Chapter 2

JILLIAN

The academy was quiet as the last bell rang. Everyone else rushed out, laughing, gossiping, and racing to their dorms or the streets beyond the walls. Not me. I stayed.

Unlike the other students, I had work to do.

I was an omega who survived by staying invisible, but the academy didn't care about invisibility. The poor omegas always cleaned, polished, and tidied, moving quietly while the elites strutted through corridors like they owned the moon and stars. I worked in the shadows, scrubbing the floors, dusting the shelves, emptying bins, and checking lights.

I didn't mind. I'd learned to find comfort in silence.

Tonight, the only light came from the dim lamps above, casting long shadows across the hallway. I hummed softly, trying to keep my mind off everything—especially Larson.

I was smart, faster than most of the other omegas. The king himself had allowed me certain privileges, letting me study in the library after hours, granting me access to texts others would never touch. I didn't belong to the elite, but I had his favor.

Or... at least I thought I did.

As I scrubbed the floor near the bathroom, I froze.

There. Waiting.

Mariel.

Her Beta blood radiated dominance even in the low light, and her three friends—Emily, Agatha, and Lesley—stood like predators. My stomach twisted into knots.

"Oh, Jillian," Mariel purred, stepping forward. "Thought you could hide, huh?"

Before I could react, she grabbed a fistful of my hair. Pain shot through my scalp, and I stumbled forward, barely able to catch myself.

"Mariel, please—" I whispered, but she ignored me.

She shoved me into the nearest bathroom cubicle, slammed the door, and twisted the lock.

Click.

I spun around, pressing my hands against the cold metal door. "Please... let me go..."

Laughter echoed through the small space.

"Next time," Mariel snapped, "know where to stand. Never look at Larson. He will never like you. HE IS MINE!"

I sank to the floor, hot tears streaming down my face. My wolf, Gigi, growled angrily inside my mind.

Why aren't you fighting, Jillian? she hissed.

"I can't!" I whispered back. "She's Beta Harry's daughter! She's strong! She's... she's the mate of Larson! The future king! I'm nothing!"

So what? Gigi snarled. Mariel has no worth to be queen. You are stronger than her in every way that matters!

But strength didn't matter right now. Not in this tight, locked cubicle, not when Mariel and her friends were laughing outside.

"I'm going to make sure you become the lowest slave in this school," Mariel sneered, voice echoing faintly through the walls. "And if I'm queen one day... you will regret every second you ever looked at Larson."

The girls' laughter followed them down the hallway, leaving me alone in the silent, dim cubicle.

I pressed my hands over my face. I was trapped. Everyone else had gone home. The maintenance staff had left hours ago. The lights flickered and then went out.

Darkness swallowed me.

I curled into myself, tears flowing freely. My wolf paced inside my chest, restless, furious, untamed.

You can't stay like this, Jillian! Gigi snapped. You're letting her win!

"I... I can't fight her," I whispered, voice cracking. "I... I'm weak. I'm nothing."

Nothing? Gigi hissed. You're not nothing! You are me!

I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to believe her. I wanted to feel it—but in this cubicle, trapped, locked, abandoned, all I felt was despair.

Minutes—or maybe hours—passed. The darkness was complete. The sounds of the academy faded into silence. I cried until my throat ached, until my wolf's growls echoed in my skull like thunder.

I pressed my palms against the door. I banged, screamed, begged. Nothing.

"Please... anyone... help..." My voice barely carried, swallowed by the thick walls.

Then... a pulse. Something different. Something strong.

Before I could understand it, the door rattled violently, and someone kicked it open.

I yelped and scrambled back. My heart slammed against my ribs.

Standing in the doorway—towering, imposing, yet somehow... familiar—was King Carlton Davis. And beside him, the impossible, stormy presence of Larson Davis.

King Carlton's brow furrowed as his piercing golden eyes scanned me. "Who locked you in here?" His voice was calm but sharp, carrying the authority of a king.

Gigi growled through my mind. Tell the truth, Jillian!

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. My hands clenched my books tightly. No. If I tell, he'll punish me... or worse, Mariel will get even more vicious.

"I... I did it... accidentally," I whispered, barely able to meet their eyes. My gaze stayed glued to the floor, cheeks burning.

The king frowned again, but he didn't push. "Go home," he said, voice softening. "Rest. You've had a long day."

I nodded quickly, murmuring, "Yes... thank you, sir. I'll... excuse me." I turned to leave, relief mixing with shame, but a hand landed on my shoulder.

I froze.

Larson's hand. Warm. Strong. Electric. My body shivered. My wolf, Gigi, hissed inside me, teeth bared.

He leaned slightly closer, voice low but tense. "Why do you have a bruise on your neck? Did Mariel hurt you again?"

I looked down, swallowing hard. "No..." I whispered, barely audible. Then, without another word, I bolted, running as fast as I could out of the academy.

Why the hell didn't you tell him?! Gigi growled.

Tears blurred my vision as I ran. "If I tell him... Mariel will bully me even worse!" I sobbed to myself.

By the time I reached my tiny home at the edge of the Crescent Moon Pack, I felt hollow. The small shared space with the other neighbor omega felt even smaller, suffocating. I sank into the corner, clutching my knees, the weight of loneliness pressing down.

"I... I can't stay here. I should leave the pack," I whispered through my tears.

No, Gigi snapped. King Carlton gave you a chance. A chance to study, to work, to rise above being just another omega. Don't throw it away.

I nodded weakly, but my mind wandered. If Mariel marries Larson and becomes queen... my life will be worse than now.

Gigi changed the topic sharply. Tell me, Jillian... do you feel anything for King Carlton? Or Larson?

I pressed my palms over my eyes. "I... I have no right to feel anything... not for either of them," I whispered.

I lay down to sleep, heart pounding heavily, tears still wet on my cheeks. One side of my mind pulsed strangely whenever I thought of them—the father and son—something unfamiliar stirring, confusing, dangerous, and... magnetic.

Sleep came fitfully, shadows of fear, longing, and something else I didn't understand crawling into my dreams.