Ava’s POV
I hesitated for a second, then simply let out my name, light and flat: “I’m Ava.”
“Ava?” Vivian frowned, clearly digging through every name she knew and coming up empty.
Her stare turned even more dismissive.
“Which pack are you from? Or wait…”
She dragged out her voice, eyes widening in fake realization.
“Don’t tell me you’re some Alpha’s secret mistress? Wow. Omegas these days really have no shame.”
Her tone wasn’t loud, but definitely loud enough.
A few suppressed snickers rippled around me.
The looks thrown my way shifted instantly, from earlier surprise to open disdain and hungry curiosity, like they were waiting for a scandal to explode.
My hand tightened around my clutch before I even noticed.
Right then, a stir rose from the entrance.
Damon walked in with Sylvia’s hand in his.
He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, tall and sharp, every bit the radiant Darkmoon Alpha everyone worshipped.
And next to him, Sylvia glowed in a champagne dress, smiling with smug confidence as she clung to his arm like she already owned the place.
My gaze, completely out of my control, landed on their intertwined hands.
My chest seized, like an invisible fist had clamped around my heart, and that too-familiar sting spread right through me.
Damon saw me almost immediately.
The second our eyes met, his expression froze.
Shock, anger, and something else, something tangled that I couldn’t quite name, flashed across his face.
He dropped Sylvia’s hand and strode straight toward me, his handsome face darkening like a storm rolling in.
“Ava! Why the hell are you here?!” he snapped, low but furious.
Vivian lit up like she’d been waiting for exactly this kind of drama.
Watching us with obvious delight, she chimed in, “Oh? Alpha Damon, you know her? And what exactly is she to you?”
My eyes slid past Damon’s furious stare and landed on Sylvia a few steps behind him, her expression twisted with spite.
Then I slowly lifted my head and met Damon’s burning gaze, smiled at him, even.
In a light, almost teasing tone, I asked, “Sir, what do you think we are?”
Damon’s face went completely dark.
He probably never imagined that the girl who always obeyed him without a word would dare talk back, especially like this, especially here.
“You. Come with me.” His grip clamped onto my wrist, harsh and unyielding, and he practically dragged me out of sight, pulling me into a quiet corner away from everyone’s eyes.
“Ava! What are you trying to pull?!” He pinned me against the cold wall, his eyes blazing.
“Didn’t you say you were going to meet a client? Then why are you here?!”
Not far behind him, Vivian was standing with Sylvia, both of them watching us like they were enjoying some cheap drama.
“Oh my god, your name’s Sylvia? You’re Damon’s Luna, right? Look, look. Alpha Damon really seems to know that Omega.” Vivian covered her mouth dramatically.
“Don’t tell me she’s actually Damon’s secret side chick?”
Sylvia’s face went stiff, her jaw tight.
“I don’t know.
I’m just the Alpha’s newly hired tutor.”
“Ohhh, a tutor…” Vivian dragged out the words, her eyes full of contempt, like she’d just stepped on something nasty.
Right then, an elderly man in a perfectly tailored suit stepped through the crowd and walked straight toward our corner.
He nodded politely at Damon before turning to me and giving a respectful bow.
“Ms. Crawford, do you need assistance?”
It was Oswald.
Damon’s pupils shrank to pinpricks.
Vivian and Sylvia both caught sight of the scene, and their expressions went from smug to absolutely stunned.
“Oh my god…” Vivian’s jaw practically hit the floor.
“That man… isn’t he Oswald, the steward of the Bloodmoon Pack? So this Omega named Ava, don’t tell me Oswald is her financial backer?”
What a ridiculous guess.
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes.
I shook my head lightly.
“Thank you, Oswald. I’m fine.”
I couldn’t expose anything about Adrian and me.
Not yet.
My divorce papers still needed twenty-five days before they became official.
Until then, I had zero intention of causing extra trouble.
Oswald gave a knowing nod, didn’t ask any more questions, and turned to leave.
“Explain.” Damon squeezed the word out between his teeth.
He stared straight into my eyes like he wanted to peel me open.
“You and Oswald…
and the Bloodmoon Pack, what’s the truth?
And don’t give me that ‘business’ nonsense again!”
“I never lied to you.” I met his gaze calmly.
“I really came here for the pack’s business. If you’re going to keep doubting me, if you refuse to trust me, I can leave right now. From today on, don’t you dare bring me any of your company affairs again.”
My threat worked, again.
Damon’s expression shifted several times, anger and reason fighting behind his eyes.
In the end, logic won.
He released his grip on my arm, though his stare stayed sharp.
“Fine. I believe you.” He forced the words out, then glanced at the glittering gown I was wearing.
“But why are you dressed like this? Who exactly are you trying to impress? Did you have to look this good?”
His tone was sour, jealousy and possessiveness dripping from every word.
He was always like this, overbearing, unreasonable.
He could cheat, he could stop loving me, but somehow I wasn’t allowed to even look at another man.
In his world, I was nothing but his possession, something he could grab when he felt like it and toss away the moment he got bored.
“I’m your Luna, the face of the entire Darkmoon Pack,” I shot back, my voice icy.
“Or do you actually prefer me walking around in my everyday maid uniform so you can lose more face?”
He froze, completely choked by my words.
Just then, Sylvia sashayed over, hips swaying like she was on some invisible catwalk.
She slid her arm around Damon’s, her voice sweet and delicate but full of scheming.
“Damon…
I’m not feeling well.
It’s so stuffy in here.
Can we go outside for a bit?
I need some air.”
And while speaking, she flicked me a look so provocative it practically screamed “come fight me.”
Damon glanced at her, then at me.
I curved my lips in a mocking smile.
“Go ahead. Take good care of your little home tutor. She’s obviously not used to these big, scary social events.”
Sylvia’s face darkened instantly, like someone slapped soot all over it.
Damon’s brows knitted together so tight it looked painful.
He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but in the end, nothing came out.
He just gave me a long, unreadable look, then guided Sylvia away with an arm around her.
I watched them leave, step by step, their silhouettes merging into the crowd, yet I felt nothing, not even a pinch of hurt.
I smoothed down my dress, turned around, and headed for the restroom.
After fixing my makeup, I walked back into the hall.
The moment I stepped through the doors, I felt it.
The entire vibe had flipped.
Everyone was looking toward the center of the room, where a crowd had gathered, all circling around a woman like she was the main character of some grand scene.
She was stunning, golden hair curled into glossy waves, a luxury white feather gown that practically screamed money, pearls and gemstones catching the chandelier’s light like little stars.
Her smile was polite but proud, every gesture oozing the kind of elegance only someone raised like a princess could carry.
But what pulled my gaze in, what punched the air out of my chest, was the ring on her right hand.
That totem.
I knew it.
“…I can’t believe it!
The legendary heiress of the Crawford Pack actually showed up!”
“Seriously!
There isn’t even a single photo of her online.
Their secrecy game is insane.”
“They say she’s not only Crawford’s sole successor…
her fiance is that guy from the West Coast.
Adrian Thorne!”
“Oh my god!
If those two packs join forces through marriage, they’d be unstoppable!”
The whispers crashed into me like waves.
Crawford’s heiress?
Adrian’s fiancee?
I stood there, completely still, my mind wiped blank.
That woman…
claimed to be Crawford’s inheritor?
Then what was I?