Lila's hip was still protesting her sudden, unceremonious exit from the bed, forcing her into a slightly awkward, stiff-legged walk she mentally dubbed "The Blackwood Waddle."
Leaving Adrian's study after receiving her new orders, she risked a quick glance back. Adrian was already absorbed in his books, but his silver eyes flicked up for a split second, taking in her strange gait. Lila quickly straightened up, pretending the waddle was just a new, avant-garde way of walking. She was almost certain she saw a faint, amused flicker cross his expression before he returned to his dark lore.
He knows. He absolutely knows I fell, she thought, flushing with humiliated fury.
Lila spent the next two days trying to fulfill her dual role: political spy and toxin journaler.
1. The Journal of Doom: Her mandatory journal quickly became her secret weapon. She documented her proximity symptoms with excessive, dramatic flair.
Log Entry 14:The Alpha was within the designated five-foot radius for 47 minutes. The 'tingling' was less like scientific data and more like a thousand highly caffeinated, angry earthworms attempting to burrow through my dermal layer. My eyes did the cyanic shift briefly during his lecture on the Whispering Blade, which I shall henceforth refer to as 'The Sword of Terrible Decisions.' The proximity is not merely toxic; it is an affront to the very essence of my soul. Note to Adrian: Find a less terrifying cologne. (Rating: 8/10 on the Impending Doom Scale).
2. The Omega Report: Her spying was equally dramatic, though less successful. The assignment required her to track Rose Williams and her suitors, an act that felt petty and beneath her... but necessary.
She observed the heroine with the diligence of a private investigator, tracking Rose's interactions in the dining hall and the library and write about it using her story dramatics, which is actually true according to the story she is in, but nobody else knows.
Harry Westwell (The Hero): Obvious. Constant, lingering looks. Standard romantic yearning.
Marcus (The Alpha Rival): Sneaky. Sent Rose an anonymous box of chocolates (Lila saw the crest). Low-stakes, standard antagonism.
Rhys (A Mid-Tier Alpha): This was the surprise. Rhys, a quiet Alpha known for his academic brilliance, was spending excessive time with Rose, discussing ancient Pack laws.
Lila compiled her report, delivering it to Adrian with a practiced air of bored disdain.
"Rose Williams is cultivating Rhys, a mid-tier Alpha with significant legal influence," Lila reported, standing the required three feet from his desk. "She is building political capital, Alpha. Harry is emotional noise. Rhys is the strategic threat."
Adrian barely glanced up from his parchment. "Adequate, Assistant. You have a surprisingly decent grasp of tactical alliance-building. Now, address the final concern. Your gown."
The night of the Social Harmony Challenge—the grand ball—arrived with the weight of political destiny. Lila was dressed in a gown chosen by Adrian's retainer: a stunning, deep emerald silk that clashed perfectly with the rich gold and burgundy of the Blackwood suite. It was a statement of independence from her own pack's colors, reinforcing her singular status as Adrian's asset.
Adrian met her in the central hall. He wore severe black ceremonial dress, and his True Blood Aura was consciously intensified, a silent declaration of ownership that made the air feel thick and heavy around them.
"You look... presentable, Assistant," Adrian observed, his silver eyes lingering on her bare shoulders, then dropping to her still-slightly-stiff walking. "I trust your 'core stabilizers' are prepared for the waltz."
"They are functioning at maximum tolerance, Alpha," Lila bit back, trying desperately not to show the waddle.
Adrian simply nodded and offered his arm. "Let's begin the performance, then."
The Grand Ballroom was a glittering spectacle of silk, crystal, and power. Hundreds of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas were gathered, the atmosphere humming with suppressed tension and pheromones. The moment Lila walked in on Adrian's arm, the entire room went silent. Every eye was on the True Blood Alpha and his unexpected, controversial Omega Asset.
Lila felt the blood rush from her head. She was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer sensory chaos. Adrian's hand felt like a burning brand on her arm. The collective Alpha pheromones in the air were a deafening, dizzying roar.
"Remember your instructions," Adrian murmured, his voice too close, too demanding. "Observe, and do not deviate."
Lila tried to focus on her spy work, but the world was spinning. She saw Rose Williams enter with Harry Westwell, looking every bit the kind-hearted, radiant heroine. Chloe, dressed in a daring scarlet gown, shot Lila a glare that promised murder.
Lila was a fish in a tank full of hungry sharks.
Lila and Adrian performed the mandatory opening waltz—a torturous, silent exercise where Lila had to focus every ounce of her will not to seize or waddle awkwardly. The second the dance finished, Adrian immediately released her.
"Maintain the perimeter," he commanded. "Do not speak to anyone I have not authorized. I have business to conclude."
He walked away, cutting a straight, terrifying path across the floor. Lila watched him head toward a dimly lit alcove where Marcus Westwell and several other high-ranking Alpha rivals were gathered.
Lila tried to stick to the wall, pretending to sip champagne and observe, but the floor felt like quicksand. The crowd pressed in, the collective gaze of the Academy making her feel exposed and small.
Suddenly, a group of three Omegas—none of whom Lila had ever seen before—approached her. They were beautiful, poised, and utterly unfamiliar.
"Assistant Blackwood," the lead Omega purred, her smile unnervingly sweet. "We simply wanted to confirm something. We heard you are the reason Adrian Wolfhart now possesses the Whispering Key."
Lila froze. The key he got from the Sentinel Stone! They were testing her.
"I have no idea what you are referring to," Lila said coolly, attempting to project the Blackwood arrogance.
"Such modesty," the second Omega scoffed. "But the fact remains that Adrian disrupted the balance of power, and that key—which controls access to certain ancient Pack Artifacts—was meant for another. An unclaimed Omega."
The Omegas closed ranks, subtly boxing Lila in against a tall, heavy marble column. This wasn't petty jealousy; it was an organized, political attack.
"The key is of no concern to you," Lila warned, feeling the panic rise. "My association with the True Blood Alpha is a matter of state."
"Then let us change the state," the lead Omega hissed. She reached out, her hand moving with unnatural speed, and produced a thin, silver dagger. It was not a ceremonial blade; it was sharp and wickedly curved.
"If the asset is damaged," the Omega sneered, "the True Blood's claim becomes void."
The Omega lunged, aiming directly for Lila's bandaged palm—the site of the elemental blood test.
Lila reacted on pure instinct, screaming a small, choked sound and throwing her champagne glass at the Omega's face. It shattered against the woman's elegant mask, buying Lila half a second. But the Omega was relentless, her eyes fixed on the target.
Lila was trapped against the column, the blade inches from her hand.
Suddenly, a terrifying presence slammed into the small group. The air around them cracked like thunder, and the collective Alpha pheromones in the ballroom were violently suppressed.
A flash of black material and cold silver.
Adrian Wolfhart had moved with impossible speed, his face a mask of absolute, chilling fury. He slammed his arm out, catching the attacking Omega's wrist with brutal force, making the silver dagger clatter to the polished floor. The three Omegas screamed, stumbling back in terrified shock from the True Blood's overwhelming power.
Adrian didn't spare a glance for the attackers. He stepped in front of Lila, entirely shielding her from the room. He was breathing heavily, and the air around him was now laced with pure, unadulterated danger—his True Blood Aura blazing like a wildfire.
Lila was pressed against his back, safe but completely overwhelmed. Her heart hammered against her ribs, so hard it actually hurt. She felt the familiar, terrifying onset of the Elemental Seizure—the tingling, the dizziness.
Adrian slowly turned, his eyes searching hers. The entire ballroom was silent, watching them.
His silver gaze met her wide, terrified eyes. In that instant, every political threat, every past insult, every scientific observation vanished. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, were ablaze with a terrifying intensity that looked less like possessiveness and more like raw, primitive protection.
Lila's breath hitched. She was paralyzed, not by the toxin, but by the sheer, overwhelming proximity and the intensity of his gaze. She could feel the dizzying, dangerous pull, the magnetic field of the toxic attraction. Her heart was racing so violently that she genuinely thought it might burst from her chest.
Adrian, seeing the tell-tale shimmer starting in her eyes, reached up. His gloved thumb gently brushed the faint moisture from her cheek, his touch surprisingly soft amid the chaos.
He had saved her. In front of the entire Academy.
And in that dizzying, dangerous moment, Lila realized she couldn't tell if the frantic beating of her heart was pure terror, or something far more complicated.