Chapter 8
1910 Words
The morning sunlight filtered through the tall windows of Isaldora’s office, casting warm gold over the sleek black floors as she stepped in. Her assistant trailed behind with a tablet clutched to her chest, already poised like she was waiting for a battle plan.
Isaldora sank into her big chair, her sharp gaze flicking toward the clock on the wall.
Renna was late.
Now that was odd. Usually, the girl was here before her—prepped, polished, borderline annoyingly punctual. Renna was many things, but “late” wasn’t one of them.
Isaldora tapped her nails against the desk, sharp clicks breaking the silence, before glancing at her assistant.
“Where’s Renna?”
The woman blinked, startled. “I’m not sure, ma’am. She hasn’t arrived yet.”
And right on cue, the door creaked open.
Renna stepped in.
Isaldora’s eyes narrowed instantly. Not because she was late—but because of how she looked. The girl was dressed like she’d just trekked through a snowstorm. Head to toe, covered up. Except outside the windows the sky was clear, the weather warm—anything but cold.
And the way she walked… stiff, awkward, like every step hurt.
It wasn’t just today either. For weeks now, she had been noticing little shifts—Renna fidgeting more, zoning out almost like day dreaming, looking like she was hiding something. And now this?
Isaldora’s gaze sharpened. Renna usually held her eyes steady, calm but defiant in her own subtle way. Today, though? She couldn’t even look at her. Eyes fluttering, skittish, like a sparrow caught sneaking crumbs.
“You’re late,” Isaldora said coolly, her voice sharp enough to cut.
Renna flushed instantly and let out the most awkward little laugh. “I… I f-fell asleep. Deep… very deep asleep. I was just really, umm… exhausted.” She stumbled over the words like a kid caught red-handed.
Isaldora tilted her head, eyes narrowing further. “Exhausted? From what? Last I checked, I didn’t assign you anything strenuous enough that should have left you half-dead this morning..”
In truth, that was accurate—she hadn’t. The only task Renna had last night was to escort the new girls to the club and ensure they understood their role. Hardly enough to wear someone down. So why was Renna standing here flushed, sheepish, and claiming exhaustion?
Renna fumbled, chewing the inside of her cheek, her gaze fixed on the floor like it had all the answers. Then she blurted, too quickly, “I… it wasn’t the work. I mean, not exactly. I—I was doing some workouts.” She forced a shaky laugh.
“Workouts?” Isaldora’s brow arched, one corner of her lip twitching up. “Really? Funny… last time we spoke about workouts, you swore you were too lazy to bother. And now you’re late because of them?” Her voice was smooth, sharp-edged with sarcasm.
Renna went redder than a ripe tomato.
“I… I just thought maybe it’s good to stay in shape, y’know? So I gave it a try.” She shifted from one foot to the other, wincing. Her body screamed sore in every possible way.
Isaldora leaned forward, irritation seeping into her tone. “What exactly were you doing, because the way you’re squirming around, it looks like you ran a marathon. Twice.”
Renna’s face practically burst into flames. Because that was exactly what her night had felt like. Her mind betrayed her—flashes of lips against her skin, rough hands pinning her down, that consuming fire between pleasure and pain. Her breath caught, a shiver running through her before she could stop it.
Because truth was… it wasn’t just last night. Nearly every night had been like that now, ever since she’d lost her virginity to the stranger at the club. He had been returning back to her like a shadow she couldn’t shake.. A secret she couldn’t explain.
Isaldora’s eyes narrowed to slits looking at Renna smiling out of nowhere. “And why the hell are you smiling like a creep?” Her voice was flat, dripping irritation. “Plus, your face looks like it’s about to explode.”
Renna stiffened, trying to smother the heat in her cheeks. “I-it’s nothing,” she rushed, forcing the weakest smile known to humankind.
Out of the corner of her eye, Isaldora caught her assistant failing miserably to hide a smirk.
Her head snapped toward her. “Something funny?”
The assistant paled on the spot, shaking her head violently. “N-no, ma’am.”
“Good.” Isaldora let her silence hang heavy before turning back to Renna.
“If your so-called workouts are gonna make you late…” Her tone was calm, uninterested, but the sarcasm underneath was razor-sharp. “…then you’ll be doing them with me from now on. That way you don’t get ‘exhausted.’” She pressed on the word, watching as Renna’s face darkened to the color of blood.
Isaldora studied her, genuinely confused now. Nothing she’d said was worth embarrassment, yet Renna looked like a guilty child about to combust. Her eyes darted everywhere but Isaldora, cheeks blazing, body tense.
“Would that be a problem?” Isaldora asked softly, her calm tone carrying an unspoken warning.
Renna swallowed so hard it was audible, then shook her head. “N-no. It’s fine. I’ll… I’ll join you.”
“Good.” Isaldora leaned back, adjusting a bracelet at her wrist as if the whole exchange meant nothing. “You do remember we’re expected at the party tonight, right?”
Renna froze mid-breath. “Tonight?” Panic flared across her face before she ducked her gaze, trying to hide it. She could barely stand, let alone strut around a party.
Isaldora’s eyes narrowed. “Would that be a problem?”
Renna twisted her fingers together, fumbling. “Ummm… I—I don’t think I can. I’m not feeling well.” The words came out sheepish, nervous, weak.
“Not feeling well?” Isaldora’s tone dropped colder, sharper.
Renna scrambled. “It’s just… the workouts. I’m sore, y’know? Because of the exercise.” She tacked on a soft, nervous laugh, but her voice cracked under Isaldora’s scrutiny.
Isaldora’s lips thinned. The girl’s behavior was downright bizarre, borderline creepy. Still, she wasn’t about to waste energy digging.
She turned to her assistant instead. “You’ll join me for the party, then. Since someone here is acting useless.”
Her words cut sharp, but Renna—though stung—looked secretly relieved. At least she wouldn’t have to drag herself out tonight.
——
Isaldora stepped into the hotel lobby, her gaze sweeping across the hall. The place thrummed with power—businessmen, investors, tycoons, and more than a few who weren’t entirely human. Everyone here was somebody. And then there was her.
The midnight-lazuli dress clung to her like a second skin, sequins catching the chandelier light so she shimmered with each step. Crystals dusted along the neckline like a trail of stars stitched against her skin. Her expression was cool, unreadable, the practiced poker smile that never slipped. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a sleek high ponytail, sharp and elegant. Heels tapped softly against the marble, each step confident, unhurried.
Hushed voices followed her as she walked, but she didn’t so much as flick an eyelash. Her assistant moved beside her, efficient, silent.
“Ah, Ms. Isla Aether,” a smooth voice greeted. “At last we meet the elusive heiress behind such an exceptional empire.”
She saw man in his thirties approaching her, polished in a tailored suit, smile easy as he extended his hand.
Isaldora returned the gesture with her own measured smile, her grip brief but firm. “You must be Mr. Revadi.”
“The only,” he replied with a grin. “Thank you for granting us your presence tonight.”
“You’re being generous,” she countered lightly. “I should be thanking you for inviting me.”
“Please,” Revadi chuckled. “I guarantee everyone here has been dying to meet you.” His words were warm, well-practiced—the kind of charm that oiled business deals.
She nodded, letting him lead her through the sea of glittering guests. Isaldora let him lead her through the glittering crowd, her poised smile never faltering as she exchanged pleasantries with the investors who flocked to her. She was mid-conversation when a chill traced her spine. She felt a heated gaze on her. She turned her head to the side and her eyes locked with a handsome man.
He stood only a few feet away, broad shoulders cutting a figure of dark elegance, a glass of whiskey loose in his hand. Clad in a midnight suit, that defined his sharp form, but it was his eyes that hit her hardest—steel-grey, locked on her like a match struck in the dark.
Power radiated off him, loud and heavy, impossible to miss. He was clearly a werewolf, she could sense his aura. Must be an alpha, she thought.
“Ah, Miss Aether,” one of the investors chimed smoothly, breaking the silence that stretched too long. “Allow me to introduce Mr. Kaelith Bane. CEO of Bane Co.—they’ve practically built Duskhowl from the ground up. A name well respected in… exclusive circles.”
Interesting, Isaldora thought, her smile tightening at the corners as she looked at him fully. So this was the Alpha Prince of the Duskhowl pack.
Kaelith had been watching her since the moment she walked in. He wasn’t the type to stare—women came and went without stirring even a flicker of interest. But her? She’d stopped him in his tracks. He’d heard Aether’s name whispered here and there, but never cared enough to look closer. Until now.
Seeing her, he felt something he couldn’t shake. A pull, sharp and raw, like gravity itself had shifted. It wasn’t just her beauty, though God, she was breathtaking, that would’ve been easy to brush off. No—this was deeper, hungrier. Stronger
His wolf—usually calm, controlled, plus who never gave a damn about women before, prowled restless beneath his skin, pushing at him to get closer.
Isaldora felt the weight of his stare—hot, unflinching. It wasn’t the usual wide-eyed admiration she was used to. No, this was different. There was a hunger in it, raw and daring… and it left her half amused, half thrown off.
“Miss Aether,” she heard him say at last, extending his hand stepping forward, a bit closer, his voice smooth but it sent shivers down her spine. “You’ve got quite a presence. It’s as if the room itself shifted when you arrived.”
“Mr. Bane.” She glanced at his outstretched hand, then accepted it with a graceful shrug. “What can I say?”
The moment their palms met, a current jolted through her. Her eyes widened for only a heartbeat before her composure returned, her smile unreadable.
Kaelith’s reaction was less subtle. His wolf surged, snapping to attention. Her touch burned—not the usual spark of attraction, but something sharper, stranger. He inhaled deeply, testing her scent. To his dismay, it was faint. Too faint. Almost muted to pick. Confusion stirred through him, because despite the pull coiling in his chest, everything about her screamed human yet powerful.
Something about her wasn't adding up.
- Writer
