Tonight is Nyssara’s turning of age ceremony. Of course, I wasn’t invited. Or rather, my family never planned on letting me be there.

This just gives me more time to train in the family gym. If there’s one thing I don’t slack on, it’s building muscle.

I may not be the strongest Lycan out there-maybe not even average-but if I don’t at least look tough, even the cowards who mock me behind my back might start being more open about it, doing it to my face to feel good about themselves.

They only stay quiet because of my family’s name. If that ever stops being enough… well, I’d rather not know.

As I pass the hallways leading to the gym, the judgmental stares from the household helpers threatens to disrupt my peace.

I never understood why it still bothered me. After all these years, I should be numb to it.

But something inside me-something raw like a raging force-keeps clawing at my insides, begging to tear their eyes out, to remind them they’re beneath me.

And maybe I would’ve, if I could get away with mass murder.

We’d definitely be the talk of the town then.

I muse on the thought and shake my head.

“Mark.”

I call out to our family’s butler. He’s never respected me, but at least he’s never spoken ill–or given me that condescending stare I see everywhere else.

“Young Master.”

He appears before me with surprising grace. For an elderly man, he moves like a shadow.

I'm heading to the gym, I would prefer to rest before dinner.

"Yes", he's about moving when I recall something.

"Also, the heater in my room isn't working, have someone fix it, preferably before I'm done with the gym. It's not exactly pleasing bathing with ice water"

"Of course", he replies calmly, it isn't the first time we've had this conversation, it seems my siblings have found a different way to torment me.

I push the thought aside, stepping into the gym where solitude welcomes me refreshingly.

Nyssara

The ballroom sparkled–a myriad of silk and gold beneath chandeliers. Music loud and orchestral, echoing through the high arches of the palace that belonged to my family by blood and dominance. I stood at the center of it all, dressed in silver like the moon herself, yet I had never felt suffocation like I did now.

Tonight was supposed to be mine. My Turning of Age. A celebration of legacy, lineage, and the power that ran through my veins. But all I could feel was the weight several expectations sewn into my gown.

Dancers twirled around me–alphas from noble lines, betas with ambition gleaming in their eyes, and omegas like me who hadn't yet realized they were being given like trophies in a game of power to the highest bidder.

I stood beside my mother. We were one of the Five Great Families. Her hand rested gently on my back, an elegant pressure that said, 'Smile Nyssara'. Be what they expect you to be. Her eyes never left the crowd. Always searching. Always calculating.

I smiled–it was etched into me.

My father raised his goblet, beginning the ceremonial toast, but his words faded into the hum of my own thoughts. From somewhere in the sea of people, I caught a pair of eyes watching me like I was something distant.

Another suitor.

Of course.

Powerful omegas are rare, and I am the rarest of them all. My lineage is so thick with dominance and power, my scent alone could bend lesser wolves to their knees. Some of these alphas would sell their souls to mark me. Breed me. Bind me.

I stepped down before the toast ended.

“Nyssara,” my mother hissed behind her smile.

“I just need air,” I whispered back, already moving. She didn’t stop me. Not here. Not tonight.

I slipped past the guards with a single nod. Let them whisper. Let them call it arrogance. I couldn’t breathe in there.

The gardens were soaked in moonlight. Trees gently swaying in the wind like they, too, were tired of standing tall. The air was cool against my skin, and the music from the ball was only a faint murmur now. I exhaled, finally letting go of the tightness in my chest.It seems I had gone too far.

At first, I thought he was just a shadow–tall, still, nearly hidden beneath the trees.

His scent reached me before his eyes did. Earthy. Male. Suppressed.

It wasn’t the scent of power. Not like my cousins. Not like the alpha suitors inside. It was... quieter. Caged. Ancient.

I tilted my head. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

He turned slowly,with surprise and caution.

“Neither are you,” he replied, voice low and steady.

My lips curled slightly. “Touché.”

He didn’t bow. He didn’t avert his eyes like most males did when they realized who I was. He simply stood there,chin high–but not in challenge. In quiet resistance.

It intrigued me.

“You’re from the House of Varkai aren’t you?” I asked, stepping closer. “The youngest.”

His jaw tightened. “Rhyven.”

“Rhyven.” I tested the name on my tongue like a secret. “You train late.”

“I prefer when no one’s watching.”

I laughed–soft, genuine, “Same.”

He shifted, and only then did I notice the faint sweat across his collarbone, the way his knuckles were stained with blood. He’d been hitting something hard.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked.

I gestured back toward the mansion “Celebrating my turning of age. With a room full of men who want to breed me and women who want to see me fail.”

His brow arched, humor in his eyes. “Sounds... festive.”

“You have no idea.”

We stood in silence for a moment. The wind scattered petals from a nearby tree. I looked at him more closely now. Something about his posture–it wasn’t wrong exactly, but off. Like he was moving against himself.

And then it clicked.

“Your body is fighting your training,” I said suddenly.

His eyes flicked to me, “What?”

“Your constitution. You’re pushing it in the wrong direction. You're using high-pressure strength conditioning, pure alpha based techniques. It doesn’t align with your nature.”

He stared at me. No one had probably ever said something like that to him. Definitely not from the Great Houses.

“You're not built like them,” I continued, softer now. “But that doesn’t mean you’re weak. You're built... differently.”

His voice came low, almost bitter. “Everyone keeps telling me I’m a defective alpha.”

“Maybe you’re not defective,” I said, “just... misread.”

He swallowed hard. The moonlight caught in his eyes, and for a moment, he looked more wolf than human. I wondered how long he’d carried that shame, how deep it had rooted inside him. Then I wondered why I cared.

“I should go,” I said, turning. “They’ll come looking soon.”

“Wait.” His voice halted me.

I turned, one brow raised.

He hesitated. “If you know another way, one that works with my body... could you show me?”

I studied him. Not a trace of arrogance in his face. Just sincerity, and something else beneath it.

“I might,” I said.

And with that, I left him standing there in the moonlight, staring at me like he’d seen something precious for the first time.

Nyssara

Shit. Almost midnight.

I stared at the massive clock hung over the far wall, as if mocking me, the ticking was louder now that I noticed it.

I should’ve left earlier. Should’ve let the guards handle him instead of stepping in myself.

But I didn’t. I couldn't. Something about him, Rhyven, had unsettled me in a way I hadn’t expected. Not in fear. In recognition. His power attracted me. It was... dormant. Knotted in on itself. Like a chord plucked out of tune.

He doesn’t even know who he is.

That thought should’ve stayed on the surface. It didn’t. It dug in and refused to leave.

Rhyven

"So an average car outruns me now."

I gave a humorless chuckle as I made my way up the stone path toward the mansion’s side entrance. My towel hung carelessly over one shoulder, a dry excuse for having gone out to train again. I wasn’t supposed to. But no one in this house ever asked me what I was supposed to do. They’d already decided who I was.

Weak. A mistake. An embarrassment.

Alphas were born strong. So if I wasn’t strong… why had the seers labeled me an Alpha?

“Welcome,” came Erivan’s ludicrous voice before I’d even stepped inside.

He was already deep in conversation with Levi, his back turned, voice loud, acting extra.

“I hope you enjoyed your night,” I said casually, stepping through. “If you’re all good, I’m going to get some rest. It’s been exhausting.”

I offered a lazy half-smile, hoping they’d take the hint and let me disappear.

“Yes, yes, Rhyv,” Erivan waved a hand dismissively.

Too engrossed to be bothered.

“Anyway, I’m telling you, she was mesmerized by me. The way she looked at me, the way she bit her lip, it was enticing.”

I paused on the steps.

Levi’s reply came dry and sharp. “She has a dozen suitors, Erivan. She glanced at you, and your delusional mind spun it into a love confession.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” Erivan huffed. “I’m strong, rich, politically powerful. I’m every woman’s dream.”

Levi scoffed. “If you changed your circle, you'd find there are lots of men with better 'credentials'. "

I should’ve kept walking. I usually did when the room filled with this much ego. But something rooted me in place. Maybe it was the name they hadn’t said yet. Maybe it was the knot in my chest that hadn’t loosened since the garden.

I stood silently, arms crossed, until Levi noticed me.

“Didn’t you say you were going to bed?”

“Your voice energizes me, dear cousin,” I answered smoothly.

Levi visibly flinched. Worth it.

I tilted my head. “So? Who’s the unfortunate soul Erivan thinks fancies him?”

“I met someone who fancied me,” Erivan corrected, smug. “The Lady of Aurellian. Nyssara.”

Silence.

Levi and I shared a glance.

I forced a nod. “Then I wish you luck.”

I turned for the stairs, but the little calm I’d built while training cracked. Something about hearing her name in his mouth felt... wrong.

“You should know not to give me hope, Nyssara,” I muttered under my breath.

Not that she had. She hadn’t flirted. Hadn’t smiled coyly or batted her lashes. She’d simply told the truth. About my power. My body. My training.

And somehow, in just a few words, she’d seen through years of lies I’d told myself.

Later that night, I sat on the edge of my bed.

The heater still hadn’t been fixed, probably my siblings’ idea of a joke, but I barely noticed the cold. My mind kept returning to her voice. Her words.

Giving it different wordings to better understand it.

“The way you're training, it’s fighting against you, not building you.”

“Your body doesn't respond to brute force. It’s seeking something else.”

What the hell did she mean by that?

I remembered something Levi said once, talking about her behind closed doors.

"I wouldn’t call her a seer. Not really. She doesn’t see the future—she sees through illusions. Through lies. Through people.”

Erivan had laughed and added, "It’s like her parents knew. They named her Nyssara. 'One who sees.'”

It looped in my head, a quiet hum that wouldn’t fade. She’d spoken like she’d seen others like me. Helped them. Guided them.

But no one was like me.

I was the forgotten Alpha.

Still... something shifted in me tonight. A promise.

Tomorrow, things will be different.

The next day, I set out through the winding streets of Reign City with one thought in mind: I needed to see her again.

I didn’t know how I’d explain myself, or if she’d even want to see me. I just knew I needed answers.

I was walking toward her estate when I spotted her.

She wore a flowing blue dress that seemed like it belonged to the sky. Beside her was a man I vaguely recognized, her cousin, I thought. He was looking at her the way men do when they wish they were more than friends, or in this case 'family'.

I wasn't sure how her family would respond to that, regardless of the fact they were distant cousins. So distant it didn't matter, he wasn't even an Alpha.

I stayed at a distance, keeping to the edges of the street.

' Not stalking, just watching.' I told myself repeatedly.

They moved toward a grand old building tucked between shops and towers. A library. Its stone facade was ancient, and the heavy doors opened like a secret told only to those worthy enough to enter.

I followed them inside.

She didn’t notice me. Or if she did, she made no sign. Her attention was on the shelves, her cousin, the books.

She stopped in front of a section lined with old volumes bound in worn out leather. Her fingers trailed along the spines, slow and reverent. Then she pulled one. Its cover bore symbols I didn’t recognize.

As she flipped through its yellowed pages, her eyes lit with something almost like.. reverence.

I stood still, tucked behind a shelf, watching. I didn’t know why I stayed. I just did.

Her cousin said something. She laughed. I hadn’t heard that sound before, from her or anyone else like her. It was sharp and light and real.

My eyes drifted over the books surrounding us. I’d always hated them. Especially the ones about power, lineage, magic. Most were lies dressed as knowledge. Stories told by wolves who needed myths to delude their weakness.

Like how Omegas were at the bottom of the chain. Or how there could only ever be one Alpha. And yet... here I was.

Maybe the books were wrong. Or maybe I was just unfinished.

I looked at her again.

Her eyes darted towards me and, just for a second, met mine.

I froze. A single heartbeat. But then she looked away, back to her book, as if I hadn’t existed at all.

I exhaled slowly.

Maybe I imagined the connection.

Maybe I didn’t.

But I stayed a while longer anyway, surrounded by stories, secrets, and her.

Watching her brought a kind of stillness to me, a hush that silenced the noise constantly buzzing in my head. Nyssara moved with an effortless calm, trailing her fingers along the spines of ancient books like she was coaxing secrets from them. I’d never noticed it before, but now that I focused, I could make out a scent that lingered around her. Faint, almost hidden behind expensive perfumes. Rain. Not the kind that ruined plans or drenched you, but the fresh kind. The scent that came right after the weather had calmed down, clean, cool, and oddly comforting.

Then I heard it.

“Varkai’s youngest.”

I froze.

I had been noticed.

Abandoning the illusion of secrecy, I stepped forward from behind the shelf. “Rhyven,” I corrected, keeping my tone even as I met his gaze. “Fancy meeting you here, my lady.”

Nyssara’s cousin, Cole, I recalled, raised an eyebrow. “Hm. It seems like you came here for her, the way your eyes kept wandering around only to land on her again.”

He wasn’t wrong. But the way he said it wasn’t quite jealousy.

No, jealousy only came when someone thought their claim was threatened. What I heard in his voice was more... amusement, or irritation. Either way, he didn’t see me as competition.

I offered a small shrug. “Her beauty is alluring. I couldn’t keep my eyes off her the moment I saw her.”

He looked at me then, with something dangerously close to pity. That was, until Nyssara spoke.

“Hey Rhyven,” she said with a small, welcoming smile. “Didn’t expect to see you so quickly after last night.”

Cole's eyes widened like she’d just dropped a bomb. Which, in a way, she had. Everyone knew I didn’t attend social events. If I had spoken with someone in private the night before, people would assume all kinds of things.

I caught her eyes for a second, reading the hint of mischief there. She knew what she was doing.

“Same here,” I replied smoothly. “I came looking for the newest updates on some of my favorite novels.”

Her lips curled, amused. “Oh? Which novels do you read?”

“Action. Romance. Historical. Things like that.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. I just didn’t read them often.

She turned to Cole, batting her lashes. “He has the same preferences you have.”

He scoffed. “Name some of the novels, then.”

I blinked. Yep. Definitely a setup.

I cleared my throat. “I just read here and there. Don’t really keep the names in my head.”

Before he could press further, I added, “Honestly, I don’t read much. I was just bored today and decided to stop by.”

He didn’t believe me, that much was clear. But he let it go, probably assuming it wasn’t worth the effort.

Nyssara glanced at the clock hun above the reading archway. “It’s time we leave, Cole.”

Turning to me, she asked, “Would you like a ride, Rhyv?”

It wasn’t a question people typically asked me. She’d noticed I came alone. She’d noticed everything. I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or worried.

‘Rhyv.’ The way she said it was soft. Familiar. Nothing like the cold, condescending way my siblings said it.

“If you don’t mind,” I replied, “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“You’re not, Rhyv. You know that.”

No. I didn’t.

But maybe I wanted to.

The ride was quiet. Nyssara took the front seat beside the driver while I sat in the back with Cole. The occasional glance came my way from Cole. I tried not to read into it. Tried, and failed.

Finally, I broke the silence.

“Is there an issue?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

“Are you participating in the Annual Youth’s Competition?”

The answer was simple. No. I never had. Everyone knew why.

I was about to excuse myself when she turned slightly in her seat, voice calm but firm.

“Of course he will. Right?”

Something in her tone made the words feel less like a question and more like a statement. A promise. A challenge.

For a moment, I considered saying no. And then, I didn’t.

We didn’t speak after that. The silence returned but felt different this time.

When we reached the intersection between our homes, I spoke up. “I’ll get off here.”

They didn’t question it. We all knew how rumors liked to spread in our world.

I stepped out, thanking them quietly, and stood in the fading headlights as the car pulled away.

The night had grown colder, but my body felt warm. Refreshed. I took the longer path home, letting the silence sink in, letting her words echo.

Back at the mansion, I avoided the main hallway and slipped up the staircase unseen. My room was quiet, the walls still carrying the thin chill of the broken heater. I didn’t mind. Cold sharpened the senses.

Stripping off my jacket, I tossed it across the back of my chair. Then paused.

Something shifted.

I turned back and picked it up. A small black notebook had fallen from the inner pocket.

No title on the front, just worn leather. I opened the first page.

“Volume One.”

Flipping through, I found scribbled notes in a tidy, precise hand. Diagrams. Techniques. Explanations. The kind of training that matched the words she said in the garden.

“Your body doesn’t respond to brute force. It’s seeking something else.”

It was all here. Modified breathing techniques. Combat adjustments. Things I’d never seen in standard training manuals.

How…?

I reached the last page and froze.

There, written in smooth ink:

“From your tutor, N.”

Underneath it, a phone number.

I stared at it.

She hadn’t just noticed me. She planned for this. Prepared it. Slipped it into my jacket without me ever realizing.

Why?

And how did she already know what I’d need?

My fingers tightened around the book. Whatever this was, however it came to me, this was no accident.

This was a beginning.