Chapter Seven

Cassius POV

I'd thought burying myself in familiar tasks like corresponding with California pack allies or touching base with operatives in Milan would be a welcome respite. But each manila folder I cracked, every coded transcript I skimmed, only snarled me deeper into that mental spiral.

Because there, lurking beneath the daily grind of managing my far-reaching empire, was the drumbeat of my fixation on the human hidden away just corridors from where I currently paced. Her vibrant and maddening presence, never more than a few firing synapses out of reach.

This internal war couldn't be allowed to fester any longer. I'd confronted worse demons countless times before - took them by the horns and exerted my dominance until they bent to my indomitable will. Talia Fisher would prove no exception, no matter how seductive a siren she appeared on the surface.

Perhaps that was the key, I mused while cinching my obsidian tie more snugly. Treat this situation like any other delicate business proposition, rather than some mystical cosmic consequence. See the lay of the land through neutral observation and hard facts, rather than letting my inner wolves dictate the narrative.

Yes, a fresh set of eyes and perspective was required to fully grasp the outline of this "Talia Fisher" problem...

When the soft rap at the entrance sounded, I took a steadying inhale before admitting Loras with a brief nod. Just as unflappable as ever, he plucked a fat dossier from under his arm and extended it out in silence.

I eyed the unassuming manila file warily, as if it may burst into flames at any moment. But maintaining my inscrutable mask, I accepted the offering and cracked open the cover.

An ID photo of a young woman with lustrous dark hair and captivating azure eyes gazed back at me. I dragged my thumb slowly along the sharp line of her jaw, unable to deny how the glossy image seemed to entrance as much as the real flesh-and-blood woman did. This was Talia Fisher in her most stripped, unguarded state.

My eyes devoured the concise personal details listed beneath - age 22, no formal address on record, occupation listed only as "self-employed." So she truly was a young woman of the streets, unbound by the luxuries of wealth or status, forced to fend for herself through cunning and resilient spirit alone.

One by one, I quickly absorbed the pockets of her history that Loras' thorough investigation had uncovered. A mostly empty trail of homeless shelters, bussing jobs, and frequent moves with her ailing younger sister Ruby as her sole tether to humanity. No other family listed, at least none on record.

Frown lines creased my brow as I reached her criminal record - vandalism, petty theft, a single assault charge from a couple of years ago that was inevitably pled down. Scrapes and scars from a hard-luck upbringing lived on the harsh streets of Brooklyn's underbelly. How a woman like that, so rough around the edges and untamed, could be declared my cosmic match was utterly perplexing.

And yet, flipping further into her dossier, I found myself strangely...intrigued. More so than I cared to admit. Because amidst the mugshots and wrap-sheets was a smattering of school records that hinted at a different side of Miss Fisher.

A brilliant mind trapped by circumstance, if her markers of academic excellence at Millford Prep were any indication. Not just a scrappy survivor, but one well-versed in the finer points of literature, history, and anthropological studies before being forced to drop out. One who'd hungered for so much more if the socioeconomic pitfalls of her environment hadn't stunted her potential.

My fingertips smoothed over the faded ink, silently marveling at how I'd misjudged the fullness of this woman's character. If what I read was accurate, then the supposed filthy street vermin sharing air with me possessed more applied knowledge and thirst for betterment than most aristocrats in emerald circles.

A soft cough shook me from my reverie as Loras shifted in the periphery. "I suspected you'd want more context on her background, Alpha. To better understand the woman beneath the, ah, brasher exterior."

"You suspected correctly," I murmured, still absorbed in the file's pages.

I offered no further explanation or insight into my thought process. Loras was long accustomed to my reticent ways, unbothered by long stretches of silence as he waited like an obedient sailor for new bearings to chart our course.

Slowly, I closed the dossier and set it atop the desk, fingertips grazing the embossed lettering of Talia Fisher's name. Whoever she truly was, whatever immense potential this fiery woman contained, it was clear I'd sorely underestimated the layers of mystery surrounding this...this mate of mine.

Drawing myself upright, I laced my hands behind my ramrod straight back and pivoted towards Loras. When I spoke, my tone brooked no argument.

"Change of plans. Have a room prepared for Miss Fisher in the south wing residential corridor. And alert the kitchen staff – she'll be joining me for dinner tonight."

Loras' craggy features remained stoic as ever while he processed my decree. For a fleeting moment, I imagined I caught the faintest spark of amusement flickering in his storm cloud eyes before he tamped it down.

"At once, Alpha. Will there be anything else?"

"Just be certain her quarters are comfortable and decently appointed," I stated, already anticipating the dozen other tasks this change would require. "I plan to extend every hospitality to our... guest for the time being."

My beta gave a succinct nod of understanding, already turning on his heel to carry out the instructions. Only once his footfalls faded into silence did I allow the muscle-knotted tension bundling my shoulders to unfurl slightly.

Drawing the back of my hand across my brow, I was only mildly surprised to find a glistening sheen of sweat there. Just the thought of what I'd set into motion - bringing this tempest directly into my innermost sanctuary - sawed through my composure in a way few things could anymore.

Tonight would be the true test, an intimate crucible to see whether I had the fortitude to confront this bizarre situation head on. To face Talia Fisher across a table and move past the chaos and preconceptions that had poisoned my mind thus far.

Would I finally be able to?