Author's POV
The clock read 2:17 a.m. when Vesper finally moved from her curled-up position on the sofa. Her tears had dried an hour ago, leaving salt trails on her cheeks and an emptiness gnawing at her chest like a black hole.
Darius' words still echoed in her head: "weak omega," "worthless," "too pathetic." Each word stabbed like a knife, cutting away what little self-esteem she had left.
But amid the pain, something else began to grow—a cold, sharp clarity.
She walked to the small window of her apartment and stared out at the deserted street. Even in the darkness of the night, she could feel eyes watching her. The Blue Ridge guards Darius' father had placed to "protect" her. Actually, to make sure she didn't run away.
Vesper laughed bitterly. Protect? As if she were a
