OLIVIA'S P.O.V
"Ahh…"
There it was again. That voice.
That soft, distant call I always heard after dark. It echoed in the back of my mind like a whisper made of wind and moonlight.
Lately, it had been stronger. More insistent. More… alive.
"No. Olivia, you're imagining things," I told myself firmly. "You're normal. You're just a normal girl."
But when I looked back at the mirror and saw that timid reflection—small… scared… unsure—I knew I was lying.
I was like the mirror; Cracked.
Broken, split down the middle.
And tonight… the crack felt deeper.
Today wasn't just Hailey's birthday.
It was mine, too.
But of course, no one remembered.
Or if they did, no one cared enough to say anything.
I walked through the long halls with my head lowered, balancing a tray of sparkling drinks. The music boomed, conversations hummed, and glittering gowns rustled around me.
But not a single guest looked at me.
Not one person noticed me pass.
I was a shadow gliding through a world made of light invisible, forgettable.
And yet… the voice inside me whispered again—closer this time, almost urgent.
"The birthday girl has arrived. Please welcome Miss Hailey Miller to the banquet," Timothy the butler announced.
Every head turned as a stunning figure in a white evening ball gown descended the staircase with the elegance of a princess born, not made. Hailey floated down each step as though the world itself was her runway. Her dress was the latest couture collection, paired with new-release Louis Vuitton heels and matching purse.
But what caught everyone's eye—what made whispers spread through the room—was the necklace at her throat: a bright emerald pendant, radiant and flawless.
My mother's necklace, worn on her wedding day.
Now claimed by someone who wasn't even blood to her.
Hailey walked straight to Ophelia—her mother—who waited below with a proud smile. Beside them, her entourage—Sasha, Tasha, and Bianca—mingled effortlessly with the wealthy and powerful, accepting every compliment, every gift, every "Happy Sweet Sixteen!" with delight.
She wouldn't even know how much I longed to hear someone say that to me.
Just once.
Just from anyone.
A Shift in the Air
The atmosphere changed in an instant—an invisible pressure rolled through the hall like a dark wind. Conversations faltered mid-sentence. Laughter died. Bodies stiffened. Guests straightened their clothes, lifted their chins, and forced perfect smiles.
Something powerful was approaching.
Then—
The doors burst open.
A squad of guards marched in, dressed in black uniforms stamped with a silver wolf crest. Their presence alone silenced the room.
Behind them entered a tall, broad-shouldered man with eyes as black as obsidian and an aura so commanding the air itself seemed to kneel.
Alpha King Draven.
Gasps scattered across the hall like sparks.
"The Alpha King… here?"
"He never leaves the capital—why tonight?"
"What business does he have at a human banquet?"
Ophelia scrambled forward, dropping into a deep curtsy so low her forehead nearly brushed the marble.
"My King… we are honored—"
Draven didn't even acknowledge her. His gaze swept across the hall like a predator seeking something—or someone. Everyone lowered their heads in fear.
Then came the figure behind him.
Prince Reiden Wolf.
Regal, cold, breathtaking.
Dressed in black and silver, with tousled midnight hair and crimson eyes that glowed faintly beneath the chandelier lights. The very air seemed to bend around him.
People stared at him with awe… but he didn't return their admiration.
His steps slowed.
His head turned.
And his eyes locked onto me.
My breath caught. The tray slipped in my hands, a glass nearly tipping over. A strange pulse fluttered in my chest—warm and ancient, like something buried deep inside me recognized him.
I tore my gaze away immediately.
I wasn't allowed to be seen.
I didn't want to be seen.
But I could feel his stare.
Following.
Measuring.
Calling.
I panicked "Why were they looking at me? I was nobody. Invisible. Forgettable.
So why… why did it feel like they could see straight into my soul?"
Ophelia saw it too—her face drained of color.
Ophelia saw it too—her face drained of all color. Throughout the entire banquet, I could feel it: the eyes of Raiden Wolf… Cole Wolf… their father, King Draven… and his silent envoy. Cole's gaze was warm. The Alpha King's was not. The air around Draven felt heavy—dangerous. Every breath near him tasted like warning. I wanted my silence back. My shadows. My invisibility.
But then—Cole walked toward me.
Ignoring every stunned, horrified stare, he approached as if nothing else existed. His warm smile, gentle and effortless, made the tension in my chest melt.
"Miss Olivia?" he said softly.
He took my hand—my hand—and placed the faintest kiss on it. When he looked up, the chandelier light caught in his green eyes, making them shimmer like emeralds. A piece of his slightly messy brown, shoulder-length hair fell into his face, and when he pushed it back with that soft smile… he looked unreal. Not handsome. Not charming. Unreal.
My heart skipped painfully. So this is how Hailey feels when she sees him.
"Miss Olivia… later, let's dance," he whispered.
I froze, speechless, entirely undone. Behind him, Orphella, Hailey, Sasha, Tasha, and Beyanca stared at me with the sharpness of knives.