"What did you just say?" Silas's voice dropped like a guillotine. He stepped from behind Elara, his presence expanding until he seemed to eclipse the very light in the room. The sheer intensity of his gaze was a physical blow, yet Greene, blinded by his own delusion, didn't flinch.

"Who are you having the audacity to talk to like that?" Silas asked, his voice vibrating with a fury that made the nearest guests take a collective step back.

"And who are you to speak to me like that?" Greene challenged, his chest puffed out. He sneered, looking Silas up and down with a dismissive grunt. "Are you the one who smuggled her into this place?" He scoffed, gesturing vaguely at Elara's gown. "Were you also invited? You don't look like an Alpha to me, more like a Beta feeding on suppressants."

Silas took another step forward, his shadow looming over Greene. "What did you just say?"

"I'm with the President's daughter!" Greene boasted, throwing an arm around Beatrice's waist. "You don't want to be thrown out of here. I can have you sacked with one word to her father!"

Beatrice, however, had gone deathly pale. Her eyes were fixed on Silas, and her expression shifted from smugness to pure, unadulterated terror. She recognized him. Everyone in the inner circle knew the 'Beast of the Presidential Guard.' She began to shrink back, her voice a frantic whisper. "Greene... lower your voice."

"Lower my voice? I'm not going to lower my voice! Speaking to me like this when you're here with me? I'm going to have him dealt with!"

"Greene, stop raising your voice..." Beatrice pleaded, her hand shaking as she tried to detach herself from his side.

The murmurs from the crowd grew sharper, biting into the silence.

"Who's that guy speaking arrogantly to Alpha Vance?"

"He must have a death wish. Who gave him an invitation? Ordinary Alphas of low rank are suddenly allowed into spaces like this?"

"And he's so brazenly pointing at Silas... that beast no one dares look at twice. He's cooked."

Greene ignored them all, looking at Beatrice with confusion. "Why are you scared? Do they intimidate you? Look at me, I'm this woman's ex-husband. You know who she is already. She's nothing!"

"You're Alpha Vance's ex-husband?"

The voice that cut through the air was like cold steel sliding over silk. The entire room pivoted. The crowd parted like the Red Sea as a man walked through, his every step echoing with the weight of absolute authority.

It was Calvin.

Elara's breath hitched as she looked at him. Twelve years had transformed the boy who helped her scale the wall into a titan. He was massive, his physique honed by a decade of military command, his shoulders broad enough to carry the weight of the nation. His hair was dark and swept back, framing a face that was strikingly handsome but carved from granite. His eyes, a piercing, predatory grey, locked onto hers for a fraction of a second, a soft, knowing smile ghosting his lips, before they turned back into ice as he looked at Greene.

"Calvin is here," someone whispered. "That mentally deranged man is as good as dead."

"You said you were Alpha Vance's ex-husband?" Calvin repeated, stopping mere inches from Greene. Silas stepped aside, yielding the floor to the man who had been groomed to be Elara's mate.

Greene's smile died a little. He looked at Elara, then at Calvin, then back at Elara. A flicker of doubt finally crossed his face, but his arrogance was a hard habit to break. "I don't know about an 'Alpha Vance,' but I know I'm this woman's ex-husband," he replied, pointing a finger at Elara.

Calvin's jaw tightened. "Stop embarrassing her by saying you're Alpha Vance's ex-husband. You could be jailed for such a claim."

"Jailed for what? Beatrice, can you hear what they're saying?" Greene turned to the girl, but Beatrice was already three steps away, her face a mask of sweating panic.

"You're supposed to keep quiet at this point, Greene," Elara said, her voice cutting through his panic like a scalpel. She turned her cold gaze to the girl. "Beatrice... you said you're the President's daughter?"

Beatrice looked like she wanted to melt into the floorboards. She couldn't even find her voice.

"Well, you know she is!" Greene snapped, letting go of Beatrice's hand to gesture toward the ballroom at large. "Go find your father, Beatrice. I would love to discuss our marriage proceedings with him right now."

"Marriage proceedings?" Elara asked while Greene nodded proudly, adjusted his lapels as if he already wore the crown.

"Yeah, marriage proceedings. To marry an Alpha, things like this always happen. You know, you don't just marry them off like Omegas who have no real marriage, they just stick with their Alphas that they're mated... why am I explaining all these to you like you actually understand."

Elara suddenly began to spread her pheromones as the anger in her began to set in. It wasn't just a scent; it was a tidal wave of pure, unadulterated power. A dizzying feeling enveloped everyone in a thirty-foot radius. The air grew heavy, thick with the metallic tang of a Dominant Alpha's rage. The only people not affected were the other apex predators, Calvin, her father, and a few other Dominant Alphas. Every other person in the room began to take wavering steps, clutching their heads as dizziness washed over them. His father flickered a gaze from where he stood to where she was, wondering what must've made her spread out her strong pheromones so angrily. 

"Who is this Alpha with such strong pheromones?" Greene asked, his voice cracking as he tried plucking his nose, his knees beginning to tremble under a weight he didn't comprehend.

Calvin turned to look at Elara. Of course, he had missed her strong pheromones for so long. The feel of it brought back memories of their childhood, the way they used to spar until the air itself felt like it would combust. He connected to her mind effortlessly, his voice echoing in her head via their old mind link.

"Seriously? This man is your ex-husband? He asked, his mental tone dripping with condescending disbelief. "You didn't want me as your mate so you could be with such a blabbermouth like this? What did he give to you to make you waste years with him?"

"Calvin, just shut up."

"I will shut up, but please stop spreading your pheromones everywhere. You're contaminating the party. There are some Omegas in this building, Elara. You won't know how to take care of them all if you break them into their heat cycles."

The warning snapped her back. She remembered someone, she turned around immediately to where Silas stood. He was shaking violently, his knuckles white as he gripped the back of a chair. He was trying so hard to maintain his composure, but the sweat soaking through his suit gave him away. Her pheromones were hitting him like a physical blow; even the strongest suppressants couldn't shield an Omega from a Dominant Alpha's direct, unbridled fury.

"Who is this Alpha with these pheromones? He should stop spreading it!" Greene yelled, his voice rising in a panicked pitch as the room began to spin for him.

Elara stepped closer toward him, her shadow looming large. "It's me. I'm the woman with those pheromones you're talking about."

"You?" He asked, a scoff forming on his lips, but the scoff died as she released them further. "You're an alpha?" 

The surge was too much. To everyone's absolute shock, Silas slumped to the floor immediately. The air was suddenly flooded with a new scent, something sweet, raw, and terrifyingly vulnerable. His own Omega pheromones were slipping out of him in a desperate, uncontrollable rush, stripped bare by Elara's presence. It was as if he had turned twelve again, caught in the terrifying onset of a gender he had spent a decade hiding.

Elara blinked, swallowing hard as the sweet scent hit her senses.

The scent hit her like a memory she had no permission to forget. It was sweet, soft, and dangerously familiar. Just like twelve years ago. 

Elara's breath caught as it wrapped around her senses, slipping past her control, settling deep in her chest like something ancient recognizing its own.

Silas.

Her gaze snapped fully to him, he was on the floor.

Not just fallen, broken.

His broad frame trembled violently, one hand gripping the chair leg so hard the wood creaked in protest. Sweat clung to his skin, his jaw locked tight as if he was fighting something feral clawing its way out of him.

And the scent, his scent was spilling. It was everywhere, uncontrolled, exposed, and vulnerable. 

A silence rippled through the room, heavy and suffocating. Everyone felt it, even those who didn't understand it. 

Elara moved instinctively, one step then another and the crowd parted without being told even further after the sudden crowd. Because something in her expression had changed, it wasn't about Greene anymore. 

This was something far more dangerous. "Silas." When she called his name, Calvin's attention snapped to Elara's face. 

That softness didn't belong to Elara. Not like this. He's trying to get the hang of Silas's sudden collapse but Elara's strange reaction to it was far worse. 

Silas's head snapped up at the sound of his name. Those stormy blue eyes, usually controlled and distant, were wrecked now.  It was raw and exposed. Burning with something that made her chest tighten in a way she didn't understand.

"Alpha..." he breathed, his voice rough, almost breaking.

The word did something to her, something deeper and behind her, Greene let out a disbelieving laugh. 

"Oh, so now the act changes?" he scoffed, though his voice lacked the same confidence as before. "What is this? Some performance to scare me? He's just weak, look at him!"

No one laughed and no one even agreed. Everyone seemed to be worried about the sudden melting of Silas to the floor.

And Greene... still didn't understand. Elara didn't even look at him.

"Silas," she said again, quieter this time, it was a command, a pull, and his body reacted instantly. 

His shoulders jerked, his grip tightening as a low, involuntary sound escaped him, something between a groan and a plea. The scent thickened, curling tighter around her like a chain.

He hates himself for this. This is why he hates himself so much but now, even that hate seems to be melting away as the seconds pass. 

Calvin's voice cut through the tension, sharp and controlled.

"Elara," Calvin called out like a warning, but she ignored him. 

"Look at me."

Silas did fully and in that moment, something clicked. Something that made the back of her neck prickle. Silas needed to get out of here as fast as possible. She tried to release more of her pheromones to mask Silas's scent while scanning for ways to smuggle him away without bringing attention to herself. 

"Guards!" Calvin quickly called and they appeared very quickly, "Help Silas, he doesn't seem to be okay at the moment. Take him to his room." 

"No one should touch him." Elara quickly whipped out without a second thought. 

All eyes came to her immediately, "I will deal with him myself." She said with a note of finality, even Calvin shouldn't dare question what she just said. 

Greene took a step back, just one and his eyes darted between them, then everyone, confusion finally cracking through his arrogance. And then, he panicked when he couldn't find Beatrice by his side anymore. 

Fear began to creep into him, "Where's Beatrice?" He asked, seeing himself suddenly feeling cold. It was becoming more real as the seconds passed especially when the guards took a step back on Elara's order. 

Greene staggered slightly, catching his balance on a nearby table. His breathing was uneven now, his eyes...wide, his fears growing stronger, slow, ugly, and real. 

"You..." he started, pointing at Elara with a shaking hand. "You're... you're the one?"

No one spoke, no one helped him because now...he was finally seeing it. Elara turned to him at last, and when her gaze landed on him, it wasn't the woman he had known, the Elle who scrubbed his floors or the one he hit at will to his own pleasure. 

It wasn't the quiet girl who bowed her head and whispered apologies. She was something else entirely and that made his panic work up higher. 

"Yes," she said simply, the word dropped like a verdict, like his doom was already sealed the moment he walked through that door. 

"I am."

Greene's mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. 

His mind struggled to catch up, to rearrange every memory he had of her into something that made sense.

"You're... the President's..." His voice cracked. "That means... that means..."

"That you threw the President's daughter out of your house," Calvin finished for him inaudibly since no one has to know where the president's daughter disappeared to for the past twelve years. 

Then he began to laugh, while Greene's face drained of colour. Beatrice hid deeper into the crowd, slowly finding herself shoving through wolves to get to her father. 

"No... no, that's not-she-she was-"

"Nothing?" Elara tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharpening. "Say it again."

He couldn't, he physically couldn't because now, he understood. The clothes, the silence, the obedience, the power he thought he had...it had never been his. 

It had been hers all along. 

"I..." His knees buckled slightly. "El-Alpha... I didn't know-"

"No," she cut in, her voice calm, "You didn't."

She took a step closer and he stepped back instinctively. 

"That's what makes it worse." The words landed softly. But they hit harder than anything she had said.

Behind her, Silas shifted, still on the floor, still watching her like she was the only one anchoring him to reality. 

Elara felt it again, that pull, that awareness and she furrowed, hating the way her alpha absorbed it without taking it back. 

"Guards." Her voice rang out, sharp and absolute, and two men stepped forward instantly.

Greene turned, panic fully setting in now.

"Elara, wait-please-listen to me-I didn't mean-"

"Strip him of his access," she said, not even looking at him. "Every privilege. Every title he thinks he has."

"Please! I can fix this-"

"And make sure," she added, her gaze finally flicking back to him, "he remembers exactly where he stands."

Greene dropped fully this time to his knees. Right there in front of everyone. 

"Elara, please! I didn't know! I swear I didn't know-"

She stared at him unmoved.

"You're right," she said quietly.

"You didn't know."

Her lips curved slightly not into a smile but for something colder. 

"And that ignorance cost you everything." She turned to the guards, and then lowered her stance to meet Greene's ears, "I spent ten years scrubbing your floors, Greene. Tonight and forever, you'll scrub mine."

"Please...Elle, for the sake of the beautiful..."

A slap left her hand directly on his face, and his face shifted, "Beautiful what?" She asked narrowing her gaze at her. "Remind me, what was ever beautiful about you?" 

"Take him away." 

The guards grabbed him and dragged him back as he shouted, begged, struggled, no one stepped in and no one spoke. Because the verdict had already been delivered and the room had accepted it. 

"That served him right, he was talking too much." Someone murmured from the crowd. 

"How could he insult Alpha Elara like that?" Another asked in a low tone. 

"But more importantly, what's the relationship between Elara and that man? What of Beatrice, she was here a while ago." 

"A lot is even happening because what is our almighty Silas doing on the floor?" 

"Where's Beatrice?" Elara asked, her gaze sweeping slowly across the crowd, sharp and searching. Her eyes didn't miss a single face. "Find her."

She didn't direct the order to anyone in particular, yet it carried enough authority that several guards and attendants immediately broke away, pushing through the guests.

Moments later, the sound came-

"Leave me alone! Let me go!!"

The protests grew louder, closer, until Beatrice was dragged forward and shoved roughly to the ground at Elara's feet.

A faint scoff slipped past Elara's lips as she looked down at her.

"You said you were what again?" she asked, her voice calm but cutting as she lowered herself slightly. Beatrice trembled under her gaze, panic written all over her face. "The President's daughter?"

"I-I didn't say that," Beatrice replied quickly, too quickly. Her voice shook as her eyes darted away, only to land on Silas, still on the floor, his body subtly writhing as he struggled to keep himself together.

Elara's eyes narrowed.

"What did you say?" she pressed, her tone dropping.

Before Beatrice could respond, a sharper, commanding wave of pheromones rolled in from behind. The crowd instinctively parted, creating a clear path.

The President.

And beside him, the Prime Minister.

"What is going on here?" Her father's voice rang out, firm and authoritative.

Beatrice scrambled to her feet instantly, rushing toward her father's side like a frightened child seeking protection.

The President's gaze swept past her, landing almost immediately on Silas, who was still trying, failing to stand upright.

"What is wrong with him?"

"Sick," Elara answered quickly, almost too quickly.

Calvin's eyes snapped to her face at once, suspicion flickering in their depths.

"I'm... I'm fine," Silas managed, his voice strained as he forced himself halfway up, only for his body to falter again. It looked less like weakness and more like something was pulling him apart from the inside.

"Why are you on a rampage?" the Prime Minister asked, irritation seeping into his tone as he glanced between Elara and his daughter.

Elara straightened, her expression cooling instantly. "Why? Am I not allowed to punish citizens who make mistakes in this country?"

"On your first day back?" he shot back. "Everyone is here to celebrate you, yet you choose to turn it into a spectacle in front of distinguished guests?"

Elara let out a soft, humorless snort. "If your daughter hadn't stolen my identity, I wouldn't have had a reason to."

A brief silence followed.

"And why would she steal your identity?" her father asked, his voice measured, but probing. "Did you think to ask her?"

Elara's fist clenched at her side.

Before she could respond, Calvin stepped forward, his gaze locking onto Beatrice.

"Why did you steal the Alpha's identity?" he asked bluntly.

Beatrice hesitated, her lips parting as her eyes flickered once again toward Silas.

"Because..." she began, her voice trembling just enough to sound convincing. "Because I'm in love with Silas."

A ripple went through the crowd.

"What?" Elara's brows furrowed, disbelief clear in her tone. "You're in love with Silas... and somehow that led to Greene?"

Even Silas, in his dazed state, seemed to register his name faintly, his expression tightening as if he were trying and failing to grasp the conversation happening around him.

"Who is Greene to you?" the Prime Minister asked smoothly, redirecting the narrative with practiced ease.

Beatrice straightened slightly, clinging to her story. "I'm telling the truth. I had to disguise myself... to make Silas jealous. That was the only way."

Soft laughter broke out across the room.

Whispers followed, all romantic, dramatic, and amusing.

The tension shifted.

"Well, that settles it, doesn't it?" the Prime Minister continued, his tone light but pointed. "We are family, Elara. Matters like this should be handled privately, not turned into entertainment for a crowd."

His gaze sharpened slightly. "Or did you lose your manners during your twelve-year... absence?"

The jab landed and Elara felt it-but didn't react.

Not outwardly.

The Prime Minister turned, placing a guiding hand on Beatrice's shoulder as he began to lead her away.

As she moved, Beatrice glanced back.

And smiled.

A small, sharp, victorious smile meant only for Elara.

"Take care of this," the President said, his tone quieter now but no less firm. "And meet me in my study tomorrow morning. You will explain everything."

Then he turned, following after the Prime Minister.

The crowd slowly began to settle, though the whispers hadn't stopped.

Elara exhaled slowly, the tension in her chest coiling tighter instead of easing.

Then she turned back to Silas. He was still watching her, still breathing unevenly, still affected, and this time, she didn't hesitate. 

She started toward him.

"What's wrong with him?" Calvin's voice cut in, stopping her mid-step.

Elara paused.

"Who?" she asked, though she already knew.

Calvin lifted his hand slightly, pointing.

"Silas."