
After My Alpha Chose Her, I Found the Lycan Prince
Chapter 3
The communal dining hall buzzed with morning activity as I slipped into my usual seat at the far end of the long oak table. My fingers nervously smoothed the fabric of my simple gray sweater—the nicest thing I owned, yet still a stark contrast to the designer clothes that adorned the higher-ranking wolves. Muffin, still adjusting to our new living arrangement, was curled up in Cyrus's wing, which left me feeling oddly vulnerable without her comforting presence.
I kept my eyes down, focusing on arranging my silverware just so, when the chair beside me scraped against the floor. I tensed, expecting one of the other Omegas, but instead caught the unmistakable cedar scent before I saw him.
'Good morning, Lia,' Cyrus said, his voice warm and low, meant only for me despite the crowded room.
My cheeks flushed as I nodded, acutely aware of the curious glances from nearby pack members. A Lycan Prince sitting next to an Omega? Unheard of.
'Thank you for... last night,' I whispered, still uncomfortable with the kindness he'd shown me.
His amber eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. 'Of course.'
Before I could say more, a hush fell over the dining hall. Collin had entered with Bianca on his arm, her crimson lips curved in a triumphant smile as she surveyed the room. My stomach clenched as they approached our table.
Cyrus's posture shifted subtly beside me, his presence suddenly more commanding, though he said nothing as Collin and Bianca took seats directly across from us.
'The pack house seems quite... crowded these days,' Bianca's voice dripped with false sweetness as she glanced pointedly at me. 'Some wolves seem to be occupying spaces they haven't earned.'
I focused on my untouched plate, pretending not to hear. Years of practice made it easy to disappear, to become invisible when necessary.
The server brought out steaming bowls of egg and vegetable stew, and I began to eat mechanically. I picked out the scallions one by one, placing them in a small pile beside my bowl—a habit I'd developed since childhood. I never liked them, but I'd never complained either. What was the point?
Across the table, I couldn't help but notice how Collin leaned toward Bianca, his fingers carefully removing each scallion from her portion. The tenderness in his movements was something I'd never seen directed at me, not once in all our years together. He'd never even noticed I disliked them.
'You don't like scallions?' Cyrus's quiet voice broke through my thoughts.
I glanced up, startled. 'No, I—it's fine. I just...' I gestured vaguely at the pile beside my bowl.
Cyrus watched me for a moment longer than necessary, his expression unreadable, before returning to his own meal.
The rest of breakfast passed in tense silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. I was relieved when it ended, escaping to the laundry room where I had duties to complete.
I was sorting through the day's linens when a shadow fell across my work. I looked up to find Bianca leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. She wore Collin's old training jacket—the one with his pack insignia and scent still embedded in the fabric.
'Well, well,' she purred, her voice laced with venom. 'Look at you, little Omega, suddenly living in luxury. Did you think moving to the Lycan wing would make you special?'
I continued sorting, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response.
'Years I spent with Collin, and he never once brought me there,' she continued, stepping closer. 'And yet here you are, with your pathetic little wolf pup and your sad devotion, somehow worming your way into places you don't belong.'
I folded a white sheet with deliberate care, my hands steady despite the anger building in my chest. When I finished, I looked up at her, meeting her gaze without flinching.
'I have work to do,' I said simply, and walked past her toward the door.
As I brushed by her, she hissed, 'This isn't over, Lia. You're still nothing but an Omega playing dress-up.'
I didn't look back, but for the first time in years, her words didn't cut as deeply as they should have. Something was changing inside me—something that had begun the moment I'd seen that scarf and condom, and had continued with every small kindness Cyrus had shown me since.
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