Chapter 4

Estelle's POV

I sat on the cold bathroom tiles, my hands still trembling.

The patch of skin at the back of my neck burned fiercely, as if someone had pressed a red-hot branding iron against the old wound and was slowly pushing it deeper. Cold water dripped from the edge of the sink, splashing onto the floor beside my knees. I curled my legs up, fingertips pressing against the ground, my breath coming in tight bursts.

That burning sensation dragged me forcibly back to five years ago.

I was eighteen then, fresh from Gray Valley County to Silver Crown City. I didn't dare think too far ahead back then.

I only repeated one thing to myself over and over: graduate, find a job in Silver Crown City, then save money to bring my grandfather here for treatment.

That day I was standing by the school field, watching through the fence as a group of warriors in black combat uniforms trained.

I crouched by the fence, raising my phone to capture the light and shadow of the training ground. The lens swung and swept across a handsome face. Sand-gold curls, cobalt blue eyes—immediately, a group of followers swarmed around like they'd caught the scent of blood.

"Who are you secretly photographing?"

"Do you know who that is? How dare you randomly photograph the Alpha heir of the tribe?"

Someone reached out to snatch my phone. I clutched it to my chest and stepped back two paces, my heels scraping against the ground, my heartbeat pressing painfully against my throat.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I'll delete it right away..."

"Hand over the phone." The person whistled. "Or I'll smash it for you."

My fingers went stiff. Just as I was about to open the photo album, a cold voice pressed down from above my head.

"What's all this commotion."

The surroundings fell silent at once.

I looked up to see a man standing on the main platform of the field, black combat uniform wrapping around a body of cold, hard lines. The silver wolf insignia of Lead Warrior on his shoulder flashed in the sunlight. Ice-gray eyes swept down from above, like a blade scraping across skin.

This was my first encounter with Alpha Bruce.

He didn't look at me, only frowned slightly at the pretty boy surrounded in the middle. The several werewolves who had been jeering immediately fell silent. The boy pulled at the corner of his mouth, raised his hand and waved, signaling them to disperse.

I clutched my phone and ran back to the dorm as if fleeing.

That night, I deleted all the photos I'd taken, secretly keeping only one. By the edge of the platform, a black silhouette, lines as cold as an unsheathed blade.

I thought that incident had passed.

The dorm was very quiet. I sat at my desk flipping through the photography course textbook I'd just received, my fingers brushing over the illustration of Silver Crown City's Moon Goddess Temple on the cover. I had just finished a phone call with my grandmother, and my grandfather's coughing still seemed stuck in my ears, grinding against my nerves one rasp at a time.

His medication was running out. I pressed the scholarship notice under my textbook, lowered my head and calculated the numbers twice, biting my lip until it turned white.

I had to make it through these four years.

Get the graduation certificate, stay in Silver Crown City—only then would I have a path forward.

Megan was sprawled across from me munching on a sandwich when she suddenly shoved her phone in front of my eyes, breadcrumbs nearly falling onto the screen.

"You're famous." She blinked. "The campus forum is all guessing who you are. Logan, the Alpha heir of the tribe, is even asking around for your name."

I frowned and gently pushed her phone away.

"Stop it."

"I'm serious." She thrust the screen forward again. "He says he wants to meet the Omega who took the photo."

"I won't have any connection with that kind of noble-blooded werewolf." I turned a page in my textbook, my voice very low. "Don't make jokes about me."

Megan stared at me for two seconds, shrugged, and went back to biting her sandwich.

But I didn't absorb a single page.

In the afternoon practical combat training class, I deliberately chose the most corner position.

The training wooden sword felt slippery in my palm, which was soaked with sweat. My wolf soul hadn't awakened yet, and my physical condition was weak—in combat class, I was always at the bottom. When others swung their swords, they brought wind; when I raised my hand, my arm felt heavy.

During team assignments, when the instructor called my name, he paused, then raised his hand and pointed to the other side.

"You, go to Logan's group."

My back instantly tensed.

Logan walked over in his black training uniform, the curls at his temple dampened with sweat, his smile carrying a showy quality. He held a bottle of sports drink in his hand and offered it directly to me.

"For you." He raised an eyebrow. "I saw your work in the campus photography exhibition. It was very good."

A circle of students around us immediately whistled and jeered.

My face burned at once, even my ears turning hot. I took the bottle, said "thank you" with my head lowered, and turned to escape.

Just one step out, I crashed into an embrace carrying the scent of cedarwood.

Through the fabric, I felt a hard, undeniable outline against my lower abdomen.

My brain seemed to have its pause button pressed. I jerked my head up and first saw a pair of ice-gray eyes. Looking down further, black combat boots, straight and cold trouser lines, the silver badge on his shoulder.

It was Alpha Bruce.

Also Logan's uncle.

I froze completely in place, my fingertips suddenly gripping the drink bottle tight, the plastic body making a slight deformation sound. Alpha Bruce lowered his eyes and glanced at me, his gaze pausing for half a second on my whitened fingers. He said nothing, only raised his hand slightly, signaling me to move aside.

I immediately stepped to the side.

He walked past me, the cedarwood scent brushing past my nose, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up all at once.

In that instant, I could barely hold onto the bottle.

After class, I deliberately packed up very slowly.

When most people had dispersed from the field, I finally gathered my things and headed out. Just as I reached the front of the academic building, footsteps sounded behind me.

"Estelle."

I turned around to see Logan had chased after me.

He was running a bit urgently, his bangs messy, but his blue eyes were astonishingly bright, completely unlike the Alpha heir surrounded by crowds on the training field.

"Are you avoiding me?" He stood in front of me with a smile. "I just want your contact information."

I held my phone, not moving immediately.

He looked at me, his tone softening somewhat.

"Don't worry, I won't smash your phone."

I was caught off guard by his humor, though my fingertips remained tense. After a long while, I finally entered my number for him. Logan looked down at it, the smile on his face deepening as he waved his phone.

"Are you free on Friday?"

I looked up at him.

"There's a celebration banquet for a senior at Moonstone Hall." He said, "I want to take you with me."

After returning to the dorm, that message lay quietly on the screen.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at that line of text for a long time. My grandfather's treatment fees for next month still hadn't been secured, and the scholarship would only last so long. An Alpha heir—that was someone who could command wind and rain even in Silver Crown City. If I could maintain a good relationship with him, staying here after graduation might be easier.

I bit my lower lip and slowly typed.

"Okay, I'll go."

The moment I sent the message, my finger still rested on the screen, not yet withdrawn.

For no reason, I thought again of that cedarwood-scented embrace today, and that hard, undeniable outline. Being Alpha Bruce's girlfriend must be very happy, at least in bed it would be very happy.

Back then, I knew nothing.

I didn't know that agreeing to go to that celebration banquet was the first step of personally walking into Alpha Bruce's trap.