A Glimpse of Fate
Alexander's POV
The city was cloaked in darkness, its heartbeat a steady, rhythmic pulse that echoed through the streets. Neon lights flickered outside his car window, painting flashes of crimson and gold across the sleek black vehicle as it glided silently down the road. Even after centuries of existence, the nightlife's allure held a certain charm—just not enough to drown out the ceaseless roar inside his head.
"You're restless."
Fenrir's voice slid through his mind, a gravelly growl that vibrated along his nerves. He could feel the wolf's energy, coiled tight and dangerous beneath the surface, straining against the edges of his control. It was a sensation he was intimately familiar with—the beast's impatience, its unrelenting hunger.
"I'm fine," Alexander muttered, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel as he turned onto a quieter street, heading toward his penthouse.
"You're lying." Fenrir's voice rumbled, dripping with dark amusement. "I can feel it. You're thinking about her, aren't you?"
Alexander's jaw tightened, and he forced his thoughts away from the cursed memories he'd tried so hard to bury. "It's irrelevant," he snapped. "The past doesn't matter."
"But it does," Fenrir whispered, his tone softer now, like a breath of wind through a winter forest. "She's the reason we're alone. She's the reason we're… broken."
Alexander's grip tightened on the steering wheel, the leather creaking under the pressure. He knew what Fenrir meant. That night centuries ago—the night the Curse Keeper had sealed his fate—had shattered something fundamental within him. But he couldn't afford to dwell on it. Not now.
He pulled into the underground parking of his building, the car's engine purring softly before he killed the ignition. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back, eyes closing for a brief, stolen moment of peace.
Control. Always, control.
He stepped out of the car, the silence of the garage wrapping around him like a shroud. His steps echoed softly as he made his way to the private elevator, the doors sliding open with a muted hiss. By the time he reached his penthouse, the city was alive with the sounds of nightlife—laughter, music, the hum of distant traffic. Yet within the towering fortress of glass and steel, there was only silence.
And solitude.
Alexander moved through the spacious living area, his gaze skimming past the minimalistic décor, the walls lined with art that spoke of eras long past. This place was a sanctuary, a retreat from the world's chaos. But it was also a cage.
A soft chime interrupted his thoughts. Frowning, he turned toward the source—the glowing screen of his personal computer.
He'd forgotten about the interviews.
With a low curse, he crossed the room, his long fingers tapping commands into the sleek device. The digital interface flickered to life, displaying a series of profiles—the potential assistants his HR team had lined up for him. Each one was neatly categorized, their faces and résumés detailed in cold, clinical precision.
Fenrir stirred. "Boring."
Alexander's lips twitched in reluctant agreement as he scrolled through the profiles. A few promising candidates stood out—highly qualified, with backgrounds in management, finance, and logistics. But there was something… hollow about them. Predictable. Safe.
He didn't want safe.
Not tonight.
"I'll deal with it later," he muttered, already losing interest. He was about to shut the screen off when a name caught his eye.
"Elena Belrose."
The profile was plain compared to the others, the woman's credentials modest at best. A fresh graduate, with experience limited to internships and a few freelance projects. Nothing remarkable. Nothing that should have stood out.
But it did.
He clicked on her photo, enlarging it until the face filled the screen. Dark hair framed a heart-shaped face, her features delicate but expressive. Wide, amber eyes stared back at him, filled with a mix of determination and uncertainty. There was something almost… defiant in her gaze, a challenge that stirred the embers of his curiosity.
And something else—something he couldn't quite name.
Fenrir's reaction was immediate.
"Her."
The wolf's voice was a low growl, vibrating with a strange intensity. Alexander's pulse quickened, a faint, unfamiliar sensation thrumming through him as he studied the image.
"What do you mean?" he murmured, narrowing his eyes.
"Choose her."
"No." Alexander shook his head sharply, trying to dispel the strange sense of déjà vu that washed over him. She was an unknown, a risk. And he didn't take risks. Not with something as personal as this.
But Fenrir was relentless, a primal force that refused to be silenced.
"I know her scent. Her bloodline. She's the one."
The words struck him like a physical blow, sending a jolt of shock through his system. He leaned closer to the screen, staring at the woman's image as if it might reveal her secrets. Her bloodline? That was impossible. He'd made sure—
No. He couldn't think like that. Not now.
Slowly, deliberately, Alexander forced himself to relax. He took a deep breath, willing the tension to drain from his muscles. This was a mistake. A coincidence. She was just another applicant. There was no reason to believe—
"You feel it, don't you?" Fenrir's voice was a taunting whisper, laced with triumph. "The pull. The… familiarity."
Alexander clenched his jaw, but he couldn't deny the truth. There was something about her. Something that made his blood hum, his instincts flare to life. It was dangerous. Reckless.
But he was a creature who had lived through centuries of danger. And recklessness was a vice he'd learned to control.
With a slow, measured movement, he reached for the mouse and selected her profile.
"Fine," he murmured, his voice low. "Let's see what she's made of."
He tapped the confirmation button, sending a request for an in-person interview. It was a gamble. One he knew he shouldn't take.
But as he stared at her image one last time, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"Welcome to my world, Elena Belrose."
For the first time in a long while, anticipation stirred within him—sharp, electric. Whatever happened next, one thing was certain:
This woman—this unremarkable, ordinary applicant—was about to change everything.