Thanks to her ’son-in-law’, a title Asher had stubbornly reminded her of for days, the yoke was finally being broken. She was here in District Seven. Not just for a visit, not just for a job, but permanently.
The United Dorminia was divided into twelve human districts, numbered in order of status, wealth, and power. At the top was Aster City, the capital, where the Human President governed.
Outside of the human territories, beyond the districts, the four major werewolf packs, the North, South, East, and West, operated under the rule of the Alpha King.
For years, the Alpha King and the Human President maintained a tenuous peace, an agreement holding together the balance of power. Wolves had their lands and the humans had theirs. Although both sides cohabitated, everyone knew the structure wasn’t built on trust, but necessity.
Thinking about it now, at the bottom of the hierarchy was District One, the Slums, the poorest, most dangerous place in Dorminia. The government had practically abandoned it, leaving crime, and gangs to govern instead.
Just above it was District Two, The Forgotten, and District Three, The Undercroft. Though slightly better than the Slums, they were still plagued by high unemployment, corrupt local officials, and struggling families who had little hope of ever rising beyond their station. Children here were often put to work early, schools were underfunded, and progress was slow, if it ever came at all.
District Four, The Strugglers, and District Five, The Reconstruction Zone, were still on the lower end of the spectrum, but life there was a bit more stable. Jobs existed, though they were hard to come by. Education was moderate, and crime was less rampant than in the lower districts. People fought for better lives even if the opportunity was scarce.
District Six The Reformers, and District Seven, The Mercantile, where Asher was taking her, were the true middle-class territories. Infrastructure was decent, schools were better, and businesses flourished. District Seven was the trading hub, filled with markets, ports, and small enterprises. It was the district for the ambitious ones hoping to climb their way into the elite.
And then, there were the privileged districts. District Eight, The Gatekeepers, and District Nine, The Bluebloods, were upper-middle class, home to successful merchants, scholars, and those with valuable government connections. Technology and education thrived there. People from these districts often had direct ties to Aster City, making them more likely to secure powerful positions.
At the highest end were District Ten, The Aristocrats, and District Eleven, Aster’s Pride. These were the homes of old-money families, the kind whose wealth had survived the war. Influential politicians, corporate moguls, and high-ranking officials lived here, behind high-security walls separating them from the rest of the population.
And at the very top was District Twelve, The Chosen Royals. This was where the elite of the elite lived, the wealthiest and most powerful families in Dorminia. They groomed their children for leadership in Aster City, preparing them for high-level roles in government, business, and diplomacy. The cost of living was astronomical, the standard of luxury unreachable for anyone beneath them.
The higher the district, the harder it was to enter, and the harder it was to leave. There were strict border controls — at least on the upper class districts — regulations ensuring that people from the lower districts couldn’t just walk into the lives of the privileged. The wealthy weren’t interested in dealing with crime, poverty, or the desperate masses.
And so, moving up the ladder required either power or influence. Nancy had neither. But Asher did. That was how he had gotten her passage into District Seven, the easiest and secure place he could set her up quickly. It wasn’t at the top, but it was far from the underground she had lived in her whole life.
Although Nancy wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved or terrified of the change, one thing was certain, her life would never be the same again.
Right now, they were in some restaurant in District Seven, the scent of grilled meats, freshly baked bread, and expensive spices in the air. Nancy leaned back in her seat, feeling the satisfaction of a full stomach for the first time in what felt like forever.
This was nothing like the scraps she had fought for back in District One. The food here was rich, decadent, and seasoned just right, leaving an unfamiliar sense of contentment in her belly. She could almost close her eyes and drift away in the comfort of it.
Almost. But her nerves wouldn’t let her.
Nancy’s fingers tapped lightly against the table as she stole glances at the entrance, her anxiety mounting. When was Ezra, the supposed wolf who Asher claimed would watch over her and keep her safe, arrive?
Nancy wasn’t used to relying on others. Especially not men. Men were trouble. Men wanted things.
But Asher had insisted that Ezra was one of his own, someone he trusted to keep her safe in District Seven. That she didn’t have to worry.
Nancy exhaled slowly, She wasn’t worried. She just wasn’t sure what to expect.
After all, she had dealt with werewolves before in her trade. She had serviced them, talked to them, seen the power they carried like a second skin. But this was different. She wasn’t meeting Ezra for her kind of business. This was something else entirely. Her new life.
And that made her stomach churn.
Just then, Asher straightened in his seat, his sharp gaze moving to the entrance.
"He’s here," he said simply.
Nancy turned her head, following his gaze and froze.
Oh. Fuck.
The man walking toward them was sinfully gorgeous. Tall. Broad. Unfairly handsome. Dark, tousled hair, sharp-cut features that looked like they belonged to a damn god, and a presence so commanding it sucked the air out of the room.
Nancy licked her lips, her body reacting on instinct. Just her type.
No. No. No. This was a new start. Nancy had sworn off men. She was going to start fresh. Open a business here and build a life free from her past.
Hence, she was about to look away—force herself to stop staring—but then Ezra’s eyes met hers and everything stopped.
Ezras steps halted mid-stride. His nostrils flared, pupils dilating, chest rising in a sharp inhale as if he had just caught the most intoxicating scent in the world.
Then, his lips parted, and in a deep, guttural growl, he rumbled the word. "Mate."
Nancy blinked. Before she could even begin to process what he had just said, Ezra moved. One second, he was across the restaurant and the next, he was in front of her, pulling her up from her seat.
Nancy squeaked in surprise as her chair scraped back, her body colliding against a wall of pure muscle. Then, before she could utter a single word, his mouth crashed against hers.
Nancy’s entire body went rigid as Ezra’s lips molded over hers, his kiss searing, and possessive. The world tilted as his hand gripped her waist, pulling her impossibly close, his body burning hot against hers. Nancy didn’t move. Couldn’t move. Her brain already short-circuited, the moment too overwhelming, and too sudden for her.
Across the table, Asher stood rooted to the spot, equally stunned.
"... Oh, fuck," he muttered, rubbing a hand down his face.
What the hell was he going to tell Violet?