Chapter 31

Chapter 31


Eva’s POV

"You're quiet again," Trent said, his thumb brushing my cheek as he sat across from me in the study. "Talk to me, little wolf."

I glanced away. “It’s just... the gathering. I’ve never stood in front of so many Alphas before. They’ll see right through me.”

He frowned, leaned closer. “See what?”

“That I’m not like the others. That I don’t belong here.”

His hands found mine. “You’re mine. That’s all they need to know.”

I tried to smile, but he wasn’t finished.

“You don’t have to be anything more than Eva. I’ll be right next to you. Whatever happens tonight, you won’t face it alone.”

I met his eyes. Warm. Steady. And for a second, I almost believed I could handle it.

“And Amelia will be with you too,” he added. “She knows how these things work. Trust her.”

I nodded slowly. “Thank you, Trent.”

He tilted my chin and kissed my forehead. “Get ready, my Luna.”

The moment he left, I let out a shaky breath, only to have Amelia push open the door seconds later, her face all knowing smirk.

“I told you he’s got it bad,” she said.

“I’m not even going to pretend to argue.”

Amelia sat beside me, bumping her shoulder into mine. “How are you feeling? Be honest.”

“Nervous. Sick. Excited. Like I’m about to walk into a war zone in heels.”

She laughed. “Pretty accurate. But you’ll survive. I’ll be there too. I’ve already warned Trent not to hover, but you know he will.”

“I don’t mind the hovering,” I murmured. “Not when it’s him.”

Amelia grinned. “Now, that’s the spirit. You’ve come a long way, Eva.”

A knock interrupted us. A young girl — Clara — peeked in, breathless.

“Luna—” she gasped. “It’s… the dress.”

“What happened?” I was already on my feet.

“I-I went to collect it like you said, but someone must’ve— It’s torn. Badly. I don’t know how it happened—”

My heart dropped.

“Show me.”

The dress had been a gift from Trent. Moonstone blue, soft as water, stitched with silver vines along the sleeves. It was supposed to make me feel regal, radiant—worthy.

Now it was ruined.

The sash was shredded. The hem frayed with what looked like claw marks. I didn’t even need to sniff — but I did. Myra. And Kiara.

Amelia hissed softly. “Those witches.”

“They knew I needed this,” I whispered.

“They’re pushing you,” she said. “Trying to get in your head.”

I swallowed down the sting behind my eyes. “Well, it almost worked.”

“Almost,” Amelia corrected. “But you’re not breaking. Not tonight.”

I nodded. “Is there a backup?”

Amelia looked apologetic. “There was... but it doesn’t suit the theme. You’d stand out for the wrong reasons.”

“Then I’ll fix this,” I said, voice steadier than I felt. “Clara, needle and thread. Scissors. Whatever we can find.”

Clara blinked. “Y-You want to sew it yourself?”

“Yes. And you’re going to help me.”

For the next hour, the room became a whirlwind of fabric, silver pins, and laughter — yes, laughter. Because as I cut the ruined sash and pinned the shoulder differently, something shifted.

I wasn’t trying to be the perfect Luna.

I was just being me. The omega girl who learned to stitch in the servants’ quarters when no one else would help. The girl who knew how to hide bruises with makeup and fix her own torn sleeves before anyone noticed.

I looked in the mirror.

The dress wasn’t what it used to be — it was something else now. Off-shoulder. Sleek. Sharper around the waist, giving me the spine I didn’t know I needed.

Amelia stood behind me, fixing my hair into a braided crown.

“You did that,” she whispered. “No one else.”

“Thank you... for reminding me who I am.”

“No,” she said. “I reminded you what you’re not. You’re not their victim anymore.”

I smiled — small, but real.

The sun had dipped lower now. Golden light spilled in through the tall windows. The Gathering would start in less than an hour.

There was no more time to be afraid.

“I’m ready,” I whispered.

“Damn right you are.”

The door creaked.

I turned, thinking it was Clara.

It wasn’t.

Kiara strolled in without knocking, hair in perfect curls, lips curled into that familiar smirk. “Eva,” she drawled. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

“You are,” Amelia said flatly.

Kiara ignored her, eyes scanning me. Probably expecting to find me curled in a ball, crying over a dress.

But then she saw it — the moonstone-blue gown reborn, sleeker and more stunning than before.

Her smirk faltered.

Her jaw tightened.

And I smiled.

“Oh,” I said lightly. “Did you need something?”

Silence.

For once, Kiara had no words.

I turned back to the mirror and adjusted the earrings Trent gave me, not bothering to hide my satisfaction. Let them try. Let them all watch.

The omega they buried was long gone.