The radiant lights of the conference room hummed with a low-frequency buzz that seemed to vibrate against Azaria's teeth. She took her seat at the small, mahogany table and every movement she made felt stiff. She was not comfortable with the whole situation. She smoothed the fabric of her skirt, her gaze fixed on the empty chair across from her, though she was acutely aware of Theon standing by the window.
Theon appeared to be very calm and composed. Something she wasn't at the moment. His hands were tucked casually into his pockets, his shoulders square, and his expression unreadable. To any outside observer, he was a man in total control of his emotions. Internally, however, Theon felt like his internal organs were being put through a paper shredder. His heart hammered a frantic beat against his ribs, a rhythm he was certain she would be able to hear if she were like him. His own scent wafted into his nose. It was usually a crisp scent of cedarwood and cologne, but now, it was spiking with a sharp, metallic tang of pure anxiety.
He cleared his throat, the sound echoed in the small space. He didn't sit. He couldn't bring himself to. If he sat, he felt like he might vibrate right out of the chair and embarrass himself.
"Miss Freeman," he began, his voice steady despite the chaos in his mind. "Thank you for meeting with me. I wanted to speak with you privately regarding the recent decision made by the executive board. I wanted to personally apologize for them passing you over for the Director of Operations promotion."
Azaria tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing. "I appreciate that, Mr. Aldrith."
Theon took a breath, feeling a small surge of confidence. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted her to know that he saw her, that he valued her, but the words that left his mouth were filtered through a lifetime of alpha-bred entitlement and a fundamental misunderstanding of how human corporate politics actually felt to a woman who had worked twice as hard as everyone else.
"The board's decision was... complex," Theon continued, pacing a small line near the window. "While you are incredibly efficient at the tasks assigned to you and that of Callaghan's position, you have a certain– how do I put it?– a certain 'nurturing' simplicity that makes you invaluable where you are. You're just so well-suited for the supportive, foundational work. It's a compliment, really. Most people lack the temperament to be content in the shadows the way you are."
Azaria felt a slow, hot burn climb up the back of her neck. Nurturing simplicity? She stared at him, waiting for the punchline, but Theon looked earnest. He genuinely thought he was paying her a tribute.
"Go on," she said, her voice dropping an octave.
Theon, sensing and believing he was on a roll, nodded. "Exactly. We didn't want to burden you with the 'ugly' side of leadership. It is all about aggression and cutthroat decision-making. You have such a soft, manageable presence, Azaria. It would be a shame to ruin that by giving you actual authority that would clearly overwhelm your natural disposition. It's better for everyone if you stay where you can be protected from those pressures."
The silence that followed was heavy enough to choke someone. Azaria didn't blink. The blatant insult felt like a physical slap, wrapped in the cheap gift wrap of his "apology." He hadn't just told her she wasn't good enough; he had told her she was a decorative piece of furniture that might break if used too hard.
"Are you finished?" Azaria asked.
Theon smiled a small, hopeful smile. "I just wanted you to understand that it wasn't a slight against your character. If anything, it's a validation of how well you fit into your current role."
Azaria stood up so abruptly that her chair screeched against the linoleum. The sound made Theon flinch, his wolf-senses recoiling at the sudden spike of her adrenaline.
"If you just wanted to insult me, Mr. Aldrith, you could have saved us both the ten minutes and just said it without trying to sugar-coat it," she snapped. Her hands were clenched at her sides, her knuckles white.
Theon's smile vanished, replaced by a look of profound and genuine confusion. "Insult you? Miss Freeman, I'm defending you. I'm explaining why your current position is one of the highest honours for someone like you."
"Like me?" She let out a short, harsh laugh. "I'm done. We're done here."
She turned on her heel and marched toward the door. Theon stood frozen for a second, his brain short-circuiting. To him, he had just told her she was a precious, foundational element of his company. To her, he had just called her incompetent and weak.
"Miss Freeman, wait!" he called out, finally breaking his "calm" facade. He scrambled after her, his long strides catching up to her just as she hit the hallway. "I think you've misunderstood! I was being supportive!"
Azaria didn't look back. She marched toward the elevator bank, her heels clicking against the floor. The HR department was just around the corner, and several employees were already peeking over their cubicle walls at the sight of the CEO trailing after the manager of operations for the second time that day.
"Miss Freeman, please!" Theon pleaded, reaching out as if to touch her shoulder, then pulling back as if burned. "I didn't mean to insult you. I was trying to say that you are valuable here." He lowered his voice not to draw any more attention.
"Valuable?" she scoffed, spinning around as she reached the elevator. She hit the 'down' button with unnecessary force. The elevator pinged, the doors slided open to reveal an empty car. Azaria stepped inside and turned to face him. Theon tried to step in with her, but she held up a hand, her expression like cold iron. "Stay away from me," she hissed. Her voice was low, careful not to draw the full attention of the HR staff lingering nearby, but it was saturated with such sternness that it hit Theon harder than a physical blow. "Do not follow me. Do not 'explain' anything else to me. Just stay away."
The doors slid shut, sealing her away.
Theon stood in the hallway, staring at his own reflection in the brushed steel of the elevator doors. He looked baffled, his mouth slightly agape. His inner wolf was moving in distress, pacing circles in his mind. What happened? he wondered. He had tried to tell her she was perfect where she was, away from the stress.
"I just made her hate me more," he whispered to himself.
The weight of his secret felt like lead in his stomach. How was he supposed to tell her the truth now? How could he explain that he was a werewolf, that he was the Alpha of a powerful pack, and that she was his fated mate? She already thought he was a condescending prick. If he told her they were destined for one another by some cosmic law, she'd probably file a restraining order before he could get to the part about the moon. He had intended to protect her, to keep her in a role where he could watch over her, but instead, he had built a wall between them that felt miles high.
***
Forty minutes later, Azaria was in her apartment, the door locked and bolted. She was pacing her living room, the phone pressed hard against her ear.
"He actually said it, Rowan! To my face!" she shouted, gesturing wildly with her free hand even though he couldn't see her. "He told me I was too 'nurturing' for leadership. He basically said I'm too stupid and soft to handle a real job!"
On the other end of the line, Rowan sighed, though she could hear the underlying anger in his breath. "The nerve of that man. Honestly, Azaria, I knew the corporate culture at that place was stiff, but that sounds like something out of the 1950s. Or a Victorian novel. What bullshit!"
"It was worse than that! He thought he was doing me a favour!" Azaria stopped pacing and slumped onto her sofa, her chest heaving. "He looked so proud of himself while he was tearing my career down. I've put in years at that company and he thinks I'm some glass doll who needs to be shielded from 'ugly' decisions."
"He's an idiot," Rowan said firmly. "He doesn't deserve your talent."
"No he doesn't," Azaria agreed, her eyes catching the glow of her laptop sitting on the coffee table. A dangerous, spiteful thought began to take root in her mind. "You know what? I'm done being what he thinks I am. If he thinks I'm so ill-suited for the top tier, I'm going to show him exactly what this nurturing woman looks like."
"Azaria..." Rowan's voice took on a cautious tone. "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking I should join Rhodes Industries," she said, her voice dropping into a determined whisper. "They're Aldrith's biggest competitors. I'm going to apply there."
There was a long silence on the other end. "Azaria, tread carefully," Rowan warned. "Rhodes Industries... they have a reputation. They aren't just competitors; they're ruthless. People say the leadership there is... different. If you go there just to spite Theon, you might be jumping out of the frying pan and into a very literal fire."
"I'll be cautious, Rowan. I'll be careful, I promise," she said softly, but her frustration was overriding his concern. "But I can't stay there. I can't look at his smug, 'apologetic' face every day knowing he thinks I'm nothing more than a glorified secretary. I need to hit him where it hurts. I'm not going to take everything I know about his operations and hand it to Rhodes on a silver platter, babes. Don't worry."
"Just... watch your back," Rowan said softly. "Promise me."
"I promise. I'll talk to you later."
She hung up the phone and grabbed her laptop, pulling it onto her lap. Her hands were trembling slightly, a mix of lingering rage and cold adrenaline. She opened her browser and pulled up her resume. She spent ten minutes polishing it, highlighting every single "aggressive" and "cutthroat" achievement she had ever made. The very things Theon claimed she lacked.
She navigated to the Rhodes Industries career portal. The website was sleek, black and silver, looking more like a military interface than a corporate one. It felt intimidating. It felt like a warning. She stared at the 'Upload' button. Her heart began to pound against her ribs, a heavy, rhythmic thud that echoed in her ears. She knew this was a bridge-burning move. If she took a job at Rhodes, she would be one of Aldrith's sworn enemies in the business world.
She thought of his face in the hallway, that confused, patronizing look of "support."
Her jaw set. Her finger hovered over the trackpad and with a decisive click, she uploaded the file and hit the final 'Submit Application' button.
The screen flickered, confirming her submission.
It was done.