The Awaking Begins

The mansion's expansive dining hall was made with gold as it screamed wealth. Different kind of silverware adorned the velvet runner, yet amid the opulence, but still there was an unusual tension—an unspoken expectation of something that lingered in the air like the stillness before a tempest.

Diva just stood still at the entrance of the dinning, surrounded by two guards at her side. She had been called, not welcomed. Though her gown was simple, her vibrant energy was undeniable this evening—restrained, certainly, but just barely.

Dereek was seated at the table's end, holding a goblet filled with dark red wine. His piercing gaze remained fixed on her as she was brought inside. The Alpha aura he exuded enveloped the room, dense and weighty like fog.

"Depart from us," he instructed the guards without looking up.

They nodded and left quietly. Diva stayed upright.

"Come have a seat," he said finally.

She obeyed and walked slowly down to the site beside him. For a while, the only sound that was heard was a distant howl of a wolf far off in the woods, and the sound of Derek spoon clicking on his plate.

He watched her and she held her gaze without flinching.

"That thing you did earlier," he started, his voice low but clear. "The way you stood up to a pack warrior like you were born for it... Where did it come from?"

Diva blinked, caught off guard. "I don’t know."

Dereek leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "You don’t know. You just happened to throw off a full-grown wolf with training and strength twice your size?"

"It surprised me too," she replied, her voice barely a whisper. "I thought I was going to lose. I always lose."

His jaw ticked, but he stayed silent.

"I was ready to be humiliated again," she continued. "To be shoved into the mud, to hear them laugh... again. But then something snapped. I felt something stir deep inside me. Not anger, not fear. It was... primal. It just took over."

Dereek studied her, his mind spinning. There was truth in her voice, a trembling truth that even the best lier cannot even fake.

"So then, why do you let people treat like you are weak if you have that kind of strength you displayed yesterday?," he asked after a pause, the edge in his voice unmistakable. "Or do you enjoy the pity? The helplessness?"

She recoiled slightly, the question striking deep.

"No. I don't. Why would you even say something like that? Do you think I like being described as weak? I feel broken and rejected."

Her hands folded tightly into fists against her lap.

"Do you think I chose to be the Omega everyone whispered about?"

Silence again as Dereek looked away for a moment.

"Believe me, I don’t even know who I am anymore because whenever I think back to that moment when I fought with Elise, I just feel weird. I mean, I felt like someone else was moving my limbs. Like something inside me... woke up."

Dereek’s gaze fell on her, this time it was not a look of pity. Not dominance. Something else. Recognition?

The candlelight caught the outline of her face, and he realized how much strength she wore now—not in her muscles, but in her defiance. In the fire she didn’t even know she carried.

"You were not born weak," he said with a voice mearly above a whisper.

Diva looked up sharply. "Then why have I felt like I am? My whole life?"

Their eyes locked.

"Because someone or something wanted it that way," he murmured. "Because your strength was hidden... suppressed."

She just looked at him, confused.

"What are you even saying?"

He didn’t say a word, he just kept quiet for some minute.

Instead, Dereek stood up from his seat and walked to the window, looking out into the moonlit yard below and the remembered the words of the seer, her voice echoing loud in his ears.

In due time, you will know the truth. But know this, Alpha—her power was never gone. It was cloaked. Masked. She is not what you think.

He turned back around. "Tell me more about what you felt when you fought. Try to remember."

Diva shook her head, her throat tightening. "I can’t. I just... I felt heat. My heart was loud. My bones were in pain, but that wasn't my problem that time. I wanted to protect myself. I wanted to protect... me."

There it was again.

That flicker of power in her aura.

Something deep and ancient.

Dereek moved back to the table, slowly this time. He sat, folding his hands before him. He didn’t speak for a while.

The tension between them now strong as they both felt strange cause of the silence.

She just sat there looking at him, with her brows squeezed. For the first time apart from when she confronted him after the fight with Elsie, she was not scared of him. Not exactly.

He reached for the wine, poured the wine into the cup and passed it on to her.

She took it.

He leaned in slightly. "Whatever it is inside you... it's just beginning."

Diva swallowed hard. "That doesn't scare me."

"It should," he said softly, yet his voice held something deeper now—a hint of concern. Maybe even respect.

And then, just as the silence began to settle, Diva’s breath caught in her throat. Her fingers trembled slightly on the goblet.

The candle nearest her flickered erratically.

Dereek’s nostrils flared.

Her scent had changed again. Sharper. Stronger.

Not fear. Not adrenaline.

It was the scent of power trying to break free.

He leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "You felt that just now, didn’t you?"

She nodded slowly. "What’s happening to me?"

Dereek didn’t reply right away. His voice dropped to a low growl.

"I don’t know yet. But whatever it is, it’s waking up fast."

The room grew silent again. Only the fire crackled behind them. Their eyes locked once more, but this time, the intensity was undeniable.

She was no longer a trembling omega with her head bowed low.

And he was no longer just an Alpha interrogating a pack member.

Something had shifted. Deeply.

He broke the silence with a single sentence.

"Stay close to me, Diva. Because if what I think is true... your enemies will come long before your power fully does."

She didn’t answer.

She just nodded, her lips parting slightly, her breath shallow.

It was the beginning of something neither of them could name.

But both of them could feel it.

The storm had only just begun.