Chapter 19 Little Heirs First Meeting
IF YOU'RE NOT INTERESTED IN KNOWING MORE ABOUT HER FAMILY PAST, SKIP THIS CHAPTER. This chapter talks about all of them first meeting.
(Flashback – Eighteen Years Ago)
The Rockwell Estate glittered like a floating palace that night, every lantern, every chandelier, every polished marble surface reflecting the celebration of wealth and power. It was the annual Unity Ball, where the most influential families came together to pretend they were allies instead of rivals for the sake of their firstborn child, their heirs.
Lydia Rockwell was four years old.
Her mother had insisted she wear lavender, a soft shade that matched her gentle nature. Her curls had been tied back with a ribbon, her tiny shoes polished until they shone. But Lydia didn’t care about any of that; she only cared that her parents were finally laughing again, even if those laughs sounded a little… forced.
“Stay close, sweetheart,” her mother whispered as they entered the ballroom. “A lot of important people are here tonight.”
Lydia nodded, clutching her little silver bracelet, the one her father gave her for protection.
——
Across the room, two Magnus siblings watched her arrival.
Amberson Magnus, age five, stood with perfect posture, her pink gown puffed out like a doll’s. Her eyes narrowed the moment she saw Lydia.
“Who is she?” Amber snapped under her breath. “Why is everyone staring at her?”
Justin looked at his twin sister and groaned. “Amber, not everyone is staring.”
“Yes, they are! Look at the grown-ups, they’re smiling at her. Mommy never made me wear lavender.”
“That’s because lavender isn’t your color,” Justin muttered.
Amber gasped. “You’re so mean!”
Before she could shove him, their mother placed a firm hand on her daughter’s shoulder and pulled Amber away to greet the guests, leaving Justin standing alone, bored out of his mind.
He spotted Lydia again. Something about her looked different from all the other polished children in the hall. She wasn’t pretending to be perfect. She looked… real.
So Justin moved. Carefully watching her to see why people were smiling genuinely at her. He couldn't smell her wolf, and this made him curious.
—
Little Lydia was inspecting the mountains of desserts on the banquet table when she heard a voice behind her.
“You’re thinking about stealing one,” the boy said.
She turned to find a boy with messy hair and yellow eyes, he had the kind of confidence that only came from growing up powerful. Lydia blinked. “How do you know?”
“Because I’m thinking the same thing.”
She smiled, a small but genuine smile. “I wasn’t going to steal it. Mummy said stealing is bad, if you want something ask and you'll be given.”
He shrugged. “Well, I was going to steal it. I don't like asking.”
Lydia giggled, biting her lip to hide it. “Aren’t you scared your parents will scold you?”
He smirked. “My parents scold me whether I’m good or bad. Might as well enjoy the dessert.”
She laughed again, louder this time. “Oh, you're so funny, boy!”
Justin froze….funny? He had never heard a laugh like that, warm, bright, unpretending. It tugged something unfamiliar inside his chest.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Lydia.”
“Lydia what?”
“Rockwell.”
Justin blinked. “You’re a Rockwell?”
She nodded innocently. “Is that bad?”
“No…” His voice softened without his permission. “No, it’s not bad. It might be bad for my parents, but it's perfect for me.”
They stood there for a moment, looking at each other like two children who hadn’t expected the world to place them in each other’s path.
Then Lydia leaned forward whispering, “Do you want to share one? Then it’s not stealing.”
He grinned. “Deal.”
They reached for the same pastry at the same time, their fingers brushing. Something sparked.
Both children pulled back, startled. Neither spoke, but both felt the strange warmth ripple through their tiny hands.
Justin swallowed hard. He didn’t know it yet, but something ancient had recognized her.
—
Watching from the far side of the hall was Harridan Wolfe, seven years old, tall for his age, sharp-eyed even as a boy.
He hadn’t approached Lydia yet, not tonight, not ever before, but he noticed everything.
Especially the way she smiled at Justin.
His father’s voice echoed in his ear:
Stay away from the Rockwells. Nothing good comes from mixing with weakness. They might be wealthy, but they're humans.
Harridan didn’t see weakness in Lydia. He saw a girl who glowed as if she carried her own light. And he felt a strange pull that confused him.
“Lydia Rockwell..” he murmured her name as he read her lips. “I will never forget you.”
\---
Amber found her brother just in time to see that glow.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, stomping toward them. “Justin, why are you talking to her?”
Justin rolled his eyes. “Go away, Amber.”
Amber’s eyes snapped to Lydia. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Lydia swallowed but didn’t look away. “Why?”
Amber leaned down, with a low and sharp voice. “Because nobody wants you here.”
Justin stepped in front of Lydia instinctively, surprising even himself. “Amber, stop.”
Amber’s face pinched with jealousy. “Mother said we shouldn’t mix with Rockwells.”
“Well Mother isn’t here,” Justin snapped. “And Lydia didn’t do anything wrong.”
Amber’s cheeks burned with rage. She hated that her brother defended someone else. Especially someone prettier, softer, and instantly liked by adults.
“Fine,” Amber snapped, turning away, “stay with her then. I'd leave!” she proposed.
Lydia furrowed her brows. “This is my house, I can't leave. Maybe we should play together. How about dessert?” She asked Amber with a friendly smile.
Amber hissed, “I don’t care about your stupid dessert and games!”
But she did care. And jealousy, even at five, was a poison that sank deep.
\---
Meanwhile, Harridan wandered away from the crowd, needing air. The back hallway was dim and quiet, the perfect place to breathe.
But that was when he heard them.
Two men. Two voices he recognized but couldn’t place.
“…the Rockwells are getting too bold.”
“They need to be neutralized before they ruin everything.”
“A warning wasn’t enough. The daughter must not survive to inherit.”
Harridan froze. Daughter? Neutralized? He didn't understand the big grammar, but he knew it was bad.
He peeked around the corner, but all he saw were tall shoulders and expensive suits. Adult voices; dangerous, calm, planning something terrible.
His heart pounded violently. But he was seven. He didn’t understand political plots or murder. He only understood that something bad was being whispered.
And that Lydia Rockwell might be in danger.
\---
Back in the ballroom, Justin and Lydia had moved to the side garden, the music fading behind them.
Justin plucked a small white flower and handed it to her. “For you.”
Lydia’s eyes softened. “Thank you. I never get flowers.”
“You should,” he said simply. “Pretty girls get flowers.”
She flushed pink. And he liked that reaction more than he should have.
Amber watched them from the balcony, gripping the railing until her knuckles went white.
“They like her,” she whispered bitterly. “They like her more than me.”
And for the first time, a seed of hatred bloomed inside Amber Magnus. A seed that would grow for years.
\---
Inside, Harridan finally found his father.
“Dad… I heard something.”
Alpha Wolfe raised an eyebrow. “Stop overthinking. Go socialize. Make friends.”
“No, they're planning to kill the Rock-” before he could finish his sentence, his father had left.
No one believed him. So Harridan kept the secret buried, confused and frightened.
A week later, the Rockwells were dead. And the glow Lydia carried was swallowed by darkness.