Lila collapsed onto her ridiculously plush bed, the silk duvet feeling less luxurious and more like a suffocation device. Adrian's final, knowing smirk over the Whispering Blade hung in the air like a visible threat. She had survived the trek, but she was now chemically exposed and politically cornered.
The Whispering Blade. I know the entire lore! Lila thought frantically. It's an Alpha weapon tied to a shadowy organization. If Adrian gets it, he won't just win the Trials; he'll destabilize the entire continental power structure!
Her headache throbbed in rhythm with her frantic pulse. The thought of sleeping was a joke, but her body, brutalized by the dawn trek, was shutting down. She didn't even bother removing her damp, uncomfortable riding clothes. She simply pulled the covers over her head, wishing for total darkness.
Lila's sleep was immediately plunged into the grotesque, high-definition terror of a true cinematic nightmare.
She was back in the cluttered, dusty bookstore, but the shelves were lined only with editions of the fantasy novel, all titled: Your Doom is Delicious.
The old woman stood behind the counter, but her face was now a smooth, unsettling blank. She was holding the heavy book Lila had read, but the pages were flipping wildly on their own, illuminated by a terrifying cyan glow.
"You read the warning, child!?" the old woman's voice boomed, echoing in the confined space, "The True Blood's Aura compels, but it is intensely toxic! You are an Omega lineage, marked by the fleeting, uncontrollable cyanic shift! You are doomed to the Elemental Seizure!"
Suddenly, the floor dissolved. Lila found herself suspended above a massive, ceremonial stone—the Sentinel Stone—which glowed with the sickening blue light. A deep, cold, resonating voice chanted, not runes, but the scientific terms from the research text: "Archaic lineage... dormant magic... prolonged exposure... permanent mental collapse!"
Then, a massive, muscular shadow loomed over her. Adrian Wolfhart, clad entirely in black leather, mounted on his horse, looking like the poster boy for Toxic True Alpha Dominance. He reached down, and his eyes, instead of silver, were two glowing, hypnotic blue flashes.
"Why do you run, specimen?" Adrian's voice was a chilling whisper, laced with the scent of ozone and pine. "Your fear is a valuable data point. Don't be selfish, Lila. Share your delicious, fatal flaw with me!"
He lunged, his hand reaching for her neck. Lila screamed, a frantic, real-world shriek of pure panic.
Lila woke up with a strangled, muffled yell. She thrashed against the silk sheets, convinced Adrian was actually in the room, reaching for her neck.
She tried to scramble away from the "villain," mistaking the edge of her bed for the edge of a cliff. She launched herself sideways with all her might, intending to land on her feet in a heroic, combat-ready crouch.
Instead, she forgot the bed was massive and high. She flew past the mattress, missed the carpeted floor entirely, and landed with a bone-jarring, stomach-churning, loud THWACK directly onto the polished hardwood floor, hitting her most padded asset: her rear end (basically her small butt😂).
Lila lay sprawled on the cold floor, the air entirely knocked out of her lungs. The sheer, sharp, agonizing pain immediately eclipsed the terror of the nightmare.
"Owww!" she wheezed, grabbing her hip. "My bum! My poor, unsuspecting bum! I think I dislocated my dignity!"
She tried to push herself up, only to find her hand land directly on the tiny, crushed wooden wolf figurine she had thrown in the waste bin earlier. She must have knocked the bin over during her frantic scramble.
"Oh, you! You little wooden spy!" she hissed, snatching up the pieces. "You saw that! You saw the humiliation! Tell Adrian his 'Omega Asset' is currently paralyzed on the floor because she fell off her ridiculous bed!"
She was still half-yelling when the door to her suite dinged again.
"Assistant Blackwood? Is everything satisfactory? We heard a loud sound." It was Adrian's personal, extremely nervous Beta retainer.
Lila scrambled to sit up, instantly adopting a look of regal composure, despite the tears of pain in her eyes.
"Everything is perfectly satisfactory, Beta!" Lila called out, her voice loud and overly cheerful, as she awkwardly tried to dust off her rear. "It was merely an advanced Blackwood stretch! Very complex! I am conditioning my core stabilizers for the impending Physical Trials! Tell Alpha Wolfhart that my stabilization exercises are progressing splendidly!"
The poor Beta retainer, hearing the strange, high-pitched voice and the loud, dramatic lie, simply whispered, "Yes, Assistant," and scurried away, undoubtedly adding a note to Adrian's report: Subject engaged in noisy, high-impact core conditioning exercises resulting in loud thud. Possible self-inflicted injury. Suggest further observation.
Lila sighed, rubbing her bruised dignity. "Great. Now Adrian thinks I'm a manic gymnast with self-destructive tendencies."
Later that day, Adrian gave Lila her new assignment—one that was purely political and delightfully frustrating for her.
"The First Trial is a week away," Adrian stated, pushing a stack of invitations across his massive desk. "It is the Social Harmony Challenge—a grand ball where alliances are cemented. Since you are my asset, you are responsible for two critical things: attire and alliance management."
Lila stared at the list. "Attire? Alpha, I'm wearing riding gear. I thought we were focused on... you know, continental destabilization?"
"We are," Adrian said, his silver eyes fixed on her. "But the world begins with appearances, Lila. You will be presenting yourself as a formidable asset. You must procure and approve your dress and jewelry. And more importantly, you must manage the Omegas."
He leaned forward, his voice dropping. "I require you to observe the primary Omegas—Chloe, Tiffany, and especially Rose Williams—and report their alliances. Who is Rose courting? Who is giving her special attention? I need a clear hierarchy of her suitors. This is your political assessment task."
Lila mentally groaned. He wants me to participate in the most boring part of the novel: the social ladder climbing! And spy on the heroine's love life! Is he trying to kill me? suspicious, ....really suspicious?
"So, you want me to play the role of a jealous, gossiping rival?" Lila asked flatly.
Adrian smiled that terrifying, genuine smile again. "Exactly. That role suits you, Assistant. And it will be your cover. No one will suspect the Blackwood villainess is anything more than a petty spy."
"And what about my own potential suitors?" Lila asked, testing him. "What if I receive offers of alliance?"
Adrian picked up a small, antique inkwell—one of the few things on his desk that looked genuinely dangerous.
"You will not," he stated simply. "The moment I claimed you as my asset, your political value became singular. If any Alpha dares to approach you, you will politely inform them that you are solely focused on the Trials, and that any attempt to distract you would be seen as an act of aggression against the True Blood lineage."
Lila sighed. "So, I'm a social pariah, a glorified fashion model, and an unwilling spy in the Omega trenches. Got it. Anything else?"
Adrian put the inkwell down and slid a new leather-bound notebook across the desk. It was beautifully embossed.
"One final thing, Assistant. I require you to use this journal to record your immediate reactions every time I am within five feet of you. I want detailed descriptions of the tingling, the seizure onset, and the intensity of the blue flash. For my research."
Lila stared at the beautiful book. Adrian wasn't just observing her; he wanted her to self-report her own slow, chemical demise.
"You want me to journal my own poisoning," Lila stated, utterly stunned by his sheer audacity.
"Precisely," Adrian confirmed. "It's vital data. And do try to be scientific, Assistant. Not... overly dramatic."
Lila snatched the book, her face a mask of outrage.
Overly dramatic? I'll show him overly dramatic! I'll describe the tingling as 'the feeling of a thousand tiny, angry Alpha spiders attempting to knit a very constricting vest of pure despair' and the seizure as 'my imminent, highly theatrical death that will require an entire opera house to stage!'
She knew she couldn't refuse. She was trapped. But she could certainly make the surveillance reports, and now her personal journal, an absolute comedic nightmare for the True Blood Alpha who dared to read them.
Adrian's expression turned weird seeing Lila leaving, her walking was weird.