Chapter 3

The dance floor lights blazed blindingly bright, illuminating Leah's ashen face with nowhere to hide.

"A bet?"

Leah stood frozen, the music around her seeming to drain away in an instant, leaving only Cecily's sharp and cruel laughter echoing in her world.

She looked at Blake in disbelief, her fingers digging into the edge of her clutch, her nails nearly cutting into her palm.

She desperately wished this was nothing more than a cruel joke.

She desperately wished Blake would frown slightly and rebuke these people in that deep voice of his, just like he had three years ago.

"Blake…"

Leah's voice shook beyond recognition, her eyes brimming with tears that stubbornly refused to fall.

"What she said… what does it mean?"

Blake looked down at her from above.

Those deep eyes held not a trace of warmth, none of the gentleness from three years ago.

He casually straightened his suit cuffs, his tone as calm as if he were discussing the weather.

"Exactly what it sounds like. Cecily didn't think I could make an Omega fall for me within an hour. I was simply proving to her how easy it is."

A thunderous crash.

The last thread holding Leah's mind together snapped completely.

So that phone call hadn't been because he remembered her.

So tonight's invitation, the closeness on the dance floor, the whispered words in her ear—all of it had been an act to win a bet.

That "yes" on the phone had been nothing but a convenient lie.

The surrounding upperclassmen erupted into unrestrained laughter.

"Look at her face, like her whole world just collapsed."

"Did she really think Blake would go for a useless Omega who can't even manage a basic shift? She should take a good look in the mirror."

"She took the bait the moment he crooked his finger. Omegas really are pathetic."

The mockery came like venom-tipped knives, slicing away at Leah's dignity one cut at a time.

She went cold all over, her very breath tasting of blood.

Cecily stepped forward, her high heels striking the floor with arrogant precision.

She looked Leah up and down, taking in her faded pale blue dress, her eyes filled with contempt.

"Don't look at Blake like some wronged abandoned wife. You like him, don't you? Getting to dance one dance with him—that alone should make your entire life feel worthwhile."

Cecily let out a light laugh, a malicious glint flashing in her eyes.

She raised her chin slightly, nudging her toe forward.

"But seeing how pitiful you are, I suppose I could give you a chance. Kneel down right now and kiss the toe of my shoe, and I'll consider letting Blake dance with you again. How about it? Quite a bargain, isn't it?"

The laughter around her swelled.

Everyone was waiting to watch this Omega get humiliated.

Leah bit her lip until it split, the taste of blood spreading through her mouth.

Her knees trembled slightly, her gaze fixed on Blake—the Alpha she had loved for three years, the faith that had carried her through countless dark nights.

If he said just one word, even just enough to stop Cecily's humiliation, she could forgive his deception tonight.

But Blake merely frowned faintly.

He didn't look at Leah.

He turned to Cecily, his tone carrying a hint of impatient indifference:

"Drop it, Cecily."

A faint spark of hope flickered back to life in Leah's dimmed eyes.

But the next second, Blake's cold voice sent her crashing straight into hell:

"Don't make her kneel. She'll only dirty your shoes."

She'll only dirty your shoes.

Five words, light as a feather, yet more devastating than any vicious curse.

Leah's heart shattered in that moment, her three years of love ground to dust.

She couldn't endure the suffocating air another second.

She spun around and, like a startled fawn, shoved through the crowd and sprinted toward the ballroom doors.

"Oh, she's running!"

"How boring. Thought we'd get a good show."

The mocking voices were cut off by the heavy carved wooden doors.

Night air hit her face, carrying the chill of early autumn, instantly cutting through Leah's thin dress.

She didn't know how long she ran.

One of her high heels came off in the chaos, and the bare sole of her foot was cut by gravel, blood seeping through, but she felt no pain.

She stumbled up the path toward the back hill of the academy, until there were no lights in sight, no human sounds to be heard.

Then her legs gave out, and she collapsed heavily onto the muddy ground thick with wild grass.

"Liars… all liars!"

Leah curled into a ball, pressing her hands tightly over her face.

The tears she had held back all night finally broke free.

She sobbed into the silence of the back hill—crying over her own stupidity, her own delusions, crying for the girl who had endured so much cruelty at the Winter house and still refused to let go of hope.

With trembling hands she opened her clutch and pulled out the wrinkled pale blue letter.

The moonlight petal tucked inside had withered and crumbled, just like her heart in this moment—broken beyond repair.

Leah tore the letter to pieces as tears streamed down her face.

"I don't need it anymore… I'll never need it again…"

She threw the scraps into the air.

White fragments drifted down like a bleak snowfall, scattering across the dirt.

Then, a low and ragged rasping sound broke the dead silence of the back hill without warning.

Leah's sobs cut off instantly.

She stiffened and looked up.

Her Omega senses, sharp by nature, picked up the thick scent of blood in an instant, along with an extremely dangerous, frenzied pressure bearing down on her.

That wasn't an Alpha's mating pheromones.

It was something more primal, more savage.

She should have run.

But the raw pain woven into that rasping breath made her stop against every rational instinct.

Leah followed the scent of blood, carefully pushing through a thorn bush taller than herself.

In the pale moonlight, she sucked in a sharp breath.

Behind the thorns, sunken into a hollow in the ground, lay a massive figure.

A werewolf of terrifying size.

His body was covered in coarse silver-gray fur, now soaked through with large dark patches of blood.

A deep gash ran across his abdomen, bone-deep, flesh torn open, blood steadily welling up with each weak breath he drew.

He lay unconscious, his massive clawed hands hanging limp at his sides.

Even on the edge of death, that body radiated a fearsome, beastly aura that made her blood run cold.

Leah scrambled backward in terror and fell to the ground.

A werewolf?

How could there be a werewolf on St. Helena's back hill?

They were the most dangerous, most uncontrollable race on the entire continent.

"Run… I have to run…"

Her mind was screaming.

But when her gaze fell on that fatal wound again, her feet refused to move.

The deep compassion and healing instinct that lived inside every Omega stirred within her.

She could feel it clearly—this life was slipping away fast.