Chapter One
Lilianna
The sun was too bright, the sky too blue, and the heat radiated off the concrete in a way that seemed punishing. My mother’s voice was a buzz in my ear—polite, clipped, and insistent—as she spoke to one of the sponsors. I sat beside her, silent, exactly where I was expected to be.
I wasn’t here to watch the match, I wasn’t even here for the player everyone was obsessed with. No, I was here because my presence, as an obedient, high-ranking Omega daughter of the esteemed Wycliffe family, made for excellent optics. My father said it softened our image. That I was a “graceful accessory” to our name.
I hated tennis.
I sat straight-backed under the white-and-gold pavilion my family had rented at the edge of the center court, perfectly stillexcept for the occasional tilt of my chin. My mother had told me to project grace, my father had told me to smile and neither of them had said a single word to me since we arrived.
There were rules to these events. Sit. Smile. Nod at the right people. Don't speak unless you're asked. Look pleased to be here, even if you'd rather be anywhere else.
I folded my hands in my lap, smoothing the hem of my white linen dress, and kept my expression neutral, while my older brother grunted behind me. He was bored too, but he had permission to show it. I didn’t.
The match on the court was nearing its end, the crowd beginning to buzz with the low rumble of anticipation. All eyes were on Julian Vale—the Alpha everyone came to see. His name had been everywhere for months. Articles. Commercials. Talk shows. Everyone called him the “King of the Court.” Not just because of his win streak, but because of the way he carried himself—like he ruled the space around him.
And he did. It was impossible not to watch him.
Every serve came with an easy kind of power, every movement deliberate and graceful. He wasn’t just playing. He was commanding. His dark hair was soaked through with sweat, but nothing about him looked messy. Even wild, he looked composed. Lethal, in the way Alphas could be.
I tried not to look too long.
He was... striking. Intimidating.
Beautiful.
And for one brief moment—impossibly—he glanced up into the crowd. Not just into the stands. But directly at the row of private boxes.
Directly at me.
I stilled.
There was no way he could see me clearly from there. And yet—I felt that look like a touch. Sharp, assessing. Not demandingor possessive like most Alphas I’d known. Just... curious. Like he was trying to place me.
Like he saw something.
Then he turned away, caught the next serve, and the moment shattered with the thunder of the crowd. He won the match seconds later, and I barely registered it. Everyone around me was clapping, cheering, standing, but I stayed seated, stunned by something I didn’t have words for.
“Lilianna,” my mother hissed under her breath. “Smile. Stand up.”
I obeyed before I even thought about it. A perfect Omega. Polished and quiet. Unthreatening.
We were ushered down from the pavilion and led toward the lounge area where the players were expected to make an appearance. My father had pulled strings, of course. There were sponsors to charm and photographs to be taken. This wasn’t just a match—it was a business opportunity. And I was part of the package.
The lounge was cool, softly lit, and reeked of wealth. No noise from the crowd made it in here—only the clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversations.That’s when I saw them.
Julian was standing just inside, a towel draped around his neck, his expression unreadable. He looked freshly showered, hair damp and curling slightly at the edges, wearing a dark polo shirt that made the breadth of his shoulders hard to ignore. He wasn’t alone.
Three other Alphas stood near him, forming a loose arc without touching. They didn’t say much, but their presence was undeniable. One of them—tall, older, with streaks of silver at his temples—was scanning the room like he was cataloging every person inside. Another leaned against the wall with a lopsided smile, lazily charming. The third was younger, built like aswimmer and deadly quiet, his gaze landing on me only once before looking away again like he already understood too much.
And Julian... Julian looked at me again. I expected a once-over. An appraisal. I braced for it, because that’s what always came next.
But it didn’t. Instead, his brow furrowed slightly—thoughtfully. Like I surprised him. He crossed the space between us before I could process it.
"Hi," he said, eyes soft as he looked down on me.
Just that. No smugness. No claim. Just a simple word, wrapped in a voice far warmer than I expected.
