Chapter 2 Who He Really Is

Heaven had always liked the idea of flying.

It started when she watched her mom dance on the hill near their old cabin.

However, it’s only when she got to actually dance she realized that as much as dancing was close to flying, she could also hurt or lose her wings. And she could fall—hard. Like now.

For the past fourteen years, she has been training in dance. The last seven years is when she started training professionally, though.

Now she’s in her finals. But dance just had a huge breakup with her.

She failed, which means she doesn’t get a job in the National Dance Company—her dream job—and she won’t earn a good recommendation into any other big dance companies.

She’s a rogue, once again. Always a rogue.

As much as she doesn’t want to remain a rogue forever, she has no choice but to. Seven years ago when she was only fourteen, her rogue parents were murdered, and she fled from the wolf world with a vow never to return.

She decided to stay in the human world.

Her first months in the human world were tough. She experienced extreme brutality, sexual assaults, and several inhumane treatments until she took to sleeping near the school building with the hope that the school’s security would protect her.

That was how she heard of the scholarship audition in the school of dance. Then, she thought she only needed a roof above her head and food in her belly. So, she auditioned for the scholarship and surprisingly passed.

Later, she started taking it seriously. She found more joy in dancing for a professional purpose than dancing like her mother, who did it as a healing exercise.

However, once again, everything has snapped and shattered.

She knows this is what affected her dance—her anger for the world. It haunts her wherever she goes. It’s even now seeming as if the entire universe finds pleasure in frustrating her. And she doesn’t have a clue of how to fight it.

She can’t go back to the school lodge. She’ll only feel more miserable about her existence, especially when she sees the final years who passed celebrating in the lodge lobby.

No. She can’t put herself through all that.

“As long as he’s not an Alpha, I can endure it,” she mutters to herself.

What’s there not to endure? He’s just a wolf, after all. Yes, she may meet other wolves too, and maybe even an Alpha, but it doesn’t mean she’ll be living with the latter.

“Stalking me wasn’t a good call, Mister,” she says to the man who’s still standing. “Why should I trust you now?”

Ziason turns to face Heaven. Instead of answering the question immediately, the side of his lips pull up into a smirk, yet that doesn’t affect the vivid look of his eyes.

The same eyes that draw Heaven’s attention like a magnet to iron, that are shielded beneath thick brows and long clustered lashes. And it doesn’t help that his pompadour-styled ebony hair falls over his forehead in moist strands, highlighting a certain kind of visual ecstasy that Heaven didn’t know existed.

“I know a lot about you, Heaven Litotes,” he finally responds. And Heaven finds it hard to believe he even knows her full name. “I know there are no records of you in the werewolf world, which means you are a rogue. And in the human world, your school record says you lost your parents when you were fourteen. It states you do not know how they disappeared. I like to know the secrets and the weak spots of whoever I’m working with. But, with you, there’s nothing. Honestly, it’s thrilling. It makes me want to find out more about you. And, believe me, I will.”

For some reason, Heaven enjoys the challenge. She didn’t think she would love something so weird and probably twisted, but she does.

Maybe it’s the kind of person she would have grown to become had her parents not died, thereby turning her life completely upside down.

“I’ll do it,” she affirms, thrusting her long slender chin forward. “I’ll teach your child how to dance. But then you’ll have to pay me.”

For the first time, Heaven sees what looks like a genuine smile come across Ziason’s face. He approaches Heaven again, this time stretching his right hand out to her.

“You are a strong one, Heaven,” he mumbles, “it’s why I picked you for this job.”

Heaven accepts the hand and covertly turns it to the back—just to make sure he has no scar on that hand. There’s none, thankfully.

She looks up to catch Ziason’s gaze as he stares down at her. It’s quite enthralling, a dark shade swirling around his narrowed eyes.

Heaven doesn’t know what it is, but this man in front of her screams of danger from all round; his dressing, his thick hair that’s styled to loom over his forehead down to his eyes, not to talk of the eyes themselves.

The blank intensity in their stare look so unnatural, and their color—it’s a bit uncanny.

One moment, they’re a rich dim red, sort of burgundy.

The next moment, they adopt the shade of ashes.

And moments like now when she’s sticking her gaze on them and catching their color switching only feels unearthly, as if there’s magic settled beneath his irises.

She should be scared of him.

His stalking habit should have already convinced her to run for her dear life. Plus, entering a slick car that belongs to a total stranger isn’t how anyone should end such a stormy and gloomy night.

But Heaven thinks she knows all the dangers in the world.

In this past seven years, she has gone through most of the things anyone in their 70s can boost of experiencing, so she forgot the meaning of danger.

She has forgotten the meaning of anything in fact, except fear. Not fear of anyone. Fear of herself.

Heaven has always been scared of feeling miserable. Because it’s that feeling that brings about self-sabotage—the disgust for herself and her existence.

It’s why she didn’t succumb to Lulu and Hector’s request. Because if she did, she’d only hate herself, and end up thinking of several ways to get rid of herself. She can only do that by suicide. That’s the last thing she wants right now.

No matter how she looks at it, she still wants to live. She wants to prove to this forsaken world that she can make it. It wants her to fail, but she won’t let it watch her do so.

Ziason squishes Heaven’s hand softly. “Let’s go?”

She nods before he leads the way to his car.

The vehicle reeks of the man alone; the smell of first rain showers meeting scorched earth, with a hint of calming mildness that Heaven can’t decipher.

But that’s not his wolf smell. His wolf scent rather lingers—like a vivid aroma of pinewood. She loves the latter scent more, and wishes it was thicker.

Aside from that, Heaven also notices the squealing luxury in the car. She has never boarded a limousine before, and she never for once thought the seat arrangement was different from any other car. Now she knows.

Rubbing the fine leather of the seat, she can’t help but smile before looking at the man, who’s sitting opposite her.

“That is your contract. Go through it,” he mutters while gesturing to a thick paper by his side.

Heaven immediately reaches for it. Then she scans its wordings with her eyes.

She already knows she has to teach a seven-year-old how to dance. However, she’s only now finding out she has to live in a lonely place with the girl alone for five years. No phone. No way of contacting the outer world.

“Is this right? Five years. Isn’t it too much to have me locked up for such a long time?” she voices her displeasure.

Ziason gives her a perfect response. “Have you seen the numbers you will be get?”

Yes, she’s looking at it right now. Three billion rakis per month. And it’s cash.

“Are you that wealthy?” she asks even though it’s a dumb one, seeing his vehicle alone.

“If you had to pick between half a decade of freedom with nothing, and five years of bondage with all your expenses covered while receiving such amount every month, which would you chose?” Ziason queries nonchalantly.

Heaven doesn’t reply. She isn’t even thinking about it. She just stares at the digits, her brain totally blank.

“Let us ditch the future, regard the present,” Ziason continues. “What happens when you reject this and walk out of this car? You return to the lodge, realize you are really doomed, then you repeat final year while struggling with your part-time jobs. But at the end of the year, you still gain nothing. No better jobs. More frustration. Even if you decide it’s a waste of time to repeat final year, and decide to drop out, your life still won’t turn any better.”

Heaven heard everything he said, yet only the last sentence stuck—the one that finally wakes her up.

“Who says I were rejecting the offer?” she asks the man. “My mind was already made up the moment I dialed your contact.”

Heaven proceeds to sign the contract, placing it back on Ziason’s seat and leaning back in hers to watch the man with a deadpan expression.

Ziason smirks, then looks out the window behind her just as the car kicks off. “Your bravery astounds me, Heaven,” he mutters while returning his gaze to Heaven.

He finds her still staring. Not many people have been able to look at him straight up like that, or hold his gaze. Only his brothers could afford to do that, yet here’s this tiny redhead girl in her little coat staring at him like he’s her next plaything.

But then she doesn’t know, does she, about who he really is?

“Tell me, Heaven,” he starts while squinting his eyes and cocking his head to the side, “what is your beef with Alphas?”