Chapter 5 The Banquet Of Shadows
Ophelia's Pov
I lowered my head, tired of their pretence, my hand reached out for the ham in my dress, my lip pinned together, biting the corner of my lip.
As if he noticed my nervousness. He placed his hand on my lower back, strong firm.
I am supposed to feel protected, but my body sniffed away from his hold. I wanted to pull away but I can't bear to do that, but the corner of my lip shaped into a smile. Not the excited one. But asking for help.
Their gaze and whispers grew more on me, making me shiver in fear.
He led me to the center of the hall, where he sat. He pulled a chair for me and I sat down. He sat beside me.
I have never been treated like this. My whole life I have only been treated like a weak slave omega that doesn't belong anywhere.
I bit my nails. but noticed someone gaze on me, it burns as if wanting to tear me apart. I glanced up, she is sitting across from me. Elegant, elite and stunning.
But there is one more thing I see. Hatred for me.
She sat up right, her back resting on the chair, her hand across her chest.
“The stray you pick up from the forest?” She asked, ignoring me.
I scoffed. I am losing it. “You….,” I opened my mouth but no word came out. I took a deep breath trying to control my anger.
His jaws tightened. “Yes she is a trespasser but not a stray, she has a name. Ophelia.” He held my hand after saying that.
My heart jumped, my ear turned red, but my expression changed immediately, remembering his fake smile from before. This might also be one of his acts.
My wrist glowed immediately, I tried to take my hand away from his hold, but his grip was hard, refusing to let go, left with no other choice I let him have his way.
He leaned closer, whispering. “Is there a problem?” He asked if he noticed again.
I swallowed, hard. “N–No,” I whispered, forcing a smile that didn’t reach anywhere close to my eyes. “I’m fine.”
But I wasn’t. My wrist was still burning under his touch, the glow pulsing faintly like it had a heartbeat of its own. I tucked my hand under the table slowly, hoping no one noticed, hoping he didn’t.
I tried to pull my hand free again, gently this time… but he tightened his grip even more, his thumb brushing my skin like he owned it.
“Relax,” he murmured, his breath brushing my temple. “No one here will harm you.”
I laughed inside. If only he knew how terrified I was. How every whisper felt like a knife slicing into my back.
More pairs of eyes turned toward me. Some are curious. Some disgusted. Some were amused.
I felt like a lamb surrounded by wolves.
The woman across us, Seraphina, I guessed, leaned forward, her gaze cold as winter frost.
“Logan,” she said sweetly, “I didn’t know you had developed a taste for broken things.”
I clenched my jaw so tight my teeth almost cracked.
Before I could think of a reply, Logan’s hand moved to my thigh under the table, firm, warning me to stay silent. His eyes flickered dangerously.
“That is enough,” he said sharply. “Watch your tongue.”
A hush fell across the hall.
Seraphina’s smile didn’t fade, but her eyes darkened with something sharper than anger, something close to jealousy.
My chest tightened. Why would she be jealous?
No one ever looked at me twice in the Moon Pack.
No one ever wanted me, or wanted to protect me.
So why him? Why now?
I know it is all a pretence, but deep down I still feel something. Maybe excitement. Or mixed feelings.
I looked down, trying to hide the confusion swirling inside me. My wrist burned again, stronger this time. The glow shot up my arm so fast I had to grip the edge of the table to steady myself.
Logan’s head snapped toward me.
“What is wrong?” he whispered harshly.
“I—I don’t know,” I muttered, my voice shaking. “Just leave me.”
But he didn’t. He pushed his chair back abruptly, the legs scraping loudly against the marble floor. He grabbed my hand again—publicly this time. The hall gasped.
“We’re leaving,” he announced.
My heart jumped into my throat as he dragged me out of the banquet hall, ignoring every stare, every whisper, every protest.
We didn’t stop until we reached the empty corridor.
He turned, pinning me against the wall with just the intensity of his stare. His eyes glowed faintly silver, like he was fighting something inside him.
“Tell me the truth,” he said softly, almost dangerously. “Who are you, Ophelia?”
I blinked, confused. “I told you—I'm nobody.”
A lie, or truth, I didn’t even know anymore.
His hand lifted, brushing the hair away from my face the same way he did earlier. My breath hitched.
“There is something about you that is not… normal,” he murmured.
Did he notice? I blinked, not in guilt but fear.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered, looking down.
He tilted my chin up with a finger. “Your wrist glows when I touch you. Your scent changed overnight. No omega has that.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Logan—”
Before I could finish, a guard ran down the hallway and dropped to his knees.
“My king! A rogue was captured at the border. He mentioned a girl from the Moon Pack. An omega. He said she escaped alive.”
Logan’s eyes darkened as he turned to me slowly… like a predator circling its prey.
My breath seized. My wrists trembled.
I couldn’t move.
They can't probably come right. I avoided his gaze, my heart beating hard against my chest.
“Ophelia,” he said, voice low, dangerous. “What exactly are you hiding from me?”
His eyes glowed, but my wrist burned, I felt heated beneath. My whole world tilted—
My leg weakened, I opened my mouth but no word came out. Gasps. And close my mouth, biting my lower lip.
He watches me closely watching my eyes movement and expression closely. I am sure that he did not miss this as well.