The walk back to the Third Floor Suite was done in a hostile silence that felt heavier than the True Blood's Aura itself. Lila's entire body thrummed with a confused cocktail of residual fear, humiliation, and burning resentment. Adrian had been right: she had mistaken asset protection for salvation, and the realization made her feel sick.
She followed him into his private study. He poured a glass of deep amber liquor for himself and silently gestured for her to sit on the uncomfortable wooden chair opposite his desk.
"Begin the report, Assistant," Adrian commanded, swirling the glass. "Focus solely on the attackers. Names, affiliations, and possible motives. Do not include your subjective feelings on the dramatic rescue."
Lila reached for the leather-bound journal—the one Adrian insisted she use for her "scientific" toxin reports. She flipped to a clean page and, with a trembling hand, began to write, opting to speak the necessary details aloud first.
"The leader was Omega Anya Viridian," Lila said, focusing on the cold facts. "Affiliated with the Emerald Pack. Her motive was the Whispering Key—they believe that by invalidating your claim on me, they invalidate your right to the artifact that the key unlocks. The other two were her pack sisters. It was a direct political strike against your lineage, Alpha."
Adrian nodded slowly, taking a sip of his drink. "Correct. A bold, stupid play. The Emerald Pack misjudged the stability of my claim. The key, as you now know, requires a lineage counter to the True Blood. They believed if the Omega Asset fails, the key should revert to an unclaimed Omega eligible for the proper selection process."
"And what will happen to them?" Lila asked, trying to keep the flicker of pity from her voice. They were foolish, but they were still Omegas.
Adrian's expression hardened into granite. "They have challenged the True Blood's right of possession in a public setting. Their lineage will be stripped of certain privileges, and their participation in the Trials will be permanently compromised. They will be removed from the high-tier selection pool and assigned as breeding stock to a minor Pack."
Lila gasped silently. Stripped of privilege, condemned to a life of forced breeding—it was a brutal punishment, far harsher than anything the novel had described for minor political errors. Adrian didn't just win; he erased the opposition.
"You find that unjust, Assistant?" Adrian's silver eyes fixed on her.
"I find it efficient," Lila managed, forcing the Blackwood arrogance into her reply. "A necessary demonstration of the consequences of political miscalculation."
Adrian let out a short, satisfied sound—the closest he ever came to a laugh. "Very good, Lila. Now, the second part of your assignment."
He pushed the journal toward her. "The objective data, if you please. I need the toxin report on the moment I turned to face you after the attack."
Lila reluctantly picked up the journal. She couldn't lie about her physical symptoms, but she could certainly make the emotional data a mess.
Lila cleared her throat and began to write, narrating the scientific parts slowly, then dipping into a whirlwind of passive-aggressive commentary for her private satisfaction.
Log Entry 15: Post-Attack Analysis.Proximity: Zero inches. Full physical contact (unsolicited). Symptom Onset:Immediate and complete paralysis (non-Elemental in nature). Heart rate spiked to an estimated 160 BPM, likely due to a sudden and unexpected adrenaline surge. The typical tingling was present but rapidly overlaid by a confusing thermal shift (localized heat on the cheek). Objective Assessment of the Blue Flash: Minimal. The emotion was Contempt mixed with Slight Hypothermia—a highly erratic combination.
She paused, tapping the pen against the page, then added a dramatic flourish to the final entry:
Subjective Finding: The 'romantic rescue' scenario caused a temporary lapse in neurological function, resulting in a 0.7-second neurological regression to the mental state of a foolish protagonist in a badly written fantasy novel. This was instantly corrected upon exposure to Alpha Wolfhart's subsequent, highly predictable, and entirely unoriginal Teasing Dominance Pattern (TDP-47). Conclusion: The Alpha's presence is not merely toxic; it is severely anti-intellectual.
Lila closed the journal with a decisive snap and pushed it back to Adrian.
Adrian picked up the journal. His eyes scanned the final entry, pausing specifically on "Slight Hypothermia" and "Teasing Dominance Pattern (TDP-47)."
A low chuckle, genuine and unsettling, escaped him. "Anti-intellectual," he murmured, looking up at her with amused curiosity. "You find my methods to be unoriginal, Assistant?"
"I find your analysis of my emotional state to be a cliché," Lila retorted, crossing her arms stubbornly. "You are an Alpha. Predictable. And for the record, the racing heart was fear, pure and simple. I thought you were going to scold me for ruining your waltz, not rescue me."
Adrian leaned back, his silver eyes gleaming. "No, Lila. The racing heart was the sound of your primitive Omega nature acknowledging that, in that moment, I was the most powerful thing in the room. And you were safe because you are mine."
He set the journal down. "But fine. If you wish me to be less predictable, I shall endeavor to be so. Your next task is unconventional."
"The Trials officially begin next week with the Physical Endurance Challenge—a multi-day orienteering event in the Southern Peaks," Adrian explained, his tone suddenly businesslike. "The key to winning is not brute strength, but efficient supply management. And that requires total cooperation from the Beta support staff."
He slid a small, coded ledger across the table.
"Your Beta collaborator, Elara Hawthorne, is a capable girl. But she and the entire Omega Dormitory's support staff are currently terrified of being punished for your perfume incident. They are inefficient, they are making errors, and I cannot afford a weak supply chain."
Lila's focus sharpened. A chance to help Elara and fix a problem she had caused.
"Your mission, Lila," Adrian concluded, "is to personally manage the Omega Dormitory Beta Supply Unit. You will go to the Omega Dorms tomorrow morning and take command. Reassure them, reorganize them, and guarantee me a flawless Beta support system for the Southern Peaks Trial. You have one week."
"You want me to be a human resources manager?" Lila asked, utterly bewildered.
"I want you to use your Omega status and your perceived authority as my asset to restore order," Adrian corrected. "No Omega will dare question you now, and no Beta will defy the command of the True Blood's Asset. This is your chance to prove you are more than just a chemically interesting distraction. Succeed, and your Beta friend will remain untouched. Fail... and her breeding stock assignment begins immediately."
Lila clenched her jaw. Adrian knew exactly how to motivate her, by placing the fate of the one person she cared about entirely in her hands.
"Understood, Alpha," Lila said stiffly. "I will return with a full supply report and a perfectly functioning support unit."
Adrian simply waved his hand in dismissal. "Go, Assistant. And do try to minimize the hip-related limping. It is distracting."
Lila turned and executed her stiffest, most determined exit, ignoring the throbbing pain in her backside. She was no longer fighting for herself; she was fighting for Elara. And that, she knew, was a far more powerful motivation. The romantic interlude was over. The game had just gotten much, much deadlier.