Chapter 3: The Line Between Duty and Desire

Alyia's POV

I couldn't help but wonder—maybe, just maybe, he finally wanted to explain.

Maybe he would tell me that everything I'd seen today wasn't what it seemed. Even just one sentence would be enough.

I slowly turned to face him.

Daniel stood there, his expression no different from usual.

"The contract with West Group—we're signing tomorrow. I need you to organize the materials tonight for the board's preliminary review."

My breath caught, and the last fragile hope in my chest shattered like glass crushed between careless fingers. So that was why he'd called me back—not because he couldn't bear to let me go, not to offer any explanation, but simply for work.

I nodded slightly. "Alright."

I didn't ask another question, didn't spare him another glance, and turned to leave. Behind me, the door closed with a soft click.

In that moment, I realized that the marriage I'd held onto for two years, stripped of the hollow shell of the Moon Goddess's decree, was nothing more than a cold Vice President work badge.

The next afternoon, I accompanied Daniel to West Group. Their lead representative praised our intelligent medical care project effusively and signed the partnership agreement on the spot.

When the meeting ended, West Group's executive stood with a broad smile. "Daniel, we finally made it happen. How about we celebrate over dinner?"

Daniel nodded. "Sounds good."

Our group arrived at the restaurant, where the atmosphere grew more relaxed. I sat quietly beside Daniel, my expression neutral, occasionally responding to key questions with the most professional terminology I could muster.

Then a glass of high-proof liquor appeared before me.

"Miss Carter."

The executive held up his glass, his gaze carrying that oily, probing quality unique to seasoned business wolves. "You're the real hero today. Let's drink to that."

I accepted the glass with polite detachment. "Thank you."

I'd barely taken a sip when the man pulled his chair closer instead of moving away, settling beside me. As an ordinary werewolf, his scent—invasive and suggestive—pressed against me in a cloying wave that made me frown in discomfort.

"A omega woman as accomplished as you—surely you must have a boyfriend?"

I offered a polite smile. "That's a personal question."

"Don't be so formal." The man grinned and reached out as if to pat my shoulder, but before his hand could make contact, another hand had already seized my wrist.

In the next second, a familiar scent enveloped me completely as Daniel pulled me into his arms.

Then an aura belonging to a top-tier Alpha—savage and utterly destructive—erupted like a detonation, swallowing the entire restaurant in a tidal wave of dominance.

The whole table fell into instant silence. Everyone present can felt their legs weaken under the terrifying Alpha pressure, nearly dropping to their knees in blood-bound submission.

Daniel raised his eyes, green irises flashing with cold light. "She's mine."

Five words, and the partner's smile froze on his face.

"Daniel, I was only—"

"I said—stay. Away. From. Her." Daniel enunciated each word, a low growl rumbling from his throat—the warning of a beast defending its territory and possessions with absolute, unquestionable authority.

I stood stunned in Daniel's embrace, my nose filled with the woody scent as they wrapped around me possessively, soothing the fright I'd just experienced.

No one in the restaurant spoke another word. I remained frozen in Daniel's arms, and suddenly I remembered something from many years ago.

Back then, I was still a helpless orphan, scraping by in a household of rogue werewolves who'd only taken me in for the government subsidies. When my foster mother got drunk, she'd hurl broken bottles at me; when my foster father lost at gambling, he'd unleash the brutal aura of a low-ranking wolf to torment me.

The year I turned fourteen, my foster father racked up massive gambling debts. That night, he grabbed my wrist and shoved me toward a black sedan.

"Just have dinner with those gentlemen—you're pretty enough for it."

I struggled and screamed, but no one helped. Just as the car door was about to slam shut, a voice suddenly rang out.

"Let her go."

I looked up against the dim streetlight, and my breath caught. It was him. The boy I had convinced myself I would never see again—the same boy who had once lain in a pool of blood, covered in wounds. He had grown up, but I recognized him the instant my eyes landed on him. He was wearing a white shirt, clean and spotless.

My foster father cursed and lunged at him, only to be knocked down with a single punch. Daniel walked over to me and draped his jacket around my shoulders.

"Don't be afraid. No one's taking you anywhere."

Those simple words broke me completely, and I dissolved into tears.

Later, Daniel reported everything to the police and helped me connect with schools and social services, finally freeing me from that nightmare. From that day forward, I'd loved him for ten straight years.From then on, if you counted the marriage.

And now, once again, he stood between me and harm. My nose tingled with the threat of tears. Maybe he truly wasn't completely indifferent to me.

I looked up at Daniel—but in that very moment, he released me.

He straightened his cuffs, his expression returning to its usual calm. "Don't misunderstand."

His tone was detached. "You're Sterling Group's Vice President. You represent Sterling Group. I won't allow anyone to damage the company's image."

One sentence, and every bit of hope I'd just felt crumbled to dust. So it was still about the company, still about responsibility—never about me.

The partner apologized profusely, and the atmosphere gradually normalized, though I couldn't bring myself to say another word.

Then Daniel's phone rang.

He glanced at the screen, and I caught sight of the name.

Della.

He answered almost without hesitation. From the other end came a girl's tearful, slightly hoarse voice.

"Daniel... when are you coming back? Tonight's the eve of the full moon, and my wolf form is going wild. I'm so scared being home alone... I miss you so much..."

Daniel was silent for two seconds. "Wait for me."

He hung up, grabbed his coat, and stood. "Handle the rest."

Without another word—without even a backward glance—he turned and left.

The restaurant door closed slowly, and I stood there watching his figure disappear. My chest felt compressed, as though a stone had been placed over my heart—heavy and suffocating.

Yet somehow, it didn't hurt as much as it had yesterday. I realized, with bitter irony, that I'd been deceiving myself for the past two years.

I'd kept telling myself that Daniel loved me—because he'd saved me, because his instinct was always to shield me, because whenever danger came, I was the one he protected.

So I forgave him again and again, told myself over and over to wait just a little longer, that maybe tomorrow would be different.

But today, I finally understood something.

Daniel would protect me when danger struck—driven by the primal instinct to guard what belonged to him—but he would never, in the aftermath, choose me decisively and without reservation.

Because choosing me meant bowing to the Moon Goddess, admitting that he had, after all, fallen for the Luna fate had selected for him.

With Daniel's pride, he would rather hurt me repeatedly than acknowledge that truth.

I exhaled slowly.

The thing that had trapped me all along wasn't this marriage—it was myself.

Just then, my phone rang.

I glanced at the screen. Unknown number.

"Hello?"

A pause on the other end, then a low, warm voice spoke.

"Alyia. It's been a while."