Daugther of the Moon

"Why? Do you hate him so much?" She pleaded, Anna's forehead furrowed. The sun peaks on the horizon, golden petals stretching ever outwards into the rich blue. It was the brilliant flower of the sky that warmed this frigid land. It was the invitation to a new day that was so typical. However, Anna's eyes embraced the sunrise; that iris of fire was so exquisite, it was a mascara of pristine light.

"Oh, such a sweetheart. Do you think I hate him just because my father chose him to be the last Golden Alpha? You are mistaken, little one. " The man retorted as his mouth set in a hard line. "...No, Anna. He took everything from me." The man's eyes burned with resentment. He strode after hearing her brief answer. His eyes slowly opened and he looked at her. Anna's light green pupils were turning opaque green, and she couldn't help but feel a slight shiver run through her skin as she saw his eyes turn bright, deadly red. His eyes flickered with regret and pain, but it was gone in a second.

His nostrils flared as he told her how much he hated him.

"Do you know why I waited for this moment, little one?" The man added in such a masculine voice that in other circumstances she would have admired, but she was more frightened now. There was something strange about him, and it was making her feel anxious about being this close to someone she didn't know, especially with his dark wolf shadows looming everywhere.

"Why?" Panic rose in Anna's heart as she threw those questions out. She wanted an answer, but she was beyond nervous, her lips trembling.

Then, unexpectedly, void of emptiness.

In silence, Anna bolted upward. Her thoughts were unstable and perplexed, as her mind acknowledged that she was inside the cab. 'She had that dreadful dream again? How cliché and scary at the same time.' She recklessly stepped out of the cab and breathed in a heartful of air.

Some stupid tourists say the British love of flowers was on enthusiastic collection throughout London in its charming flower marts and shops with their cheerful spectacles, which spilled out onto the pavements and street junctions. Rainbow colors of wonderful cut flowers in pails, garlands, and bouquets bandaged in colorful ribbons and model house plants entice passersby to stop for a closer look, and, of course, a painting, portrait, or series of London's tourist spots photographed.

Anna couldn't think of a time when any of it had paid off if she stopped and enjoyed the festivities. She needed a coping mechanism for her worries, and she needed to work more than anything else. At least she knew that much. By the time she was in the cab, she "knew" how she was going to deal with the boss; and by the time she got off the cab, the rain was obscuring her glasses and was drizzling on her face. There was absolutely no point in trying to pretend an umbrella would do her any good. Her cream long-sleeve turtleneck, with faux fur accents, and a pair of midi sweater dresses covered with a long coat, were almost as wet as her old winter knee-high boots.

Her name is Anna Brown. She had long blond hair with a tint of green lime in the tip, odd really, but her hair was all-natural in a way that was way weirder than the fake one her mom used when she was still a mere child, and it added to her eyes, so green that they glowed like gems. That's her mom's belief, though, enough to give her confidence when she needed it the most.

Anna was sentimental and vulnerable. When hurt, she withdraws into a cloud of silence, dull and empty, but eventually emerges from her shyness with tricks and giggles that cover up her true feelings. She can become moody and gloomy when depressed. If ever there was a single moment of total change that gave meaning to her life, it was the moment of her birth. At that moment, she stepped through a door in time into a new reality—the reality of human life. Yes! That was her mom's idea of giving her morale, especially when she desired it. Strange, right? But she loves her nonetheless.

This early morning, the sky had an extraordinary dash of light and was a little darker than usual, cast onto the otherwise pale grey cloud. The day promised to be like every day, but now it was a different story. It was raining, reasonably cold, and chilling, but, oh boy! She was wrong; it seems like the morning has yet to begin.

Stepping out of the cab, she walked a few yards into her building. She works as a receptionist on the executive floor at the DRI Dream Research Institute.

The DRI was part of the Centre for Counselling and Psychotherapy Education Trust (CCPE), located in Central London. The DRI explores the relationship between dreams and wellbeing from a spiritual perspective, offering public events and a unique archive, as well as teaching videos and educational courses. It was founded in 2014 by the hottest and eligible bachelor in London, a millionaire, and his CEO, Harry Camilton.

Anna rushed into her office building, avoiding the blistering London winter chill. When she stepped out of the elevator on the 5th floor, she placed her things on her desk, reached for the little organizer in one hand, adjusted her coat with her free hand, drew a deep breath, and opened the cabin door of her boss's secretary.

She hated Ashley. She had the figure and the looks to turn women half her age jealous. Her skin was as pale as China, but she was bossy as hell, and she talked like a parrot and flirted with every human being on the planet who wore trousers. Thank the gods, she was on vacation and would be back next week, but Anna was working two jobs at the same time, as a receptionist and a secretary. Not that she was complaining; the pay was fair, so she obliged herself to every possible mood change by her boss.

Anna peeled off her coat and gloves and was about to take a seat opposite Ashley's table when she heard her boss barking her name.

'Oh, bloody hell, how the hell does he know she was here already?' Sighing, Anna reached his office.

"Good morning, Mr. Faiz," she mumbled.

Anna's boss was a compact, clear-cut man with precise features, a lot of soft raven hair, and thoughtful dark brown eyes. He was half British, half Pakistani, with that combination. He had a look of wariness, which could change when he felt relaxed or pleased, which was rare in these impossible days.

"Anna, I need you to check with Clinton if he is ready for the board. The CEO is coming today. I need you to make sure that he knows what the board has to understand. " Mr. Faiz asserted without a pause, took his coffee and sipped it, then added. The volume and elements of an extensive security procedure of the Dreamers Device need to lighten up enough so the board can allocate sufficient resources. Do I understand? Write it down so you won't have any issues later."

"Yes, sir." Anna scratched the back of her head. I knew full well what he meant. She knew very well that she was a pathetic secretary yesterday when she ended up forgetting something important from the director's meeting because she forgot her notes. Though she promised to never leave her notes ever again, how could she possibly forget that humiliating meeting?

"And tell him that Mr. Camilton is coming and I believe he knows what to do, and I need the report on my desk before the end of the day, okay?" Mr. Faiz added.

"Yes, sir."

"So help me, God, if you mess this up! We will all be jobless. Am I understood?"

Never mind that she had come here a little earlier than normal just to prepare the boardroom. Mr. Faiz took his coffee and gulped down half the contents before he continued with his laptop.

"Noted Sir," Anna sighed as she slowly walked, whining as the frosty morning air still made her shiver when the glass windows of Mr. Faiz were opened halfway.

"And I need another coffee, Miss Brown." He added and checked his platinum watch before returning to his laptop.

"Yes, sir."

"And by the way, you will have to reprint page three before we start the meeting in forty minutes, and make sure to let everyone know that Mr. Camilton is joining us later."

"Yes Sir," Anna strode out and made it to the typing team for help.