Lila's muscles ached, but the internal fire was finally extinguished. She was exhausted but victorious. When Adrian released her, she felt the immediate weight of the last two days—the agonizing need, the shame, and the immense, complex gratitude toward the man standing over her.
She was now dressed in the clean, soft clothing he had provided. Adrian, despite his sleepless vigil, had quickly changed back into a fresh, tailored suit of combat armor.
Lila looked at him. "You need sleep," she stated simply.
Adrian turned, and the change in his expression was immediate, stark, and deeply unsettling. His silver eyes, previously bloodshot and strained, now rested on her, and they were impossibly soft. They seemed to absorb all the light in the room, focusing it entirely on her face. There was no clinical analysis, no commanding sharpness—only a deep, quiet, intense devotion.
He gave a slight, dismissive shrug. "The physiological necessity of sleep is secondary to political stability. And you are no longer in danger. That is sufficient rest."
Lila blushed under the intensity of that gaze. His eyes didn't just look at her, they worshipped her tenacity, her struggle, and her survival. It made the air around them feel charged, intimate, and profoundly awkward.
Adrian opened the secure door of the Deep Isolation Wing. His Beta security team was waiting, instantly snapping to attention. Adrian didn't acknowledge them, his focus remained locked on Lila.
"We proceed directly to my private office in the Central Tower," Adrian commanded, his voice regaining its authoritarian tone for his guards. "No stops. No deviations."
They were escorted through the labyrinthine tunnels and onto a separate, specialized transport—a small, enclosed rune-powered shuttle.
Inside the shuttle, Adrian settled into a chair, but Lila stood, restless with pent-up energy.
"What is the status of the Shadow Council?" Lila asked, trying to pull her mind back to politics and away from the memory of his possessive growls and the cold wire.
Adrian leaned back, watching her with those intense, soft eyes.
"The strike on the Data Repository was highly effective," Adrian explained, his tone a smooth ripple of victory. "They are unable to corrupt the voting mechanisms for the next 72 hours. This gives us a window to expose the assassin, Harry Westwell."
"Harry," Lila repeated, the name tasting like ash. "What about Chloe? And Elara?"
"Chloe is secured at a remote Beta facility. She is no longer in danger, and the pheromone has subsided," Adrian said. "Elara is currently in my private employ at the estate. She is safe and is coordinating logistics."
Adrian reached across the small table between them and placed a large, cold hand over Lila's trembling one. His touch was firm, stabilizing, and deeply grounding.
"Lila," he said, and the way he spoke her name now was different—less a label, more a breath. His eyes, fixed on her, conveyed a silent promise: I will never let anyone hurt you again.
The shuttle docked beneath the Central Academy Tower. Adrian led her directly into his massive, minimalist office—a room of polished black granite and massive rune-etched windows overlooking the sprawling campus.
Adrian moved straight to his commanding desk, activating a powerful, holographic projector that displayed complex magical schematics and newsfeeds.
"The Shadow Council is making its move," Adrian stated, pointing to a headline detailing a sudden call for an emergency Alpha Assembly meeting. "They plan to use the recent 'unexplained chaos' at the Falls and the 'Beta incompetence' in the trials to launch a motion of no-confidence against me."
Lila moved to stand beside him, her exhaustion forgotten. "They're using the chaos we created to frame you?"
"Precisely," Adrian confirmed. "They will argue that my leadership is too reckless, too dangerous, and that a 'Golden Alpha' like Westwell is needed for stability."
Lila looked at the headline, then back at Adrian. She saw the unwavering trust in her that shone from his silver eyes.
"You need to expose Harry now," Lila said urgently. "Before the Assembly votes."
"We will," Adrian agreed, a dangerous edge returning to his voice, directed at his enemies, not her. "But we need undeniable proof that links him directly to the Shadow Council's funds."
He looked at her, and his eyes softened again, drawing her into his focus.
"You are the only person who has seen the full infrastructure of the trap," Adrian said. "You know where the cipher keys were hidden. You know the true source of the power drain at the Falls. You are the only person who can deliver the final, damning testimony."
He placed a data slate into her hands. It was the complete, pristine account of the Trial, from the cave discovery to the recent attack.
"We have two hours until the Assembly convenes," Adrian commanded, his eyes now conveying absolute trust. "I need you to review this data, identify the final, undeniable link between Harry Westwell's Ancient Texts funding and the Shadow Council's illegal transactions. You will be presenting the case to the entire Assembly. You will be my voice, Lila."
It was the single greatest trust he had ever placed in her, not as a source of raw data, but as his intellectual and political equal.
Lila looked down at the data slate, the weight of the political future of the Academy in her hands. She looked up at Adrian, whose silver eyes were entirely dedicated to her.
"What if they try to arrest me? I am still an Omega" Lila questioned, her voice firm.
Adrian stepped close to her, his powerful presence enveloping her. He reached out and gently rested his hand on the back of her neck—a safe, stabilizing pressure that spoke of ownership but also profound protection.
"You are under my absolute claim and protection," Adrian stated, his voice a low, fierce promise, his eyes softening until they were almost molten. "They cannot touch you. Furthermore," he paused, his gaze dropping briefly to the tender skin of her neck, "after the past forty-eight hours, I have adjusted the parameters of your claim."
He leaned down, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for her.
"You are no longer 'Asset,' Lila. Effective immediately, the claim has been upgraded. You are my Consort."
He didn't demand a kiss or a reaction. He simply let the word hang in the charged air, a political title that carried the weight of absolute protection, but also a deeply personal promise. He was claiming her not just as his to study, but as his political partner and equal.