Lila was left trembling violently, gasping for air, the pillar the only thing keeping her upright. She looked around, her eyes wide and scanning the crowd. No one else seemed to have noticed the anomaly. No one else had reacted.
He's here, she realized with bone-deep certainty. The True Blood Alpha. The villain who kills me is in this room.
The romantic dance, the beautiful hall, Harry and Rose—all faded into irrelevance. All that mattered was the icy threat she had just felt. She had hours, maybe minutes, before the plot—and her killer—found her.
Lila, gripping the cold stone pillar, frantically scanned the crowd, trying to pinpoint the source of that crushing, dominant aura. The scent, though vanished, had left the raw, metallic taste of terror in her mouth, and her Omega body was still shivering. She saw nothing unusual. No one was reacting. The True Blood Alpha, the physical manifestation of her death sentence, was too powerful, too subtle, to be identified by a panicked Omega from a corner.
I have to go.
"I should probably go back to my dorm room," she whispered to herself. That is what an intelligent person does if they sense anything unusual. I am not going to stay here and create trouble for myself like every character in every single horror story. They seek out the danger; I will flee the danger.
Her fear overrode her desire to find answers. Survival dictated retreat. She pushed off the pillar and walked directly back toward the section where her parents were chatting with other high-ranking Alphas, keeping her head low and her gaze fixed firmly on the intricate patterns of the carpet. She avoided looking at anyone, determined not to catch another eye—especially not Harry Westwell's—which would undoubtedly lead to more plot entanglement. No talking, no bumping, no making eye contact.
She reached her parents' side, interrupting a conversation about trade tariffs and pack territories.
"Baby, where were you?" Hannah Blackwood, Lila's mother, asked immediately, her face etched with residual worry from the morning's incident. "Are you feeling better now?"
"Mom, I'm perfectly fine," Lila assured her, forcing a smile that felt tight but seemed convincing. "But... I was wondering if I could go back to my room?"
Her father, John Blackwood, raised a heavy eyebrow. "Why? What happened?"
Lila scrambled for a plausible excuse, leaning into the fragile "good temper" persona she'd just accidentally established. "It's just... mm... I'm feeling... feeling sleepy, Mom. It was a long journey, and with the Academy starting tomorrow, I think I should rest and be at my best."
The couple exchanged a look of pure, bewildered delight. Lila Blackwood—requesting to leave a high-society event early to rest for school? This was unheard of.
"Oh, of course, baby," Hannah said, softening immediately. "Go and rest. Mom and Dad will return later tonight, after the council meeting part of the festival is over. You take care of yourself, and… and if anything, anything at all happens, you immediately inform us, okay?"
"Okay, Mom, I will. You two also take care," Lila replied, feeling a small, guilty surge of satisfaction as she saw the genuine pride in her father's eyes. I think I just earned myself a few extra life points by being polite.
She quickly excused herself again, accompanied by her personal maid, Anna, a nervous woman who seemed utterly relieved to be retreating from the overwhelming Alpha energy of the main hall.
Back in the Omega dorm room, Anna efficiently helped Lila change out of the massive wine-red gown and into a soft, baby-pink silk nightdress. Lila was still deeply uncomfortable with the intimacy of the service. I'm not used to this. In my old life, if someone tried to touch my clothes, they'd get elbowed. She felt a genuine wave of embarrassment as Anna folded the dress and curtseyed before departing to the servant quarters.
Finally alone, Lila collapsed onto the plush, queen-sized bed. The blankets were, predictably, baby pink, and the sheets were pristine white. Apparently, the villainess had excellent taste in linens, if not in life choices. Ava was not complaining; the excessive softness of her surroundings was the only thing preventing a complete mental breakdown.
She tried to sleep, repeating the mantra: Think about nothing. Think about nothing.
But her mind immediately reverted to the festival.
That feeling.
It wasn't an illusion. It was too strong, too real. It was a tangible pressure, a force of nature. As an Omega, that aura was too much for her to bear. The physical reaction—the momentary lightheadedness, the involuntary instinct to submit—was terrifying. If that was just the presence of the villain, how would she ever survive a direct confrontation?
"God, what should I do?" she muttered, clutching the luxurious comforter to her chin. "Tomorrow, the classes start. And the survival game begins."
Worry and exhaustion finally wrestled her into an uneasy sleep, filled with vague dreams of shadowy figures and overpowering pheromones.
The next morning, Anna woke Lila with soft, persistent taps on the door. Lila, still very much Ava inside, was too lazy and comfortable to wake up.
Five more minutes. My old body needs this rest. Villainesses don't have to be morning people, do they?
Anna, clearly feeling awkward about the young miss's unusual behavior but too scared of her rumored temper to question it, helped her up.
The Omega Academy uniform was simple but impeccably tailored: a pleated skirt, a crisp white blouse, and a soft gray blazer embroidered subtly with the Blackwood crest. It felt restrictive, nothing like her old baggy clothes.
As Anna meticulously tied her silk bow tie and brushed her hair smooth, Lila stared at her stunning reflection. She was beautiful, dressed for dominance, and completely terrified.
She took a deep breath, trying to summon the arrogance of the original Lila. I can do this. This is just a piece of cake for me… even if it isn't, I don't care. I CAN DO THIS.
The mental motivation fight was visible on her face. Her expressions cycled wildly—a sneer of false arrogance, followed by a twitch of panic, and finally, a mask of cold determination. Anna, who watched this silent facial battle, shrank back, completely convinced she had done something wrong to anger her young miss.
With a final, decisive mental nod, Lila took a deep breath and opened the door. It was time for the Academy. She stepped out, Anna trailing nervously behind her, ready to join the stream of young misses from other prestigious families. The survival game had just received its official start time.