The tension in the lecture hall, though initially overwhelming, slowly began to normalize for the majority of the students. Alphas and Betas, having acclimated to Adrian Wolfhart's crushing aura, settled back into a low, buzzing murmur, treating the True Blood Alpha's presence as an intensely beautiful, immovable statue in their midst.
But for Lila, sitting at the back, there was no normalization. The overwhelming pressure was a constant, icy weight pressing against her ribs. Her Omega body was in a state of sustained emergency. She couldn't relax; her muscles were rigid, and her breath was shallow.
She risked a quick, furtive glance toward the front row. Rose Williams, seated next to Harry, looked perfectly calm, leaning forward to whisper something to him. She was an Omega, too, yet she was completely unaffected. Lila's gaze swept over the other Omegas nearby; they looked uncomfortable, but not near collapse.
Everyone else is fine! Are they all just better actors? Or is the Omega rank truly this much of a liability? Why is my reaction so extreme?
She tried to distract herself by focusing on Professor Eldridge, who was detailing the history of the Lycanthropy Accords—the most boring part of the book, which Ava had skimmed—but even the smell of dust and old parchment couldn't override the cold, metallic scent of Adrian Wolfhart.
Lila was forced to use all her concentration just to keep the Lila Mask perfectly still, a serene expression hiding the fact that internally, she was a screaming, panicked mess.
Just as she was internally congratulating herself on surviving the first twenty minutes, Professor Eldridge cleared his throat, adjusting his spectacles.
"Now, before we continue with the lecture series," he squeaked, his voice jarringly high after the forced silence. "The headmaster has decided that for the first week, we will utilize a seating arrangement to foster inter-pack unity and encourage interaction across ranks. Ms. Hawthorne," he called, nodding at Lila's accidental sidekick. "Please distribute the finalized seating charts."
Lila's blood turned to ice. Seating chart change? No! That's not in the book! This is a plot divergence, and plot divergence is how you die in the first act!
Elara, clutching the stack of printed parchment, stood up, looking terrified but obedient.
Lila leaned in quickly, her voice a fierce whisper that only her immediate neighbors could hear. "Elara, if that chart puts me anywhere near the Alpha section, you accidentally spill coffee on it. Understand?"
Elara, startled by the intensity, simply nodded mutely and began handing out the papers.
When the thick parchment reached Lila, she snatched it, her eyes immediately finding her name: Lila Blackwood. She traced the corresponding seat number with a trembling finger: Row 3, Seat 5.
Row 3. That was the central section, dangerously close to the front.
Row 3, Seat 5. She quickly scanned the chart to find the seating assignments near her. Row 3, Seat 4... is Adrian Wolfhart.
Lila's world tilted.
"No, no, no! This is worse than a car crash! This is like being assigned to sleep in the same bed as the psycho killer! Why didn't the original story mention mandatory mixed seating? Oh, right, because the original Lila was so obsessed with Harry, she probably bribed the professor to sit next to him! I failed to bribe the right person!"
The panic was overwhelming. She felt the blood rush from her face, making her dizzy. The sheer terror, coupled with the immediate physical threat of having the True Blood Alpha as her neighbor, slammed into her Omega instincts.
Her body, already primed by the overwhelming pressure of his pheromones, instantly betrayed her. A raw, choked whimper of absolute panic—tiny, involuntary, and heartbreakingly helpless—escaped her lips.
It was so small, so soft, that in the normal roar of the hall, no one would have heard it.
But this was Adrian Wolfhart's domain. And in this world, Alphas could often sense when an Omega was in an extreme emotional state through their scent. Adrian, the True Blood, could sense and hear everything ten times more clearly than any other rank.
Lila squeezed her eyes shut, internally screaming, Shut up, body! You traitor!
She slowly opened her eyes, forcing herself to look toward the front. The majority of the Alphas were already standing and moving to their new seats, focused on the chart.
But Adrian Wolfhart—who hadn't moved a muscle since he sat down—was now slowly turning his head.
His eyes, the silver of melted metal and just as cold, fixed directly on the back row. He wasn't looking at her. He was looking through the crowd, directly at the precise bench where she sat.
For a chilling second, the True Blood Alpha, known in the book for his malicious and arrogant disposition, didn't show any emotion. He was simply observing, like a king spotting a rogue mouse in his throne room.
He heard me. He smelled my fear. He knows where the trembling Omega is.
Lila gripped the bench one last time, fighting the urge to vomit or faint. She had two choices: stay and defy the headmaster, earning a lifetime of trouble, or move and sit next to her killer.
"We must move quickly, Lila," Tiffany chirped, pulling her arm. "I'm Row 4, right next to Harry. Come on!"
Lila numbly stood up, letting her two loyal Betas pull her toward the front. Chloe and Tiffany were ecstatic about their proximity to the "hot" Alphas, completely oblivious to the mortal danger they were pulling their queen toward. Elara followed, her head bowed low, carrying the last stack of charts.
The walk from the back row to Row 3 felt like a mile-long march across a crowded battlefield. Every step brought her closer to that unbearable aura. When she reached her seat, she couldn't meet anyone's eyes.
She quickly dropped into Row 3, Seat 5, putting her bag down and trying to appear bored.
She was now less than a foot away from Adrian Wolfhart.
The scent of cedarwood, iron, and absolute, devastating power hit her with the force of a physical blow. She felt the Omega within her body seize up, the primal instinct demanding she bow her head and offer her throat.
She clamped her jaw shut, desperately reciting the periodic table in her head: Hydrogen, Helium, Lithium, Beryllium… Stay focused!
She didn't dare look at him. She just stared straight ahead at Professor Eldridge's droning lecture, trying to channel the arrogance of the original Lila to override the trembling fear of Ava.
A moment passed. Then another.
Lila was so tense she thought her spine might shatter. She needed to breathe, but breathing meant inhaling more of his crushing pheromones.
Finally, a deep, resonant voice—the one that had cracked the air when he first entered—cut through the silence. It wasn't loud, but the sound vibrated through the floor and directly into her bones.
"I can smell your fear, Omega."
Lila froze. Her heart stopped. She knew, instantly, that he wasn't speaking to the room. He was speaking only to her.
"It's loud."