Bound by Flame & Fang

Episode 8

Ariel's POV:

“I can’t sit around forever, Ann,” I muttered, scrolling through the job listings on my phone.

“You need to rest, Aria,” my neighbour friend said, shoving another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “Your breakup just happened. Normal people don’t bounce back this fast.”

“I’m not normal,” I whispered, my throat tight. Not normal at all.

Ann sighed, peering at my screen. “Wait, look at that one. The Blackthorne Tower.”

I froze. The tallest building in the city. Everyone knew it. Sleek, untouchable, glowing like a beacon at night. The headquarters of Blackthorne Holdings. the company that controlled half the city. This company has topped chart for good 7 years, it's unbeatable.

My heart thudded. I wanted to get a job there so bad but I knew, they would never take me.”

I said sadly to my friend. "They will never take me, everyone who works there has a degree from Harvard, in business."

But she was not buying that, she said. “Apply anyway. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I bit my lip, staring at the screen. “The worst is I will get rejected.” I said my face falling.

Ann nudged me. “Or the best—that you actually get it. Come on hit that button already, be positive." She urged me.

I hesitated only a moment longer before hitting apply.

Damian’s POV:

“Sir, new applicants came in today.” My assistant slid a slim folder onto my desk.

I barely looked up from my laptop. “Leave them.”

She hesitated. “There’s one unusual. The panel flagged it. Because it's was creative design. Plus she doesn't have a good background. Just raw talent.”

That made me cut my attention because, she never approved anyone. I reached for the file, flipping it open.

I saw the name and then a face.

My chest tightened. No. It couldn’t be.

The photograph was small, but my wolf lunged the moment my eyes touched it. Her.

My grip on the file tightened until the paper crumpled.

“Hire her,” I said, voice flat.

The assistant blinked. “Sir, don’t you want to interview” she was shocked and confused.

“I said, hire her. Immediately.” I cut her off without letting her finish.

She nodded quickly and rushed out.

Now left alone, I stared down at her picture again. The same lips I’d kissed. The same eyes that had haunted me every night since.

Finally, a low smile tugged at my lips.“Found you.”

Ariel's POV:

I woke to the sound of my alarm shrieking like it hated me.

The sun had barely crept above the skyline, spilling weak orange light into my tiny apartment. My body begged to roll back into the sheets, and I was about doing that when my phone bused with a notification.

I said to myself. "Ann not now please, I'm sleeping."

But I still managed to answer get my phone, I was ready to lash out on Ann for disturbing my sleep, when I saw an Interview massage that's read, *"*we are thrilled to inform you that your application for the position of creative design has been approved and we demand and interview from you. Be here by 9am. From Blackthorne."

My whole body tensed up, my phone fall off my hands, my mouth spread wide open like a hungry lion. I check my time and saw it was already pass 7 am, I almost screamed.

Without thinking I jumped out of my bed and ran to the bathroom. I quickly took a shower and put on my clothes in no time, I didn't know I was faster than fash until this moment.

"Don’t screw this up" I said to myself. It wasn’t just any interview. This was at Blackthorne Holdings the tallest, most intimidating building in the city. They didn’t just hire people; they consumed them, churned them into something polished and rich.

And me? I was me. A girl still piecing her heart back together.

I stood in front of my closet. One broken hinge, three wire hangers, and a mess of clothes that screamed college dropout chic. Nothing said corporate goddess. My fingers trailed over the wrinkled blouse, then a faded dress, then the black slacks that had seen better days.

“Perfect,” I muttered. “Maybe if I tilt my head just right, they won’t notice the coffee stain.” I said to myself as I smiled.

The city was already alive. Cars honking, vendors shouting, the smell of roasted chestnuts mingling with exhaust fumes. I clutched my folder of printed resumes like it was a shield.

Blackthorne Holdings Tower, rose ahead of me, an impossible spike of glass and steel scraping the sky. It gleamed like it owned the sun itself.

I stopped at the entrance, staring up. “What am I even doing here?” I whispered.

People brushed past, heels clicking, suits crisp, confidence radiating. I was just… Aria. No polished résumé, no designer heels. Just desperation, and a fire that refused to die even when everything else had.

I forced my legs to move.

Inside, the lobby swallowed me whole. Every single thing was Polished. Polished marble floors reflected the chandeliers above. Security guards stood like statues, eyes scanning for weakness. My breath caught as I approached the receptionist’s desk.

She looked up, her hair pulled into a perfect chignon, her lipstick a shade that probably cost more than my rent. “Good morning,” she said, voice honeyed but detached. “Interview candidates?”

“Yes,” I managed. My voice cracked. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Yes. Aria…” I hesitated, biting my tongue.

Don’t say your real last name. Don’t give them anything that ties back to what you are. “…Aria Blake.”

She typed something quickly, then handed me a badge. “Floor thirty-two. Conference Room B. Good luck.” she said smiling politely.

But I didn’t miss the flicker in her eyes. The silent judgment, the sizing up. I wasn’t their usual breed. I was not wearing luxurious outfit. But I smiled, tight and false, and moved on. I went to the elevator that and press the floor I was heading to.

The elevator ride was torture. Twenty other candidates stood crammed beside me, every single one dressed in sleek suits, their shoes polished enough to blind me. They reeked of ambition, confidence and expensive cologne.

I hugged my folder tighter, wishing I could melt into the walls. I was reminded of how small I am.

“Lucente doesn’t just hire,” one guy bragged to the girl beside him. His voice was loud enough for the whole elevator.

“They handpick. And once you’re in, you’re set for life. If you survive, that is.” The girl giggled nervously.