Chapter 4: Cracks in the Mask

Ella’s POV

“Keep your chin up, Ella. Don’t look weak.”

Lyra’s voice echoed in my head, sharp as the click of her heels against the marble floor this morning. I had nodded then, obedient as always, but now… now my chin refused to lift. It trembled, like the rest of me.

I hurried across the courtyard, keeping my head down, clutching the wooden sword to my side until my palms ached. My legs shook so badly that I was certain someone would notice. I prayed no one did.

The yard emptied fast, students laughing, boasting, or grumbling about bruises as they disappeared through the arches. Their voices seemed distant to me, muffled by the pounding of my heart.

All I could hear, over and over, was his voice.

“You fight like someone terrified of being seen.”

He saw it. He saw me.

The thought coiled around my chest, tightening until I could barely breathe. For one terrifying moment, I thought I would collapse right there in the open.

I forced my legs to keep moving, past the fountain, past the stone wall streaked with ivy. Only when I reached the far side of the academy grounds did I let myself stop, pressing my back against the cold stone. My breath tore free in ragged gasps, my nails digging crescents into my palms.

Gods, what had I done?

I nearly gave myself away.

If Alex had pressed harder, if he had asked one more question, demanded one more answer, I would have shattered. I could feel it in my bones. My mask was too thin, too fragile. One slip, and everything would crumble.

And then what?

What would he do if he found out that I wasn’t Lyra Darius, the Alpha’s treasured daughter, but Ella—the nobody omega forced into her skin?

Would he laugh? Expose me to the others? Or would he destroy me before I could speak?

No. I knew the answer.

The way he looked at me, the venom in his words when he spoke Lyra’s name… Alex hated her. He hated her enough to watch her stumble, to want to tear her apart piece by piece. His voice had dripped with it.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Lyra. For years.”

The words replayed in my mind, each syllable searing hot against my skin. He thought I was her. He thought I was the daughter of the man who had taken something from him.

But what?

I didn’t know. Lyra had never spoken of her father beyond spoiled boasts, and no one in the servants’ quarters dared whisper about the Alpha’s past. But Alex’s eyes… those eyes carried something ancient. Something personal.

And it was aimed at me.

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, hot and humiliating. I pressed the back of my hand against them, refusing to let them fall. Not here. Not where anyone could see.

I was invisible, always invisible. Omegas didn’t cry where others could mock them. We learned to swallow pain until it festered inside. But this wasn’t a bruise or a sharp word from Lyra. This was different. This was terror.

Because Alex wasn’t a fool. He wasn’t like the others who jeered at my clumsy grip or laughed when Rowan’s strikes rattled my bones. Alex noticed things. He had seen past the mask already, just enough to make me tremble.

If he kept looking… if he kept pressing…

I would break.

The bell rang in the distance, a low, resonant chime signaling the next class. Students would be gathering in the lecture hall, where the scent of ink and parchment clung to the air like dust. I should have gone with them, sat in Lyra’s seat, pretended once again.

But my legs refused.

I slid down the wall, curling my knees against my chest, letting the wooden sword clatter against the cobblestones. My arms wrapped tight around myself as if I could hold the mask together with sheer force of will.

I didn’t want to go back. I didn’t want to face his eyes again, or the whispers, or the weight of carrying a name that wasn’t mine.

I wanted to run. To strip off this borrowed face, this suffocating disguise, and disappear into the forest where no one could touch me.

But running wasn’t an option. Lyra had made sure of that.

Her threat echoed in my mind, colder than Alex’s stare .

“Do this for me, or I’ll make sure Father finds out what you’ve been sneaking from the pantry. You know how he feels about thieves.”

I wasn’t a thief. I only ever took scraps, crusts of bread when the hunger gnawed too sharp. But to an Alpha, truth didn’t matter. His word would be law, and an omega caught stealing was nothing but dirt to be scraped away.

So here I was. Playing a role I couldn’t sustain.

A role that might get me killed.

Footsteps echoed nearby. My body snapped upright, breath caught in my throat.

I pressed myself flatter against the wall, desperate to vanish into the ivy.

The footsteps passed—two students, their voices firm.

“can’t believe that’s Lyra Darius. She was supposed to be vicious, but she’s a mess.”

“Maybe she’s just pretending. Trying to lure us into underestimating her.”

“Ha. If that’s her plan, it’s pathetic.”

Their laughter faded into the distance, but the words stuck like splinters.

They were right. I was pathetic. Pathetic for agreeing to this, pathetic for stumbling through drills, pathetic for letting Alex’s stare unravel me.

But worse than all of it was the way my heart had leapt when his voice had dropped low, when he leaned close enough that his breath brushed my skin.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Lyra.”

It was hatred, I told myself. Nothing but hatred.

So why did it feel like something more?

Why did the memory of his eyes make my chest ache in ways I couldn’t explain?

The bell rang again, sharper this time. I forced myself to stand, every limb heavy as stone. I retrieved the sword, dust clinging to my fingers, and straightened my borrowed uniform.

The mask was cracked, but I had no choic

e but to wear it again.

Lyra’s mask.

And if Alex tore it away piece by piece, then I would fall with it.