Grace
The car rumbles to a stop outside Theo Waverly's building—a sleek structure with large windows and subtle security features that only someone looking for them would notice.
The modern facade blends seamlessly with the town's aesthetic, but I can see the reinforced glass, the discreet cameras, and the state-of-the-art keypad beside the main entrance.
"You sure about this?" Eli asks, his eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror.
I straighten my blouse—the cleanest one I own, though it's seen better days—and nod. "I need a job. They need someone organized who can keep their mouth shut about supernatural business. Seems like a match."
"Theo can be... intense," Eli warns, turning in his seat to face me. The morning light catches in his hazel eyes, turning them almost golden. "Don't let him intimidate you. Under all that Alpha posturing, he's fair."
"I've dealt with worse than reserved werewolves," I say, more confidently than I feel. In truth, the prospect of working for an Alpha makes my stomach knot—not from fear, exactly, but from the uncertainty of entering another power dynamic I can't control.
From the backseat, Willow pipes up. "Will I get to see the werewolves shift? Like you showed me yesterday, Eli?"
I shoot Eli a look, and he has the grace to appear slightly sheepish. "You shifted for her?"
"Just my hand," he explains, flexing his fingers as if to demonstrate. "She was curious about the difference between her partial shifts and an adult's controlled transformation."
I want to be annoyed, but I can't. Willow needs someone who understands the shifter side of her—a side I can support but never truly comprehend. Still, the casual way Eli has stepped into this role makes my chest tighten with an emotion I'm not ready to name.
"We'll stay right here," Eli promises as I reach for the door handle. "Take your time."
"Can we get popcorn?" Willow asks, pointing to a vendor across the street.
"If your sister says it's okay," Eli replies, looking to me for permission.
I hesitate. Old habits die hard—I don't like being separated from Willow, even for a short time. But we're in the middle of town, in broad daylight, with a wolf-shifter who could track her by scent alone. "Just don't go far," I finally concede.
Willow's face lights up, and Eli gives me a reassuring nod. "We won't go anywhere else. Promise."
Taking a deep breath, I step out of the car and approach the building.
When I enter the code Eli provided, the door clicks open with a soft electronic sound.
Inside, the lobby is surprisingly warm—both in temperature and atmosphere.
The walls are a deep blue, adorned with photographs of forests and mountains.
The reception desk is polished wood, and behind it sits a young woman with a welcoming smile.
The receptionist glances up. "You must be Grace. Theo's expecting you. Down the hall, second door on the right."
I nod my thanks and follow her directions, my footsteps silent on the carpeted floor. I walk to Theo's office and knock firmly on the door.
"Come in," a deep voice commands.
Theo Waverly rises slightly as I enter—not fully standing, but acknowledging my presence with the subtle courtesy of a leader who doesn't need to prove his dominance.
He's tall, with broad shoulders and the kind of presence that fills a room without effort.
His office is surprisingly comfortable—a large desk of the same polished wood as the reception area, bookshelves lining one wall, and large windows overlooking the town square.
"Grace Connelly," he says, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. Not a question but a statement. "Eli speaks highly of you."
"That's generous of him," I reply, taking the seat. I refuse to fidget under Theo's assessing gaze, meeting his eyes steadily instead.
"He says you need a job," Theo continues, leaning back slightly.
"I do," I confirm. "And from what I understand, you need someone to help with administrative work for your security team."
His eyebrow raises slightly. "And what makes you qualified for that position?"
"I've spent the last seven years keeping my sister and myself alive, moving constantly, managing resources, anticipating threats, and staying three steps ahead of people who wanted to find us.
" I lean forward slightly, my voice even.
"I'm organized, I work well under pressure, and I know how to keep secrets.
I'm also very good at spotting patterns—useful when you're filing reports about potential threats. "
"You're human," he points out, though there's more curiosity than accusation in his tone.
"Yes," I acknowledge. "But my sister isn't. And I've been living in the supernatural world long enough to understand the stakes."
Theo studies me, his expression thoughtful rather than dismissive. "Why Whispering Pines? Why now?"
It's the question I've been expecting. For once, I decide on honesty instead of evasion.
"We came for the Sanctuary," I say simply.
"Willow needs to learn about her shifter side in a safe environment.
She deserves stability, a community that understands her.
" I take a breath, finding it easier to speak about Willow's needs than my own.
"Everyone says this is becoming the safest place for supernatural beings.
After years of running... we need that."
"We've neutralized the most dangerous hunters in the area," Theo says. "But that doesn't mean we can relax our guard."
I hesitate, not wanting to oversell myself. "I don't have security experience, but I'm organized and detail-oriented. I've spent years keeping Willow safe, staying vigilant. I can learn whatever systems you need me to manage."
Something shifts in his expression—a flicker of respect, perhaps. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk.
"The job isn't glamorous," he warns. "You'd be coordinating patrol schedules, updating our tracking systems, managing supply deliveries for the Sanctuary construction. Sometimes long hours."
"I can handle it," I assure him. "As long as I can arrange my schedule around Willow's needs."
He considers this, then nods once. "Two-week trial period. You start tomorrow, 9 AM sharp. I'll have someone show you the systems." He pauses, then adds, "I understand your situation is... complicated. If you need flexibility for your sister, we can work something out."
The unexpected accommodation catches me off guard. "Thank you," I manage, trying not to show my surprise. "I won't let you down."
"See that you don't," he says, but there's less edge to his voice than I expected. "Eli vouched for you. That carries weight here."
I'm not sure how to respond to that, so I simply nod and stand. As I turn to leave, Theo adds, "And Grace? Watch yourself in town. Not everyone is as accepting of humans as Blackwell's people. Old prejudices die hard."
The warning sends a familiar chill down my spine, but I manage a tight smile. "I'm used to watching my back."
"I don't doubt it," he replies, and for a moment, I think I see something like sympathy in his eyes. "But here, you don't have to do it alone."
When I step outside, the bright midday sun momentarily blinds me. I pause on the steps, letting the warmth seep into my skin, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease just slightly. For a moment—just a moment—I allow myself to breathe without scanning for threats.
Then reality reasserts itself, and I scan the street, looking for Willow.
My heart stutters for a second before I spot them—Eli and Willow sitting on a bench across the street, sharing a bag of popcorn.
Willow is gesturing wildly, clearly in the middle of a story, and Eli is watching her with complete attention, nodding and smiling at all the right moments.
"And then the squirrel did a flip!" Willow exclaims as I approach. "Like a tiny acrobat!"
"That's impressive," Eli says seriously. "Squirrels are natural athletes, but flips? That's advanced stuff."
Willow giggles, then spots me. "Grace! Did you get the job? Can we stay?" The hope in her voice is almost painful to hear.
Eli looks up, his eyes finding mine. That lopsided grin of his appears, warm and somehow just for me. "Well? Verdict?"
I can't help but smile back—a real smile, not the tight, guarded one I've perfected over years of keeping people at a distance. "I start tomorrow. Two-week trial period."
"I knew you'd get it," Eli says, and there's something in his voice—quiet approval, like he never doubted me for a second—that makes my stomach flutter. It's been a long time since anyone believed in me that way.
???
The forest thickens around us as Eli's truck navigates deeper into Whispering Pines territory. Tall evergreens crowd the narrow dirt road, their branches creating a canopy.
"Where are we going again?" I ask.
Eli's mouth quirks up at one corner. "The Whispering Pines pack community center.
Some of the women run a sort of daycare there for pack kids and other supernatural children.
I thought it might be good for Willow to meet some other kids her age.
" He glances at me. "And for you to meet some of the pack women. "
"I don't need a playdate," I mutter.
He laughs, the sound rich and warm. "Trust me, these aren't the playdate type. They're more the 'could probably take down a hunter with one hand while holding a baby in the other' type."
Despite myself, I smile. "That, I can work with."
The truck rounds a bend, and suddenly the trees part to reveal a sun-dappled clearing.
In the center stands a large timber building, its wide windows reflecting the afternoon light.
A wraparound porch skirts the structure, dotted with rocking chairs and hanging plants.
Behind it, I can make out what looks like a playground, the sound of children's laughter carrying on the breeze.
"It's beautiful," I whisper, not meaning to say it aloud.