chapter 116
Tori's POV:
I sat in Lucas's spacious study, engrossed in an ancient tome on Lunar phase.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, and the faint scent of cedar lingered in the air, reminding me of him.
It had been three days since he'd left for the northern territory dispute, but the temporary mark he'd placed on my neck before departing still sent waves of warmth and comfort through me.
I found myself unconsciously tracing it with my fingertips.
My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. I glanced at the unfamiliar number on the screen, hesitated for a second, then answered.
"Hello, am I speaking with Ms. Sullivan? Tori Sullivan?" a woman's voice inquired.
"Yes, this is she. May I ask who's calling?" I straightened in my seat, setting the book aside.
"I'm from the Lunar phase Institute." Her voice carried undisguised excitement. "First, congratulations on winning first place in last week's competition. Your performance was truly remarkable."
"Thank you," I responded, curious about her purpose.
"I'm calling to ask if you're available to come to the institute today to complete your registration paperwork. As the first-place winner, we'd like to get you officially enrolled as soon as possible."
My heart skipped a beat. Morgan had mentioned that first-place winners might get direct entry into the institute, but I hadn't truly believed it would happen.
"Today? Yes, I can make it," I replied, trying to sound composed despite my excitement. "
---
In the afternoon, I arrived at the Lunar Phase Institute thirty minutes early.
The modern building cluster with its white marble façade gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before approaching the main entrance.
Just as I was about to push the door open, an elegant silver-haired elderly woman approached from another direction.
Dressed in a gray-blue suit, her bearing was regal and refined—unmistakably a member of high society.
When our eyes met, she suddenly halted, her expression flashing with emotions I couldn't decipher—shock, disbelief, and perhaps... longing?
"Child..." she stepped forward with trembling hands, gently grasping my wrist as her voice quavered with emotion. "Your eyes... those silver eyes..."
I stood frozen, unsure how to respond. Her reaction was so intense, as if she'd seen a ghost.
"Ms. Olivia!" A female voice broke the strange moment as a middle-aged female approached. "Are you alright?"
The silver-haired woman—Olivia—seemed to collect herself, slowly releasing my hand, though her gaze remained fixed on me.
"I'm fine, Mary," she composed herself, though the turbulence in her eyes remained evident. "I just... met a special guest. "
Mary turned to me with an apologetic smile. "Please forgive. This is Olivia Sullivan."
At the mention of her name, I immediately understood—this was William Sullivan's mother. The resemblance was clear in their refined features and dignified bearing.
"She sometimes..." Mary hesitated, lowering her voice, "mistakes young women your age for someone else. It happens occasionally."
A memory surfaced in my mind—Morgan telling me about William Sullivan's tragedy, how his daughter had died young years ago.
Understanding washed over me. The intensity in Olivia's gaze, the trembling hands reaching for me... she had momentarily seen her lost granddaughter in me.
"It's perfectly all right," I said softly, offering Olivia a gentle smile. "I'm Tori Sullivan. I'm here for the institute's entrance registration."
Olivia's eyes glistened with tears. "William was also gifted with lunar calculations, you know. "
Her voice trembled slightly. "If my granddaughter had lived... she would have been just as talented as you are now."
The raw emotion in her voice made my chest tighten.
"That's very kind of you to say," I replied, feeling my cheeks warm with embarrassment at the unexpected praise. "I should probably head inside now. The registration committee will be waiting."
Mary gently guided Olivia aside, allowing me to pass.
As I walked toward the registration hall, I could still feel Olivia's silver eyes following me.
An hour later, after completing the extensive paperwork and preliminary skills assessment, I emerged from the institute's main hall, mentally exhausted but satisfied.
To my surprise, Olivia Sullivan was still in the grand lobby, seated elegantly on a bench near the fountain.
When she spotted me, she rose.
"Ms. Sullivan—Tori," she called, approaching with a warm smile. "I hope your registration went well?"
"Yes, thank you," I replied, genuinely surprised she had waited. "Everything is in order."
"I know this might seem forward," Olivia said, her voice softer now, more personal, "but I feel a strange connection with you. Would you do me the honor of visiting my home for tea? The Sullivan estate isn't far from here."
The invitation caught me off guard. Tea with the matriarch of one of the four founding packs? It seemed surreal, yet the genuine emotion in her eyes made it impossible to refuse.
"I'd be honored, Mrs. Sullivan," I said with a slight bow of my head.
Her face brightened immediately. "Wonderful! My car is waiting outside."
As Olivia walked ahead to speak with her driver, I quickly pulled out my phone to text Lucas.
Going to visit Olivia Sullivan's home for tea. She invited me after my institute registration. Should be back by evening.
His response came almost immediately, making me wonder if he'd been waiting for my message:
Be careful. Call me if anything feels off.
No demand to avoid going. No controlling questions about why I'd accepted. Just simple concern for my safety. The trust implied in those few words made me smile as I slipped my phone back into my pocket and joined Olivia in the car.
The car stopped before an estate—the legendary Sullivan Manor.
The elegant Georgian mansion with its white columns and silver-gray stonework exuded both history and refinement.
"Come, dear," Olivia said, taking my hand with surprising familiarity as we entered. "Let me show you around."
She led me through the manor with pride. Unlike the more modern, sometimes cold aesthetic of the Grayson estate, the Sullivan home felt warm and lived-in despite its grandeur.
After the tour, we settled in a sunlit living room where a tea service awaited us.
Olivia disappeared briefly, returning with a leather-bound photo album clutched to her chest.
"I hope you don't mind indulging an old woman," she said with a self-deprecating smile as she sat beside me on the sofa. "It's not often I have someone to chat with these days. Most people are too busy or too intimidated to simply sit and talk."
"I don't mind at all," I assured her, waving away her concerns. "It's my honor to be here."
Olivia's eyes softened as she opened the album.
"This was my granddaughter, Luna," she said, pointing to a photo of a smiling baby with startling silver eyes—eyes remarkably similar to my own.
I suddenly understood Olivia's intense reaction when she'd first seen me.
"She's beautiful," I said softly, studying the happy infant surrounded by love. "If she were still alive today, she must have led such a blessed life, with a family that loved her so deeply."
Olivia nodded, blinking back tears. "She would have been about your age now. William adored her. We all did."
When Olivia turned to the last page, my heart nearly stopped.
There, a beautiful young woman with delicate features and gentle eyes held a three-month-old infant, both smiling at the camera.
Something about her smile triggered a peculiar sensation in my chest—a bittersweet ache that expanded and filled my heart. I couldn't explain why, but the image resonated within me on a level that felt almost... familiar.
"Who... who is that?" I struggled to ask, pointing at the woman.