Charlotte's POV
My pen slipped from my fingers and clattered onto the desk.
I blinked hard, trying to focus on the stack of papers in front of me. The words were blurring together. I'd been reading border guard reports for the past six hours, and my brain felt like mush.
The clock on the wall showed 12:43 AM. Way past midnight.
I should go home. My tiny room was waiting, cold and empty like always. But something kept me here in this cramped basement office, surrounded by filing boxes and the smell of old paper.
Maybe it was because going home meant being alone with my thoughts. And lately, my thoughts were full of Marcus.
I smiled, feeling happiness spread through my chest just thinking about him.
General Marcus Steele. My boyfriend. My secret boyfriend.
Nobody at Crystal Moon Military Base knew about us. Marcus said we had to be careful because of military rules about officers dating lower-ranked troops. I was just a junior analyst; barely anyone even knew my name. He was a decorated General with medals and honors.
But he picked me.
Six months ago, he'd walked into this basement office with coffee and a smile. He'd asked about my work, actually listened to my answers, and made me feel like I mattered. Like, I wasn't just the invisible omega girl everyone overlooked.
We'd been meeting in secret ever since. Late-night talks. Stolen times when no one was watching. He made me feel special, beautiful, important, all the things I'd never felt before.
I touched the small Christmas tree on my desk, making the bright lights blink faster. I'd brought it from home because this room felt so gray and sad without it. The group home where I grew up was always decorated for Christmas. It was the one time of year when everything felt magical.
Tomorrow was New Year's Eve. The Royal Winter Ball.
And I was going.
Marcus had gotten me a ticket, something I never dreamed would happen. I, Charlotte Harris, the orphan omega nobody, am attending the fanciest party in the kingdom. I had a beautiful silver dress hanging in my closet at home. I'd tried it three times already, barely believing it was real.
Tomorrow night, everything would change. Marcus and I would finally be together in public. He'd hold my hand. Dance with me. Show everyone that I wasn't nobody, I was someone he cared about.
My wolf stirred inside me, happy and excited.
I picked up another report, trying to finish at least a few more before going home. Routine border police stuff. Dates, times, places. Boring information that someone had to collect and catalog.
That someone was me.
Most people thought this job was useless. Just paperwork. But I actually liked it. I was good at finding patterns, catching small details that others missed. Sometimes I'd flag something odd and send it up the chain. Usually, nothing came of it, but it made me feel helpful.
I scanned through the pages, noting the normal information: "Section 7, patrol route Delta, 0600 hours, no unusual activity."
Normal. Expected. Boring.
Wait.
I stopped, frowning at the page.
Section 7 again. That was the third report this week, noting unusual movement patterns in Section 7. Not dangerous movements, just odd. Different from the normal patrol trips.
Probably nothing. Animals may be, or weather affects the sensors.
But my analyst brain tingled with interest.
I pulled up older reports on my computer, looking for Section 7 mentions. One from two months ago. Another from three months back. And one from four months ago.
All of them had similar notes about unusual moves. All of them are in Section 7. "Huh," I muttered, making a new note in my log. "Section 7 - possible design. Recommend review."
That was my job. Find the weird stuff, flag it, and let smarter people figure out what it meant.
I saved the note and stretched, my back cracking from sitting too long. My small office felt even more cramped than normal tonight. The file cabinets seemed to press in from all sides. The one tiny window near the top showed only darkness outside.
Most people didn't even know this building existed. I was stuck in the basement of the Intelligence Department, in a place nobody else wanted. Just me, old files, and my blinking Christmas tree.
But I didn't mind. It was quiet. Peaceful. Nobody bothered me here.
I could think about Marcus without interruption. Dream about tomorrow night. Imagine finally being seen as someone important instead of someone unseen.
My phone buzzed.
I grabbed it quickly, hoping it was Marcus. He sometimes texted late at night when he couldn't sleep.
But it was just Jamie, my only real friend at the base. "You still working? Go home, Charlie. You need sleep for tomorrow's big night!"
I smiled. Jamie knew about the ball, though he didn't know all the facts about Marcus and me. He thought I was just excited to attend a fancy party. He didn't know I'd be there with someone special.
I texted back: "Leaving soon. Promise."
But I didn't move. Something about those Section 7 reports nagged at my brain.
Four reports over four months. Same spot. Same type of unusual behavior.
It was probably nothing. Definitely nothing. Just a chance.
Still, I pulled up the files again, comparing them side by side on my computer screen.
The dates were interesting. August 14th. September 12th. October 18th. November 15th.
Roughly one month apart each time.
The moving patterns were listed with coordinates. I wasn't a field soldier, so locations didn't mean much to me usually. But these looked oddly specific. Not random at all.
Almost like someone was marking specific areas on purpose.
My heart started beating a little faster. "You're being suspicious," I whispered to myself. "It's just patrol data."
But what if it wasn't?
What if I'd actually found something important?
I made a more detailed note in my log, listing all four reports and their dates. I marked it for senior review, which meant someone with better clearance would look at it eventually.
Probably, they'd tell me I was overthinking routine knowledge. That happened a lot. But at least I'd done my job.
I was about to shut down my machine when I heard something.
Footsteps.
In the hallway outside my office.
At almost one in the morning.
My hand froze on the mouse. The Intelligence Department was meant to be empty at night except for me. I had special clearance to work late because I was behind on categorizing.
Nobody else should be down here.
The footsteps got closer. Slow. Deliberate. Like someone was checking desks one by one.
My tiny window didn't have shades, and my light was on. Anyone in the hallway could see I was here.
Maybe it was just security doing rounds. That happened sometimes.
But guards usually announced themselves. Called out "Security check!" so people wouldn't be scared.
These footsteps were silent except for the soft sound of boots on concrete.
They stopped right outside my door.
I held my breath, looking at the frosted glass window. A shadow appeared of a person standing just on the other side.
The handle started to turn.
My heart hammered in my chest. Should I call out? Ask who it was?
Before I could decide, my phone buzzed again.
I looked down at the screen.
A text from an unknown number. "Stop looking at Section 7. Delete your notes. Forget what you saw."
My blood turned to ice.
The door opened.