Olivia's POV
The night had broken with the sound of rain. Heavy, violent rain, drumming endlessly against rooftops, rushing through the gutters, drowning the streets in a flood of silver.
Olivia lay awake in her bed, the rhythm pounding through her ears. Every so often, a droplet struck her cheek where the roof leaked, pulling her further from the rest she longed for. At first she tried to ignore it, but the more it came, the more anger stirred in her chest.
With a grunt, she rose. Her mother slept soundly beside her, curled beneath a thin blanket, her breathing soft and steady for once.
Olivia crossed the small room and reached for an old wooden box tucked beneath the table. Inside lay relics of a life she barely remembered—scraps of fabric, little trinkets, a single faded picture. She lifted it carefully, brushing the edges with her fingers.
It was her and her father. She must have been ten, wearing a simple but beautiful dress of pale blue and cream. The smile on her younger self's face glowed with innocence, untouched by betrayal, untouched by the cruelty of this world.
Her chest tightened. For the first time in weeks, she felt a spark of joy.
Her eyes drifted to the folded cloth piled in the corner. Her hands itched. She could make that dress again. A bigger one, one for who she was now.
So, in the quiet storm of the night, Olivia began to work. Needle and thread, stitch by stitch, her hands moved with a rhythm as steady as the rain. She poured every memory, every ache, every longing into the fabric. Hours passed. The storm raged. And still she worked, until finally, when the rain began to ease and dawn crept across the sky, she had remade her dress.
Only then did sleep take her, pulling her under like the tide.
---
Her mother rose early, moving about the small house with careful steps. She cleaned, swept, cooked, all in silence. She did not wake Olivia. Her daughter needed rest—gods knew she had suffered enough.
But by mid-morning, she touched Olivia's shoulder. "Wake, my love. It's time for work."
Olivia groaned, turning her face into the pillow. "Let's skip today. I'm tired."
Her mother hesitated, then smiled faintly. "Alright. They will understand."
But fate had no intention of letting them rest.
A sharp, thunderous knock rattled their door.
Both women froze.
"Who is that?" Olivia mumbled, still half-asleep.
Her mother hurried to the door. She opened it carefully—then nearly stumbled back.
The Alpha's personal guards stood there, tall and grim in their black uniforms, swords strapped to their belts, their expressions like carved stone.
"The Alpha demands your presence," one said coldly. "Both you, and your daughter."
Her mother's heart dropped. Olivia felt it too, a heavy thud in her chest. For a heartbeat, fear clawed at her. What did we do now?
But then a thought flickered across her mind like lightning. Could it be… Father? Are they releasing him?
The idea filled her with sudden courage. She rose, splashed water on her face, brushed out her hair, and put on the dress she had sewn through the night.
When she stood before the mirror, she barely recognized herself.
The fabric clung perfectly to her form, highlighting her slender waist, her graceful shoulders. Her skin glowed with a golden shimmer, flawless, radiant, unlike any omega she had ever seen. She was slimmer than before, her figure shaped like a goddess sculpted from moonlight.
Even her mother gasped.
"Olivia… you—" She stopped, her words trembling between pride and fear.
Because there were two things she could not understand:
Why was Olivia so confident all of a sudden?
And why, after all these years, had the Alpha finally summoned them?
The walk to the Palace felt endless. The guards escorted them with stiff formality, their boots splashing through puddles as the city's people whispered from shadows. Everyone stared. The omega girl in the glowing dress.
When they reached the Palace, Olivia stopped. The walls rose high above her, gleaming with banners and carvings of wolves mid-roar. She took a deep breath. She was about to step into the lion's den.
Her mother squeezed her hand. "It will be alright."
The massive doors opened with a groan.
Inside stood a gathering that made Olivia's breath catch.
Leo. Levi.
Mal, in her finest gown, her face already twisted in jealousy.
Ava, silent, watchful as always.
Mal's parents, faces smug with arrogance.
The Queen, regal and stern.
A priest, draped in ceremonial robes.
And at the head, towering above them all, the Alpha himself.
His eyes glowed thick red as his voice filled the chamber.
"Welcome."
The word struck the air like thunder.
---
The silence was unbearable. Every eye in the hall turned to Olivia. She stood tall, her golden skin shimmering beneath the Palace light, her handmade dress glowing as though kissed by the gods themselves.
Whispers rose. Even the Queen tilted her head, studying her closely.
Mal's nails dug into her palms. Rage burned her cheeks. She could feel the triplets' eyes darting toward Olivia, not her.
Ava, however, only narrowed her gaze. Something about Olivia's presence stirred a strange unease in her heart.
Olivia's mother bowed deeply. "My Alpha… you summoned us."
"Yes," the Alpha said, his eyes piercing straight into Olivia's soul. "Step forward, child."
Olivia obeyed. Her heart raced, but her steps were steady.
The Alpha circled her slowly, inspecting her as one might inspect a weapon. His eyes lingered on her skin, her posture, her glow.
At last, he stopped in front of her. His voice dropped low. "You have changed."
Olivia lifted her chin. "Yes, Alpha."
The hall erupted with murmurs. No omega dared speak so boldly to the Alpha. But she did.
The Alpha's eyes narrowed, glowing brighter. Then, to everyone's shock, he chuckled—a low, dangerous sound.
"Good. You will need that fire."
Mal gasped. My lord, what is this? Why is she here? She is a traitor's daughter! She should not even be standing in this Palace!"
"Silence."
The Alpha's voice cut like a blade. Mal flinched, her face twisting with humiliation.
The alpha said to his guest with a soft voice , well have a sit , we have a lot to talk about