. I can’t decide. “You’re late.” My breath stutters. “My flight was delayed, sir.” “I don’t accept delays.” His gaze flicks down to my suitcase, then back up to my face. Only his eyes move—his body remains perfectly still, controlled. “I… I understand,” I manage. He takes one slow breath through his nose, like he’s smelling the air between us. Like he’s… testing something. My pulse spikes. “I gave the internship to someone who can follow instructions,” he says flatly. The words punch the air out of my chest. “What? But— I received the confirmation— I came all the way—” His eyes sharpen, and the rest of my sentence dies. “Do you make a habit of raising your voice at your superiors?” he asks softly. Almost too softly. “No. I just— I didn’t mean— I’m sorry.” Silence stretches between us. Long. Heavy. Then something shifts in his expression. A tiny flicker—too quick to read. He steps past me, close enough that the heat of his body brushes the sleeve of my coat. My breath catches. At the luggage cart, he stops. “Bring her things to staff housing,” he orders someone behind me. Then he turns back to me, eyes colder than before. “You have one week to prove you’re worth the inconvenience.” My chest tightens. “Yes, sir.” His jaw flexes. “I’m not ‘sir’.” A pause. “I’m Mr. Frost.” I nod quickly. “Yes, Mr. Frost.” “Good.” He studies me again, slower this time. I feel heat coil low in my stomach for reasons I’m not ready to admit. Without another word, he turns and walks away, his footsteps echoing through the lobby. I let out a shaky breath only when he disappears around the corner. The woman from earlier steps forward, her eyes wide with something like pity—or warning. “Welcome to The Alpha’s Resort, Talia,” she murmurs. “Try not to get on his bad side.” I force a smile I don’t feel. Too late, I think. Way too late.