Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 257: Job Hunting

Chapter 257: Job Hunting

Eldur’s POV

Nova was quiet.

Too quiet.

That wasn’t her usual brand of silence either—not the kind where her thoughts brewed behind her eyes like morning coffee, warm and rich and full of unspoken ideas. No. This was the brittle silence. Like glass balancing on a shelf. One wrong word and it would shatter.

I glanced sideways at her as we walked. She clutched her flyer folder like it was a sacred text, her grip just a little too tight, her steps slightly too fast.

Jeremy.

That filthy sack of human-shaped garbage had rattled her. And I didn’t like that one bit.

"Are you okay?" I asked, gently, more gently than I usually manage. I even tilted my head and softened my voice, which was hard because softness wasn’t really in my nature. I was more of a lightning-strike-in-the-middle-of-a-snowstorm kind of guy.

Nova blinked at the sidewalk. "Yeah," she said too quickly. "I’m fine."

She wouldn’t even look at me.

That was the part that hit like a cold dagger in the ribs.

I could smell the lie. It clung to her skin like perfume gone stale. But I didn’t push. Not yet. I wasn’t the gentle, coax-it-out kind of person. Never had been. The one time I tried, a table ended up on fire and someone cried. (I still maintain it wasn’t my fault the table was flammable.)

I had learned that humans—especially Nova—liked to unwrap their wounds slowly. Like a bandage that just had to be removed one inch at a time, even when it bled.

So I didn’t press her. I’d figure it out later. Jeremy wouldn’t get away with making her heart race like that. Not on my watch. But first—

I reached over and plucked the wrinkled flyers from her hand.

"Wha—hey!"

I waved them triumphantly. "You, my sweet mortal companion, are clearly in no shape to lead this noble expedition. So. I, Eldur Daegon—jobless, reckless, questionably fashionable—will take the reins."

Nova frowned. "You have no idea where any of those places are."

I had magic portals. I could open a hole in the sky and drop us into Denmark if I felt like it. I think I could handle navigating a strip mall.

"Sure I do." I replied with a smile.

She stared at me then rolled her eyes. "You’re impossible."

"Incorrect. I’m improbable. Huge difference." I flipped through the flyers like a wizard examining ancient scrolls. "Hmm. What have we here? The Coffee Pit? Absolutely not. Your skin is too soft to be assaulted by espresso steam every day. Next."

Nova laughed quietly. A victory. A small one. But I’d take it.

I grinned, then theatrically examined the next flyer. "Let’s see... ’Hiring Barista.’ Hm. Sounds promising. Let’s begin our quest, young padawan."

"Please never say that again."

I held out my elbow like a pompous lord offering a noble lady a stroll through the gardens. "Come, Nova. Let us chase the alluring scent of minimum wage employment."

She rolled her eyes but linked her arm with mine. "You’re so weird."

"Thank you. I work very hard at it."

*******

The first place we tried was a tiny bakery that smelled like sugar and childhood. I hated it immediately.

The woman behind the counter smiled at Nova. "You’re here for the job? We could use a warm, friendly face!"

Then she looked at me.

I may or may not have magically adjusted the lighting in the room to cast shadows under my eyes and make my teeth look a bit... pointier.

The woman suddenly frowned. "Actually, we just hired someone."

Nova turned to me, disappointed. "You literally saw the ’Help Wanted’ sign in the window."

"Yes," I said. "And now it reads ’Help Wanted Never."

Next, a smoothie place. Too loud. Too fruity. The guy interviewing her had the audacity to wink.

I made the blender explode.

Nova looked at the blender in shock.

"Faulty wiring," I said solemnly, brushing imaginary dust from my coat.

By the time we left the fifth place—an overpriced boutique where the owner told Nova she "didn’t have the right aesthetic"—Nova was ready to strangle someone. Probably me.

"I liked that boutique," she muttered, crossing her arms.

I gave her a wounded look. "Nova, their clothes looked like they were made of recycled curtain fabric. You deserve dignity, not drapery."

"It feels like the universe is sabotaging this."

"The universe is probably protecting your future."

"Yeah right. A mannequin fall on the manager! How’s that protecting my future?"

"Technically, it leaned. Gravity didn’t seem to like him."

She groaned and sat down on a bench, burying her face in her hands. The wind tugged at her hair, strands catching in her fingers.

I stared at her for a long moment, heart tightening in my chest in that maddening way it always did when she looked sad.

"I just..." she said quietly, "I just wanted something simple, you know? A job. Something to help me feel like I have control over at least one part of my life."

I sat beside her.

"What would you want to do?" I asked softly. "If it were up to you. No flyers. No weird boutique ladies. Just... your choice."

She hesitated. Then, with a small, sheepish smile: "I’d love to work in a bookstore."

I blinked.

A bookstore?

She nodded quickly. "I know it sounds boring, but... I don’t know. Books are quiet. Safe. Familiar. It’s like getting paid to breathe in peace."

My heart did another stupid thing.

Goddess help me, I was gone.

"There are a few bookstores near campus," I said.

"Yeah. I’ve checked. None of them are hiring." She slumped. "Especially not Prologue Pages. That place is always packed, and the owner’s this grumpy old man who’s allergic to hiring new staff."

I stood.

"Come on."

She blinked. "Where are we going?"

"Prologue Pages."

"Eldur, I just said—"

"I heard you. He’s not hiring. I know. But I’m not exactly ’just some guy,’ I can charm my way out or into anything."

Her laugh was hollow. "Eldur. Seriously. They’re not hiring."

I turned, offered her a hand. "Come with me."

She looked at it like I’d just offered her a live snake. "It’s pointless."

"I don’t do pointless, Nova. Trust me. Just... come with me."

Reluctantly, she took my hand. And maybe I held it a second too long.

Prologue Pages looked like it had been standing since the Roman Empire. The bell over the door jingled with such ancient judgment I felt it in my teeth. The owner—a thin, ancient man who looked like he once babysat dinosaurs—peeked over his glasses.

"No positions available," he said without even saying hello.

Nova sighed.

I smiled.

"Are you sure?" I asked, voice velvet and honey. My magic slipped into the air like perfume—subtle, intoxicating, impossible to ignore.

The man blinked.

Scratched his head.

"You know," he said slowly, "I was thinking I could use an assistant. Two, actually. Young folks with... energy."

Nova’s head whipped toward me.

"Seriously?" she whispered.

I winked.

"Good. Start tomorrow," the man said, already heading into the backroom. "Seven sharp. Don’t be late. One more thing—"

We leaned in.

"Don’t move the sleeping cat. He’s staff."

Then he disappeared behind a curtain.

We stood there in stunned silence.

Nova’s mouth was hanging open.

"How... what did you...?"

"I’m that good," I said simply.

"Is he an acquaintance of yours?"

"Define acquaintance," I teased.

She swatted my arm, but her smile was radiant now—sunshine after a thunderstorm.

"You are... unbelievable."

"I get that a lot."

She laughed. A real one this time.

And my heart, my cursed monster of a heart, did something ridiculous again.

It hoped.

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