The wolf inside me was snarling, and I was doing my best to keep a straight face.

My good mood evaporated in an instant. Arthur noticed.

"Something's wrong? You just went quiet all of a sudden," he asked with concern, looking at me. "Your eyes..."

"It's nothing, really. It happens," I tried to force a smile, but it barely came out.

"Alright, I'll believe you... For now. It's not even a full moon. You're not going to shift here, are you?" Arthur asked seriously.

"No, of course not!" I answered, then added a quieter, less confident, "...I shouldn't..."

I tried to pull myself together, and it seemed to work. Arthur didn't push to figure out the reason for my mood, and I silently thanked him for that.

"You know, your sister's growing into quite the beauty. Bet she's swamped with suitors," Arthur said, steering the conversation elsewhere.

"Yeah, I think there's one guy she likes. She won't stop talking about him. What do they call it now? A 'crush.' She has a teenage crush. She's a fan of some pop group popular with the youth. Posters all over her room. Classic teenager stuff," I said with a smile, remembering myself at her age. I, too, wanted an otherworldly love, probably like any girl at that time. But I didn't have that unbearable youthful extremism. I never swooned over boys from magazine covers. I didn't even dye my hair. Once I tried highlights, but I didn't like it much, so I stuck with my natural color-at least until gray starts showing. Luckily, I haven't noticed any white hairs yet.

"And you? When are you going to find yourself a girl?" I asked. "Surely there's some beauty on your radar?"

"Well... there is, but I'm still not sure about her. We've met a couple of times," he said flatly.

"Then why am I here and not her?"

"You know... I always have time for you," Arthur replied, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.

I continued talking with Arthur, but I couldn't stop glancing at the table nearby. From my angle, it was practically in plain view, just behind Arthur.

My eyes met Konstantin's. Did he remember me from that brief encounter at the office-or not? Should I greet him-or not? I felt like I should, but I couldn't even manage a nod.

And then... that scarecrow next to him noticed her companion's distraction. She swung her long leg toward Konstantin's lap! She should have been embarrassed-it was, after all, a public place.

My claws extended instinctively, and my gel polish flew off in an unknown direction. In a burst of furious, instinctive rage, I shredded the tablecloth right beside my plate. The wolf inside me growled and bared her teeth-they were touching WHAT'S MINE.

Arthur abruptly grabbed my hand without a word and led me toward the restaurant exit. Once we were outside, I began to regain some composure.

"Have you calmed down?" he asked. "Wait a minute-should I go settle the bill?"

I nodded silently, staring at the pavement. He walked away briefly but returned very quickly.

"Let's take a walk in the park," he suggested, offering me his arm.

I silently agreed. As we reached the neatly maintained park paths, Arthur finally spoke again:

"Don't you want to tell me what that was? I've never seen you like that before, especially in public."

I sighed heavily. What could I possibly say?

"It's... complicated. I don't really understand it myself."

"Start somewhere, even a little bit," he urged.

"I think... I met my mate. He was at the restaurant, and he wasn't... himself. As you can see, my beast didn't like it one bit," I said, turning my gaze away so Arthur wouldn't notice the tears threatening to spill.

"Did you meet him just now, or earlier?"

"A little earlier..." I trailed off, holding back my tears. I didn't want to go into details, but Arthur wasn't letting it go.

"You've only been in the city a couple of days," he reasoned aloud. "So this... is someone from your new job?"

Why won't you let it go! I thought, but I didn't say it out loud. I didn't want to be rude.

"Yes. But the job isn't officially mine yet, and nothing is really clear. And I'm not ready to share details because... there aren't really any yet. Sorry."

Arthur sighed heavily, staring straight ahead, but didn't say anything.

"And I think... our intimate time together, beyond just friendship, needs to stop too. My wolf won't let another man near me now that he is around. She has recognized him, and he's nearby," I said.

"Ah, and here I was thinking we'd have some fun today! I even invited you to the restaurant, spent some money, and you just ruined it!" he exclaimed, annoyed. I stopped in my tracks and looked at him wide-eyed, noticing the barely suppressed smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh, go on!" I exhaled and lightly punched his shoulder with my fist.

"But at least you're smiling now," he said, laughing.

One of the things I really love about Arthur is how easy he is to talk to. He always finds a way to lift your mood. His jokes... on anyone else, they might be annoying, but not with him. There's no malice in his teasing, no hidden intent to hurt, so you simply can't get mad at him. He can spin everything in such a way that it's impossible to stay upset.

"I told you, you should've invited some girl with a little dog! They wouldn't have said no! Then we could have had some fun. Instead, you get to listen to my suffering," I said, smiling.

"No way. Sometimes those girls are so... you'd be better off joining a monastery. But you? That's a different story!" He paused, thinking it over. "Maybe... still yes?" he asked, mischief dancing in his eyes.

"No. And don't even hope for it," I replied, laughing.

"Damn!" he grimaced playfully, feigning frustration. "But worth a try. If anything changes, call me," he said with a smile.

"Got it," I replied.

Word by word, our conversation continued as we casually made our way to the apartment where I was staying. My mood had lifted thanks to Arthur. We stopped at the door, and he turned to face me.

"And now, no more jokes. You know you can always count on me," he said seriously. "If you need support or a friend, I'll always help you, Dana."

I pressed my lips together to keep from crying. He's so good. I hope life treats him well and he finds the one who will bring him happiness.

"I know, Arthur. I know, and I really appreciate it. Thank you."

We hugged, he kissed me on the cheek, and we said goodbye.

Konstantin

I hadn't seen Olivia for two, maybe even three months. What I saw when she got into my car honestly shocked me. In all that time, she had completely transformed herself-and, in my opinion, not for the better.

From a pretty, light-brown-haired girl with naturally-not small, by the way-curves, she had turned into a stereotypical escort. She had always looked more than fine, but apparently that wasn't enough for her.

And what on earth was she thinking when she decided to remake herself like this? Her already full lips had now turned into two inflated mattresses sticking out of her face. Her chest used to be a solid C cup, now it looked more like a full E, ready to burst out of that so-called dress. And the dress itself-don't even get me started. I swear, there's more fabric in my underwear than in what she was wearing. She'd also done something to her face, but I couldn't even figure out what exactly. It was still her... and yet, somehow, not her.

My jaw literally dropped. I stared at her, struggling to think of something to say that wouldn't sound outright offensive. What could possibly have gone wrong in her life for her to commit such an act of sabotage against her own looks?

Sure, I know men who go for this sort of thing. The more curves, the bigger the better-that's their motto. "A sex machine," that's what they call girls like this. But never in a million years did I think Olivia would actually go so far as to turn herself into... this.

I didn't want to be rude right off the bat, so I drove her to a restaurant - a place where we could talk calmly and put an end to our meetings. I wasn't going to fuck a freakshow exhibit. Simply couldn't. I have standards when it comes to women, and Olivia had just spectacularly fallen off my list of lovers.

We sat at the reserved table, ordered, and Olivia began to chatter away about something. I wasn't interested at all; I didn't listen. The whole situation irritated me. Would she ever shut up?

I lazily scanned the dining room and spotted a familiar face. Dana. Was she really here, or was I imagining things?

No - she was real, sitting not far from our table with some guy. The more I looked at her, the more beautiful she seemed. Neat, elegant, nothing excessive - everything in its place.

I would have gladly switched spots with the man she'd come with. Suddenly I noticed she was looking at me, and that look seemed to go right through me. I felt ashamed in front of her because of Olivia.

To be honest, I'd have been embarrassed about Olivia in front of pretty much anyone I knew. I shouldn't have dragged her to the restaurant - I should've ended things on the spot and not exposed myself like that in public.

Lost in thought, I suddenly realized someone had started massaging my balls.

Olivia was smiling slyly, biting her lip. Oh, no.

"Stop, please - we're in public," I warned. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Dana's companion grab her hand and they quickly left the restaurant. Were they that worked up? Did passion boil over so fast they ran off to be alone? Frankly, I didn't care - apparently that was her man. I felt myself getting angrier. Probably because someone was about to have wild sex tonight - and it wasn't going to be with me.

"Before, you didn't care," Olivia said, smiling seductively.

"Well, now I do. Just so you know, this is our last meeting."

"Our last?" Her expression changed. "You don't want to see my upgrade? I worked on this for you, by the way!" she protested, gesturing at her curves.

"You didn't do it for me. The previous version was fine. Let's end our fling on a good note and not ruin each other's mood. Order whatever you want here - I'll pay. But I have to go. Have a good evening." I stood up from the table and headed for the exit. This circus was exhausting; I don't like long "goodbyes," she'd just start whining.

"I'll be waiting for your call," Olivia huffed after me. I just rolled my eyes.

********

Dana

Finally, the day had come for my internship. I was even more nervous than before the interview. I had to show myself at my absolute best - after all, he would be there. My palms were sweating, a hurricane of emotions swirling inside me.

Today I chose a pencil skirt below the knee, a high-neck white blouse, and comfortable pumps with a modest heel. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail and applied light daytime makeup. That's it. I'm ready. One last glance in the mirror to check for flaws - none. I exhaled deeply, grabbed my purse, and left the apartment.

"Good morning, Margarita," I greeted the woman at work.

"Good morning, Dana!" she replied, scanning me with a somewhat scrutinizing look. What? What?! What's wrong?! Maybe there's a stain on my blouse or the skirt is unzipped. Then, realizing I noticed her inspection, she added, "It's commendable that you adhere to the dress code."

Oh! Phew! I nearly panicked for nothing. I exhaled in relief.

"Here's your workstation," the secretary said, pointing to a desk with a laptop in the corner of the room. It hadn't been there last time; I hadn't even noticed it at first. "You'll be working next to me, under my supervision here. We could have given you your own office a floor below, but it's more convenient for me to give instructions directly rather than waiting for you to pick up the phone and run to the reception."

Next, she briefed me on the workflow and work-related matters. A pleasant surprise was that they had their own café in the office, and meals for employees were completely free. Well, why was I surprised? A large, successful company could easily afford that and more.

I sat at my desk, hoping it would become my permanent workspace, when the director walked into the reception. His expression was darker than a thundercloud. Who had managed to piss him off this morning?

It was as if all the air had been sucked out again. I wondered-would I always react to him like this?

"Good morning, Konstantin!" Margarita greeted.

"Uh-huh, good morning," he replied, then his gaze fell on me and he added, "...lady."

"Good morning," I said softly, feeling obvious embarrassment and a twinge of jealousy. After all, yesterday he had been with some other girl. That stirred the cat-scratchy feeling in my chest. But strangely enough, I didn't detect any foreign scent on him.

"Margarita, could you come to my office? We need to talk," he said.

"Of course. Dana, be so kind as to make us two espressos and cover for me. Answer the phone calls, write everything down, or say we'll call back," Margarita instructed, then walked into the boss's office.

Well, the workday had officially begun. Time to get to it. My first task was to make coffee. Luckily, I didn't have to go far - there was a small adjoining room with a coffee machine and everything needed to serve guests and clients of the director.

Just coffee? Margarita hadn't specified anything else. I placed the coffees on a small tray with a couple of sugar sticks. But there were also cookies and candies.

Did they like sweets or not? Well, I personally do. Oh well, I added a small bowl of candies and cookies, just in case.

I entered the office and arranged everything on the desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Konstantin watching me, and a smile flashed across Margarita's face.

For some reason, I felt the need to justify myself.

"I just didn't know if you like sweets... so... here..."

For a few seconds, Konstantin looked at me with his green eyes. Wow, they're so beautiful! You could drown in them and never come up! Then I heard:

"I do. I love sweets."

Oh, and that voice! Was he really talking about cookies right now? Waves of tiny shivers ran through my whole body, and my legs refused to obey for a split second. I shook off the sudden spell and glanced at Margarita. She looked extremely thoughtful.

Feeling slightly awkward, I forced a small smile and tried to leave the office quickly.

I realized it was going to be harder than I had expected.

Konstantin

"Yesterday our clients from above reached out to me and offered to attend a closed seminar-exhibition on biomechanics. Some allied states are even willing to exchange technologies. It will be very interesting and beneficial for us."

"When and where?" Margarita asked, suddenly energized.

"In about a month. They said the exact date, as well as the location, will be announced literally a day before the event begins. You understand, it's confidential because of the risks. But they hinted that we'll need to take a charter flight for several hours."

"I see."

At that moment, Dana quietly entered the office, carrying a tray in her hands. And again, I'm staring at her like a fool seeing a new gate. The girl carefully places the coffee on the table, bringing along plenty of other sweets. Her cheeks are flushed-she's clearly embarrassed. That amuses me... and arouses me.

I'll admit it: her appearance stirs up my already restless libido. Everything is by the dress code, even too much so. The skirt hugs her slender hips, the blouse hides and yet somehow emphasizes her breasts. I wouldn't mind taking a longer look.

When she set the coffee down beside me, I caught her damn intoxicating scent. Like some exotic flower. It's so pleasant I just want to breathe it in again and again. For such a specimen, I might even break my own rule about not having affairs with employees.

And that ponytail. I'd love to wind it around my fist. I wonder how she sounds when she moans?

Wait, stop!

There I go again. She distracts me way too much! She's standing there, chattering something about the sweets. She herself is sweeter than candy. As if I didn't already have work piled sky-high-now I've got a hard-on to deal with on top of it. Damn it!

Maybe she's one of those women who spray themselves with pheromone perfumes to attract men?

Dana quickly leaves, and that's probably for the best. I notice that Margo is lost deep in her own thoughts.

*******

Dana

Today is the second day of my internship coming to an end, and soon I'll hear the employer's verdict. My work isn't difficult, but it's definitely necessary for the company. Simple, routine tasks-calling clients, handling small errands, that sort of thing. And to my surprise, I actually enjoy it. The pay is good, too.

I honestly don't understand how Margarita managed all this by herself before. There's so much little detail work, and yet it's impossible to run the firm without it. I can't help but admire her-though maybe the reason she looks so good is exactly because she's always on the move. The thought makes me smile.

Konstantin is always in the office. A constant flow of people comes to him-employees with their projects, respected clients, business partners.

And then, with just an hour left before the end of the workday, Victoria walks into the reception area. A tight dress, shorter than the knee, with an impressive, wide-open neckline. At least she had the sense to throw a blazer on top. And of course, she wouldn't be herself without high heels. Yes, her legs do go on forever.

Inside me, the she-wolf growls, sensing such blatant competition.

The girl greets Margarita politely, while I am granted nothing more than a nod and a condescending smile. I mentally roll my eyes at that. Her face practically screams "bitch."

Well, I don't have to live with her, and I sincerely hope I'll never see her again anyway.

Margarita motions me over. I step closer, holding my breath, nerves twisting inside me. Honestly, this position didn't matter that much to me before I met the boss. But now... now I desperately want to stay. And it's very clear why. My heart feels like it's about to jump right out of my chest. This is the moment-the verdict. Who will stay as the firm's assistant?

"Well, ladies," she begins, her tone even and professional. "I've worked with both of you for two days, I've seen you in action, and I've chosen the person who suits me best for the position of my assistant."

Her eyes sweep over us before she continues:

"Dana, I'll expect you here Monday at nine. Victoria, I'm afraid I'll have to say goodbye to you."

Victoria's face changes instantly, her smile twisting into something like a snarl.

"And why exactly am I not suitable? What is it that didn't satisfy you?"

Margarita arches her brows at such audacity, her gaze sharpening on Victoria.

"You're not attentive. Instead of keeping your eyes glued to our director, you should have paid more attention to what I asked of you. I was looking for an assistant for myself, not for our boss. I need someone fully focused on work, not on finding a potential romantic partner. If you'd like, I can speak with the manager of our cafeteria-maybe they need staff. Their requirements are much simpler. But here, we're done."

Her words land like a gavel striking.

Oh, if looks could kill, both of us would already be dead. Growling under her breath, Victoria says nothing, lifts her chin as high as possible, and storms out of the office-slamming the door so loudly the walls shake.

Margarita exhaled tiredly and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Dana, come in on Monday as usual and bring the originals of your documents with you. We'll finalize your employment contract. You're free to go for today."

After saying goodbye to her, I head home. My mood is soaring, practically up in the clouds.

The weekend flew by in one breath. I happily shared the news with my family and friends: I got the job, and I'm staying in the city.

Eli was especially thrilled, since she'd long wanted to pull me out of that "backwater," as she always called it. She also kindly offered to let me live in her apartment for as long as I needed. When I tried to argue, she waved me off and said my only "rent" would be spending more evenings with her.

Everything seems so good, almost perfect. And yet, especially in the evenings, the wolf in me grows restless. I miss his scent so desperately it feels like I could howl at the moon.

Speaking of the moon.

In two weeks, there'll be a full moon. Luckily, this time it falls on the weekend, so I'll have to figure something out. My wolf won't accept another man in a physical sense. That's another gift-and curse-of being a werewolf. Once you find your mate, you can't look at anyone else romantically ever again.

With a heavy sigh, I wipe away the single tear that escaped and snuggle deeper into my bed. Tomorrow begins a new work week.

The phrase "I can't wait for Monday so I can go back to work" is now completely about me. Because there... HE will be there.

In the morning, I get ready for work already as a full-fledged, official employee. How good that sounds!

A pantsuit, a light blouse with a decent neckline, light makeup, hair pulled back into a ponytail. Many werewolves, after their beast has manifested, stop using perfume. And I was no exception. The smell is too sharp for our noses. No matter how pleasant it might be, by the end of the day it makes your head split and your stomach turn. That's why, after my "Day X," my whole perfume arsenal went straight to my sister Mia. For me, soap or shower gel is more than enough-at most, deodorant.

I step into the reception office and immediately catch that scent that makes my head spin-I can't get enough of it. The boss is already in, must have come earlier, and only recently stood here. Margarita is also at her desk; we greet each other and get to work.

Closer to lunchtime, a few rather plump men with briefcases enter. They introduce themselves as lawyers and head into the director's office. Meanwhile, Margarita turns to me with the next set of tasks:

"Dana, take these documents over to accounting. After that, you can go on your lunch break. And after lunch, stop by HR to sign all the necessary hiring papers."

I take the documents and set off on my mission. With some help from other employees, I find the accounting department.

Walking into the office, I see several heavyset ladies and one man. At the center of the room sits a woman with a massive teased-up hairstyle, furiously punching numbers into a calculator. Strange-I thought no one in such a prestigious firm used those anymore. There are computers, software, all kinds of programs. But whatever.

The nameplate on her desk reads: Larisa Georgievna Kartyl, Chief Accountant.

I greet her, introduce myself, and hand over the documents. She gives me a sharp, scrutinizing look from eyes heavily lined Cleopatra-style, snatches the papers, and without saying a word continues tapping away at the calculator.

I step out of the office and let out a sigh of relief. What a personality! Her aura is almost suffocating. A true queen. Smiling to myself, I head toward the cafeteria.