Chapter 3
Four years passed like flowing water, and the once timid, frail little girl had completely vanished.
Standing before the mirror, I examined my seventeen-year-old self—tall, slender, with refined features.
Most importantly, my emotional perception had grown so powerful I could almost read the deepest secrets in anyone's heart. This ability became even more acute in wolf-populated environments, as if no Alpha's intimidation could mask their true emotional currents.
Today was Silvermoon Group's quarterly review meeting, and Marcus had insisted I attend.
"It's time for the board and elders to meet my treasure," he'd said, his eyes gleaming with pride.
The conference room occupied the top floor of the corporate headquarters, golden light spilling across the long table. When I entered, the gazes of a dozen elders turned toward me simultaneously, but the emotions I sensed were a mixed bag—curiosity, skepticism, jealousy, and a subtle undercurrent of hostility.
"Everyone, this is my adopted daughter, Avalon," Marcus announced, his voice carrying undeniable authority.
The meeting quickly derailed. What should have been a performance review devolved into heated arguments. Mr. Henderson and several other elders were nearly at each other's throats over the proposed layoff plan, emotions escalating to the brink of physical confrontation.
"We must cut labor costs!" An older executive slammed his palm on the table as he stood.
"Those people have been with the company for over a decade!" Mr. Henderson countered, but deep in his emotional core, I sensed his concern wasn't actually about profits.
As tensions peaked, I spoke softly: "Mr. Henderson isn't worried about the bottom line. He's concerned about how layoffs will affect those employees' lives."
The conference room fell instantly silent, all eyes turning to me. Mr. Henderson's face registered shock, then profound gratitude.
"He knows many of those employees are their families' breadwinners," I continued. "They have children to feed, mortgages to pay. Mr. Henderson fears that if we do this, we'll lose something more valuable than money—loyalty."
Marcus looked at me with dazzled admiration. "Our princess always sees what others miss."
In that moment, I felt the emotional shift throughout the room—from doubt to astonishment, from astonishment to respect. Those executives who had initially dismissed me now viewed me through an entirely different lens.
Three hours later, we arrived at the company's annual charity gala. Champagne bubbles danced in crystal flutes, designer gowns and jewelry glittered under the chandeliers—the social event of the season for wolf society's elite.
I wore a deep navy gown, my hair elegantly swept up, with a pearl necklace Evander had personally selected gleaming softly at my throat. When I entered the ballroom, I felt countless eyes turn my way, some appreciative, others envious.
"Look, the Silvermoon charity case has arrived," a cutting voice came from behind me.
I turned to see a group of young women from other wolf families huddled together, one blonde girl staring at me with undisguised malice. Her emotional waves radiated intense jealousy and resentment.
"Just an adopted orphan with nothing to be proud of," the blonde girl deliberately raised her voice to attract attention.
Before her words fully registered, three familiar figures materialized beside me.
Lysander's face was cold as ice, his voice low and dangerous: "No one speaks about her like that in my presence."
Evander's gentle smile remained in place, but his tone brooked no argument: "Please show my sister some respect."
Zephyr was the most direct, practically blurting out: "Avalon is a thousand times better than any of you!"
In that instant, I felt powerful waves of dominance radiating from all three brothers.
As Alpha and Betas, their combined presence made the surrounding wolves instinctively step back. Their protective instinct was so intense, so possessive, it made my heart race involuntarily.
The blonde girl's face drained of color, unable to muster any further provocation under such intimidation.
"Let's go," Lysander extended his arm, inviting me to take it.
On the drive home, our luxury sedan glided smoothly under the moonlight. I sat in the middle of the back seat, with Lysander to my left reviewing work documents, Zephyr already asleep on my right, and Evander sitting across from me, his gentle gaze occasionally meeting mine.
"Your hair's coming undone," Evander said softly.
I instinctively raised my hand to fix it, but his warm fingers gently stopped me.
"Let me."
His fingers moved delicately through my hair, as if handling precious porcelain. But I keenly noticed his fingers trembling slightly, his heartbeat unusually pronounced in the quiet car.
More confusing still was the complex, unfamiliar emotional wave emanating from him. It was no longer the simple affection of a brother for his sister, but something more intense that I'd never felt before.
"Avalon really is the prettiest girl ever," Zephyr mumbled, half-asleep, with unexpected sincerity in his voice.
I glanced at Evander and found his cheeks flushed, his gaze avoiding mine. This reaction was entirely new.
Why is Evander's heart beating so fast? Why am I sensing this unprecedented nervousness and... longing from him?
Moonlight streamed through the windows, bathing us in silver light. In this enclosed space, I suddenly realized something that made my own heart flutter—
I was no longer the little girl who needed protection.
And they were no longer just my brothers.
This realization struck like lightning, leaving me both confused and exhilarated by this subtle emotional shift. With my heightened perception, I clearly sensed an unfamiliar tension filling the car.
It was the scent of teenage hormones, the signal of awakening wolf instincts, an unknown feeling that both frightened and excited me.
I closed my eyes, trying to calm my racing heart, but deep inside, a voice whispered:
How will our relationship change?
