The news broke like wildfire.
It wasn't just whispered—it was shouted.
The Alpha of the Thorne Clan is marrying a Beta.
Mafia circles buzzed. Networks lit aflame. Socialites and underbosses and rival clans all reacted at once, as if someone had tossed gasoline onto a sleeping dragon.
Caleb Arden felt each word like a sharp impact.
He had known humiliation was coming, but knowing wasn't the same as feeling it. The public announcement, stamped and sealed by alliance decree, arrived in inboxes and private channels within minutes. The ceremonial engagement event was to be held that evening.
And Caleb would be on display.
"Smile," his mother had said before he left. "You're doing us proud."
He'd smiled then.
He wasn't smiling now.
The hall they had chosen was gilded with power — chandeliers glittering above high-ranking clan representatives, gilded banners marking family banners and alliances. It was the perfect stage.
And Caleb felt like an unwilling actor.
Every whisper seemed louder than the music.
"He's so plain—"
"Poor thing doesn't even have Omega scent—"
"Imagine being… substituted. How humiliating."
"Bet he's lucky to be eaten and not killed."
Laughter like broken glass.
Caleb kept his expression neutral as he moved through the crowd, shoulders tucked in politely, movements precise. People stared — some in curiosity, others with poorly veiled scorn. Every gaze was a weight pressing on the back of his neck.
A glass clinked behind him.
"You look like you're about to faint."
He turned.
Rival Alpha.
Lucian's childhood friend. Darius Vale. Calm, sharp, and infuriatingly steady. His gaze held none of the contempt everyone else wore — only observational curiosity.
Caleb swallowed. "I'm fine."
"You're not," Darius said flatly.
He held out a handkerchief.
It was simple — white silk, monogrammed in gold. Warmed by his pocket. A tiny gesture, but one that felt like a life raft in a storm.
Caleb stared at it.
His lips parted, breath trembling just the slightest. His fingers brushed Darius's as he accepted it — and whether it was deliberate or not, the touch lingered.
Darius didn't look away.
Something in Caleb's chest loosened — a strange warmth threading through the cold.
"Thank you," he managed, voice softer.
Darius nodded once, expression unreadable. "Don't let them break you."
It was the most human thing Caleb had heard all day.
Across the hall, crystal shattered.
Lucian Thorne had been watching.
Not Caleb. Not the guests.
Darius.
His glass cracked between his fingers and fell, a trail of liquor splattering across marble as silence followed like a shadow.
Jaxon Reed, who had been quietly observing, sighed internally.
"Oh?" he murmured. "You going to claim that was an accident?"
Lucian didn't answer.
His jaw was clenched so tight it looked carved from marble. His eyes flicked once more toward the pair — Caleb, head lowered, clutching a handkerchief. Darius, silently watchful.
An irritation bloomed low in Lucian's chest.
Not jealous.
Just irritated.
That his Beta—no, not his—would lean on someone else so easily.
That someone else dared offer.
He straightened his jacket. Smooth as ever.
"Don't be ridiculous," Lucian said at last. "This is merely an alliance function."
Jaxon snorted quietly. "Sure."
Lucian ignored him.
The music shifted.
Time for the official announcement.
Lights lowered slightly as the podium was illuminated, and the attention of every guest swung toward the main stage. Family heads and alliance elders were already in place. Formalities were minutes away.
The air tightened like a pulled thread.
Caleb was summoned.
He moved toward the podium with careful steps, shoulders squared even as his pulse raced. He could feel Lucian's eyes on him now—cold, evaluating.
The hall seemed to quiet.
And then—
"CALEB!"
The voice pierced the silence like lightning.
A figure stood in the doorway.
Trembling. Tear-streaked. Clutching a crumpled handkerchief like a dying bird.
Evan Arden.
The Omega brother.
Drama incarnate.
He stumbled forward, gasping, cheeks flushed as if he'd run miles. People murmured in confusion. Cameras turned instantly.
Evan's voice cracked, raw and high. "My brother—" He sniffed loudly, eyes watery. "Stole my fiancé!"
Shock rippled across the hall.
Gasps. Whispers. Some jaws dropped with delight.
Caleb froze.
Evan continued, shoulders shaking delicately. "I loved him—I was promised to him."
A sob. Hugged himself. Perfect performance.
"But they—" he gestured vaguely toward Caleb, "—they didn't care. They threw me aside like—like trash!"
His voice broke again.
Every eye was now on Caleb.
Standing silent.
Staring straight ahead.
Not reacting.
Not flinching.
But his jaw was trembling, ever so slightly.
Lucian's gaze was a storm.
Evan's theatrics had been calculated. That much was obvious.
But what struck Lucian more was Caleb's reaction — or lack thereof.
The Beta stood calm. Silent. Taking every accusation. Every glare.
He didn't defend himself.
Didn't deny anything.
Didn't so much as lift his head.
Yet Lucian saw the tremor beneath the stillness.
Saw the quiet devastation.
Something tightened in his chest, unbidden and unwelcome.
That… was strength.
Not fragility.
Not manipulation.
Strength.
Jaxon whispered from behind him, "Well. That just changed the narrative."
Lucian exhaled slowly.
And without looking away, he murmured—
"Someone shut the Omega up."
Evan wasn't done.
"The marriage was mine!" Evan sobbed. "He's taking what was mine—"
And then—
A soft gasp from the crowd.
Caleb, at last, looked up.
His voice was quiet but carried clear across the hall.
"I didn't take anything."
And it was the sincerity — not volume — that silenced the room.
Caleb looked at Evan, not with anger.
But with something far more cutting:
Resignation.
"You gave it up," he said gently. "And I was asked to clean it up. Like always."
Evan's face froze.
Caleb turned his head away.
Silence erupted again — like the eye of a storm.