เข้าสู่ระบบLAIA
Who would’ve thought my new toxic trait is staring at a man I can’t even see fully? Not just any man, the Alpha of these masked strangers.
I should be minding my business, but my eyes won’t leave him. Every move seems to entice me; the way his muscles tighten and relax under his shirt, strong, powerful and controlled.
The mask might have succeeded in hiding his face, but definitely not the power he's seems to exude.
He moves across the training deck like the ship belongs to him. Every strike and turn is totally on a god mode, and nothing like the pack training sessions I’ve seen a hundred times. Those were practice. This is violence turned into art.
His fist cuts through the air faster than I can blink, each blow landing on a wooden dummy with a hollow crack, his kicks spinning with a grace that reminds me of kung fu movies. But this isn’t a performance.
I stand on the deck of the large ship pretending to look at the waves lapping at its side, and somehow, all I can think about is the women whispering earlier that he’s an illegitimate heir, not a true Alpha, surrounded by enemies circling him like sharks.
Trying not to make him catch me, I looked away.
I put my elbows on the wide railing and push the irritating piece of hair being abused by the wind behind my ear. It flies right back out.
For whatever reason, we’ve been left alone, not caged, not pushed around… just idle. And yet under a microscope. There are no phones I could use to call Liam. Do they even have reception in the middle of the sea?
It’s been two days on this godforsaken ship. They walk around barking orders and keeping the ship moving, still wearing their uniforms and masks. How do they not get sweaty with those masks glued to their faces? Minutes after that thought, a young slim warrior comes up to Alpha Damon, whispers something to him, and walks away after his Alpha's node. I watch him exhale a long breath, wipe his chest with a towel, and still… entirely. A heartbeat passes, then all the masked men as one, reach up to their faces and pull off the masks.
Did he just issue a mind-link order to all of his pack members here? On a ship with thick metal walls, away from his territory where he can feed off the land?
I freeze. My eyes find his face. No, not just a face, Alpha Damon’s face. That’s all I see. Cold. Distant.
Grey eyes that shouldn’t burn, but somehow do.
It’s insane. I feel fifty shades of messed up just staring at him. Who is this man?
His gaze locks on me. The wind from the sea whips at my hair and cuts through the thin clothes making me shiver. But I stand there like a statue. He just stares. Stares and stares until I’m convinced I’m losing my mind. Can’t he speak?
A low thunderous sound rolls across the deck and the warriors moved into what seems to be specific positions.
The ship groans as it kisses the dock, the sound of chains clanking and wood creaking fills the air.
One of the masked men, well with no mask anymore, steps forward, his voice calm yet commanding.
“Time to move.”
I stare ahead, and the first thing my gaze meets with is the fortress itself, a wall of stone, and steel carved into cliffs rising so high it swallows the sky.
We disembark in groups, the warriors dividing themselves as we continued on foot, marching straight into the heart of the fortress. I look back, and dozens of cars are slowly driving out from the bowels of the giant ship. A truck’s bed is fully loaded, heavy under the weight.
“Keep walking.” The bark is only half-hearted.
Moving deeper past the gates, my jaw nearly hits the ground. What I thought was just a fortress is nothing compared to what stretches before me. This is a whole pack, alive, sprawling, land hidden behind tall walls.
Whoever designed this place was a genius. And I'm suddenly wondering if these massive walls were built to keep enemies out… or to keep something locked inside?
Lining the street are the members of the Faceless Pack, rows of them standing shoulder to shoulder, watching us march in like a parade. Their stares are heavy, crawling over my skin like fire.
And the worst part? Most of those eyes are on me. I can feel their whispers moving through the crowd, soft murmurs, words I can’t make out.
***
Aristotle once said, ‘He who has overcome his fears will truly be free.’ Easy words, right? But the truth is, fear doesn’t just vanish, it feeds on the silence you don’t want to face.
It’s suddenly dawning on me… fear isn’t always about monsters or death. Definitely not. It’s about the quiet things. The fear of starting over again. The fear of being alone, day after day, without Liam.
I'll be a liar if I said my legs don't ache. A worse liar if I said I don't feel nauseated.
We’re in a big temple with white walls and tall pillars. Light streams through the open roof, making the marble floor shine. Silence stretches all around us.The room is so quiet that even a pin dropping would echo. The scent of incense and burning herbs fills my nose. I look up… Wolf statues line the walls, their eyes glowing faintly in the light. Whoever did the artwork did an incredible job, it’s haunting, gothic, yet beautiful.
At the altar, a woman with long white hair stands with her back to us. Her robe flows around her like mist.
Alpha Damon steps forward, the mask now covering his face. Interesting… I thought they only wore those masks in other pack territories.
He clears his throat, and the Priestess finally, slowly turns to face us.
Alongside eleven others, I stand still, not daring to make a sound. Her eyes are strange, ancient, almost glowing, and I doubt they’re mortal.
“I’ve done my duty, Selara. The Sacred Twelve are here,” Alpha Damon says, his voice cold and much more like a growl. He doesn’t sound like a man who talks much. From what I’ve seen, the only time he spoke more than a few words was when he tried to convince Alphason Cael not to separate the children from their mother.
Before the High Priestess can even respond, Alpha Damon turns on his heel and strides past like we’re invisible.
Don’t look, Laia. Yes, don’t look… You can do this.
The words pound in my head like a chant. Oh, fuck this. Is he really just going to dump us here and go back to his people like it’s nothing? Focus, Laia. Focus. That’s not why you’re here. Remember Liam. Get this done, then leave.
I peek from under my lashes, my hands clasped in front of me demurely, and see his grey eyes slide over me from behind his mask. He doesn’t pause, as his steps carry him too close to me. Another step and he’ll be right here. I hold my breath, I don’t need his Alpha scent in my head. His eyes don’t stray from mine, cold and intent. I watch him in slow motion as he takes the last step towards me, towards the door, and freeze… The back of his hand, his knuckles brush against my hip for such a short moment that I am not sure I imagined it. I press my eyes shut and forbid myself from inhaling. I won’t breathe in his scent, I won’t look him in the eyes any more. No, no, no!
The heavy door groans behind me, and the echo ricochets off the dark walls telling me the masked Alpha is gone. I gasp filling my lungs with needed oxygen and taste him on the back of my tongue.
~LAIA~I clutch the purse tighter to my side, my eyes fighting hard to maintain contact with his silver ones, trying to decipher whatever theory he's making up in that slippery mind of his."What do you think would be in a girl's clutch purse aside from girly essentials?" A forced, awkward laugh bubbles up from my chest.He shrugs his shoulders so indifferently, the sly corner of his mouth twitching into a taunting smirk. "I wasn't assuming anything else..."He doesn't get to finish."Get the fuck away from her!" That strong, familiar voice sends my heart surging into my throat.I spin around to find Damon stalking toward us, his grey eyes blazing with barely restrained fury. His entire body is coiled tight, every muscle tense, like he’s in his wolf form about to strike. The temperature around us seems to drop several degrees as pack members instinctively step back, sensing the Alpha's rage."Well, well," Xaden drawls, not moving an inch despite the anger radiating off Damon. "If it i
~LAIA~I barely register the walk back to my room. My legs move on autopilot, my mind still reeling from what I just did.I stole from Damon.The thought hits me in waves, each one threatening to pull me under. My hands shake as I fiddle with the handle and slip inside my room, pressing my back against the door immediately it clicks shut.Breathe, Laia. Just breathe.The realization of what I've done crashes over me, and for a moment, I think I might be sick.What have I done?I push off the door and stumble to my dresser, catching sight of myself in the mirror. My face is pale, eyes too wide, pupils dilated with adrenaline. The black hoodie and leggings suddenly feel like a confession, like evidence of my crime written across my body.Change. I need to change.My fingers fumble with the hoodie, yanking it over my head with jerky, panicked movements. The satin gown lies draped over a chair where I left it, beautiful and innocent, completely at odds with what I've become.A thief. A tr
~LAIA~I take a step back. Those blue eyes are hot and scorching as they glare daggers at me, reminding me of the last time she caught me with Cael. Her emerald dress makes her look like some kind of elegant predator from the ocean that laps up the shores of the Faceless Pack. But it's not the shock of seeing her that makes my blood turn to ice; it's the satisfied smirk playing on her lips."Enjoying your little reunion?" she purrs, stepping into the moonlight with the confidence.I mean, I had every plan of meeting with her, but not like this."I can promise you... it's not what you think...""I don't care about what you think I think, Laia... You're fucking running out of time. How long is it going to take you to get the Relic? I mean, I handed you the map... and you still can't get just one job done?""It hasn't been easy. I mean, I have a plan, I’ve been trying to make it happen for some time now...""Trying?" Her voice drops to a dangerous whisper, and she takes a step closer. "D
~LAIA~To say I’m not nervous is the biggest understatement of the year. It’s the Blood Moon Convergence Festival, and for damn once, I don’t fucking know how to act. Or what to do.Okay, that’s a lie. I know exactly what to do. Make it to the evening festival. Try as hard as I can to see Lysandra. Tell her the plan is in motion, stretch everything out, and ask about Liam.I’m dressed in a fitted V-neck satin black gown, the slit climbing dangerously high up my thigh. Both girls really outdid themselves dressing me this perfectly for the event, like I’m some nominee walking into an award show. Except it actually looks like one.The driver pulls into the parking lot, and Rhea and Sage assist me out of the car.Lights glow everywhere, red and gold, soft and bright at the same time. People move around in beautiful clothes, laughing, talking and chatting.Music plays low in the background, slow and steady. And I feel it in my chest; this isn’t just a festival. It feels important. Big."We
~LAIA~Damon hasn’t spoken to me since that night.Since I said her name.Note to future self: never bring her up again.I’m not even shocked. That’s always been the rhythm with us, one day we’re close, and the next he’s gone like I imagined everything. Hot. Cold. Here. Then nowhere.And maybe I was too blunt. But the truth doesn’t soften just because it hurts. I know why he keeps me near and it's because I look like her, because I fit into the empty shape she left behind.He made me sit in her chair at that first breakfast. I see it now. Back then I thought it was a coincidence but now I know better. He wanted to pretend, just for a moment, that she was still there. That the ghost in his life could breathe again through me.I saw it in his eyes. I’m not some naïve girl who can’t read longing when it stares her in the face.These past few days, I've been burying myself in plans that include how to hack into the vault and fetch the relic.I already have his fingerprint. That part was a
~LAIA~My day doesn’t go quite as planned, thanks to Seris and her idea of a rebound that screams selfishness dressed up as concern. I regret not shutting it down and going to Zia instead. I should have trusted my instincts.It’s late now. Late enough that the pack house settles into its false sense of security.Perfect timing. I lie back and start mapping the plan. I’ll need a chip. And Damon’s fingerprints.Biometric systems are arrogant like that, convinced authority can’t be copied. That’s always been their weakness. People treat fingerprints like something sacred.They forget how careless they are. A glass.A phone screen. The inside of his car door.Hell, skin-on-skin contact leaves residue if you know how to lift it.I smirk faintly.I don’t need to cut off his finger like some cheap action-movie cliché. I just need him careless. Relaxed. Trusting.Once I have the print, the rest is easy. Silicone mold. Conductive gel. A fake layer thin enough to fool the scanner, warm enough t







