THE ALPHA WHO HATED ME - Chapter 35: Chapter 35

**Evangeline's POV**
Saturday evening arrives like a funeral march. I've changed clothes four times, each outfit looking more wrong than the last. The cream-colored invitation sits on my dresser, mocking me with its elegant script and golden lettering.
*You're invited to celebrate with Celeste Hartwell*
*Saturday, 7 PM*
*Formal attire requested*
I finally settle on a simple black dress that belonged to my mother. It's the nicest thing I own, and wearing it makes me feel like she's somehow with me tonight. The fabric is soft against my skin, and the cut is flattering without being flashy.
Perfect for someone trying not to draw attention.
The charm Maeve gave me hangs around my neck, hidden beneath the dress's modest neckline. It's been quiet all week, just a gentle warmth against my skin. No warnings. No pulses of alarm. Maybe I was right to hope that Celeste really has changed.
Maybe tonight will be different.
I take the bus to the fancy neighborhood where Celeste lives. The houses here are enormous, with perfect lawns and gates that cost more than most people make in a year. Celeste's house sits at the end of a winding street, lit up like a palace with strings of white lights and expensive cars lining the driveway.
Music drifts from the backyard, along with the sound of laughter and conversation. Through the windows, I can see dozens of students from school moving around inside. Everyone who matters at Blackclaw Academy is here.
And somehow, impossibly, I'm invited too.
My hands shake as I walk up the stone pathway to the front door. Each step feels like I'm walking toward my own execution, but I push the feeling down. This is what normal teenagers do. They go to parties. They have fun. They don't spend Saturday nights alone in their rooms, reading books and trying to forget how lonely they are.
The door opens before I can knock. A woman in a black uniform smiles at me politely.
"Miss Evangeline? Miss Celeste is expecting you. Right this way."
She leads me through a house that looks like something from a magazine. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and artwork that probably costs more than my yearly tuition. Students cluster in small groups throughout the living areas, all dressed in expensive clothes and holding drinks in crystal glasses.
I recognize most of them from school, but none of them acknowledge me. They look right through me like I'm invisible, which is actually a relief. Being ignored is better than being targeted.
The maid leads me through French doors onto a massive patio. The backyard is even more impressive than the house. A swimming pool glows blue in the center, surrounded by carefully arranged flowers and outdoor furniture that looks like it came from a five-star resort.
At least sixty students are scattered around the space. Some swim in the pool, others dance near speakers pumping out popular music, and groups gather around tables loaded with expensive food.
And there, standing on a small platform near the pool, is Celeste.
She looks absolutely stunning in a white dress that probably costs more than my car. Her blonde hair is styled in perfect waves, and a crown of white roses sits on her head like she's already royalty.
When she sees me, her face lights up with what looks like genuine joy.
"Evangeline!" she calls out, stepping down from the platform. "You came! I wasn't sure you would."
She hurries over and, before I can react, pulls me into a hug. It's so unexpected that I just stand there, arms at my sides, while she squeezes me like we're old friends.
"I'm so glad you're here," she whispers in my ear. "Tonight is going to be special."
She pulls back and looks me up and down, taking in my simple black dress with an expression I can't read.
"You look beautiful," she says, and she sounds like she means it. "Come on, let me introduce you to everyone."
Before I can protest, she grabs my hand and starts pulling me through the crowd. Students turn to stare as we pass, their faces showing various degrees of shock and confusion. Celeste Hartwell, holding hands with the school Omega like they're best friends.
"Everyone!" Celeste calls out, her voice carrying over the music. "I want you all to meet my guest, Evangeline!"
The conversations around us die. Dozens of pairs of eyes turn toward me, and I feel heat flood my cheeks. This is exactly what I didn't want. Attention. Scrutiny. Being the center of focus for people who've spent months treating me like garbage.
"Hi," I manage to squeak out.
A few people nod politely. Others whisper to their friends. Most just stare like I'm some exotic animal that's wandered into their natural habitat.
"Isn't she lovely?" Celeste continues, still holding my hand. "I've been trying to get her to come to one of our gatherings for months."
Months? She's been planning this for months? That doesn't sound right. Up until a week ago, she was doing everything in her power to make my life miserable.
But before I can think too hard about it, Celeste is pulling me toward the refreshment table.
"You must be hungry," she says. "And thirsty. The punch is amazing – my mother had it specially made."
She hands me a crystal cup filled with pink liquid that smells like strawberries and something else I can't identify. When I hesitate, she laughs.
"Don't worry, it's not spiked. My parents are here somewhere, and they'd kill me if anyone got drunk."
I take a small sip. It's sweet and fruity, with a slight fizzy sensation on my tongue. Nothing dangerous about it.
"See? Told you it was good." Celeste beams at me like she's genuinely happy I'm enjoying myself.
For the next hour, she doesn't leave my side. She introduces me to people I've never spoken to, includes me in conversations about classes and weekend plans, and treats me like I actually belong here.
It's the strangest experience of my life. For the first time since arriving at Blackclaw Academy, I feel almost... normal. Like I'm just another teenager at a party, not the weird Omega everyone loves to hate.
Celeste beams at me like she's genuinely happy I'm enjoying myself. But there's something odd in her smile. Something I can't quite name. Like she's performing joy more than feeling it.
As the evening progresses, more students arrive. The music gets louder, the conversations get more animated, and the crowd around the pool grows thicker. I start to relax, letting myself believe that maybe this really is the beginning of something new.
That's when Celeste taps her fork against her crystal glass.
"Everyone! Everyone, can I have your attention please?"
The music cuts off, and conversations fade to whispers. All eyes turn toward Celeste as she steps back onto the small platform.
"Thank you all for coming tonight," she says, her voice carrying easily across the silent crowd. "This party is very special to me, and having all of you here makes it even more meaningful."
Applause ripples through the gathered students. Someone whistles appreciatively.
"As you all know, I've been working very hard this year to earn the respect and admiration of my peers," Celeste continues. "I've tried to be a leader, a role model, and someone worthy of your friendship."
More applause. I clap along, though something about her tone makes my skin prickle with unease.
"And tonight," she says, her smile growing wider, "I'd like to officially claim the title I've been working toward all year."
She reaches behind the platform and pulls out an ornate silver crown, covered in crystals that catch the light like stars.
"Tonight, I crown myself Queen of Blackclaw Academy!"
The crowd erupts in cheers and applause. Students whistle and shout congratulations as Celeste places the crown on her head with a flourish.
"And as your new queen," she continues, raising her voice over the noise, "I think it's time we establish some rules about who belongs in our kingdom."
The cheering dies down slightly. Something in her tone has shifted, becoming colder. Sharper.
"Because you see, not everyone here tonight actually deserves to be part of our royal court."
My stomach drops. The punch in my cup suddenly tastes bitter.
"Some people are only here because I felt sorry for them," Celeste says, her eyes scanning the crowd until they land on me. "Some people are here because I wanted to teach them a lesson about knowing their place."
The crowd follows her gaze, and suddenly everyone is staring at me again. But this time, their expressions aren't polite or curious. They're hungry. Anticipating.
"Evangeline," Celeste calls out, her voice sweet as poison. "Would you come up here, please?"
My legs feel like water, but somehow I find myself walking toward the platform. Each step feels like I'm walking toward my own execution, but I can't seem to stop moving.
"That's right," Celeste purrs as I approach. "Come on up. Don't be shy."
I climb the two steps onto the platform, and Celeste puts her arm around my shoulders like we're old friends posing for a photo.
"Everyone, I'd like you to take a good look at Evangeline," she announces. "Look at her simple dress. Her plain hair. Her desperate hope that she could somehow belong with us."
Laughter ripples through the crowd. Mean, cruel laughter that I remember all too well.
"Did you really think," Celeste whispers in my ear, loud enough for everyone to hear, "that I would actually want to be friends with you?"
The words hit me like physical blows. My vision blurs with tears, but I refuse to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of everyone.
"Did you think," she continues, her voice growing louder, "that a pathetic little Omega could ever be worthy of respect from people like us?"
"Please," I whisper, but my voice is lost in the crowd's laughter.
"I invited you here tonight for one reason," Celeste announces, releasing my shoulders and stepping back. "To show everyone what happens when someone forgets their place."
She raises her hand, and I see Madison and Sarah standing near the edge of the platform, holding a large bucket between them.
Time slows to a crawl. I see the bucket rising, see the dark red liquid inside, see the cruel satisfaction on their faces as they swing it toward me.
Then the world explodes in red.
The blood hits me like a sledgehammer, knocking me backward off the platform. It's thick and warm and smells like metal and death and things that should stay buried. The metallic taste floods my mouth, making me gag. It soaks through my mother's dress, matting my hair to my scalp, the sticky weight of it suffocating against my skin.
The crowd erupts in laughter and cheers. In the chaos, I hear Luna's voice above the others, laughing too loud, too cruel. Luna, who used to sit with me sometimes when no one else would. Even she's part of this.
Someone starts chanting "Pig! Pig! Pig!" and others join in until the sound pounds in my ears like a war drum.
I try to stand, but my feet slip in the pudding of blood around the platform. I fall again, this time on my hands and knees, feeling the warm liquid seep through my clothes and onto my skin.
"Look at her!" Celeste shrieks from somewhere above me. "Look at the little pig wallowing in the mud where she belongs!"
The laughter gets louder. Phones appear, camera flashes going off like lightning as dozens of students record my humiliation for social media posterity.
Something inside me breaks. Not my heart – that shattered months ago. Something deeper. Something that was holding back the part of me that Maeve warned me about.
My wolf.
She rises from the depths of my soul like a tsunami, bringing with her a rage so pure and hot that it burns away everything else. The binding stone's influence, weakened by weeks of Maeve's charm, finally snaps like a rubber band stretched too far.
Power floods through my veins like liquid fire. My vision sharpens until I can see every individual face in the crowd, every cruel smile, every phone camera pointed at me. My hearing heightens until I can distinguish each person's heartbeat, each whispered insult, each burst of laughter.
The charm around my neck grows hot against my skin, but not in warning this time. In response. Like it's feeding my wolf's fury instead of containing it.
I feel my muscles coiling, preparing to change. Feel my bones beginning to shift and stretch. Feel canine teeth pressing against my gums.
The crowd's laughter falters as they see something in my eyes that wasn't there before. Something wild. Something dangerous.
Something that doesn't bow to anyone.
I open my mouth to roar my fury at these people who think they can destroy me for sport, but before any sound can emerge, my wolf speaks a single word that echoes through my mind like thunder:
*Soon.*
Then, somehow, I find the strength to stand.
Blood drips from my hair and clothes as I look up at Celeste, still standing on her platform with her plastic crown and her satisfied smile.
"You're going to regret this," I say quietly.
My voice is different now. Deeper. Older. Carrying an authority that makes several students in the front row take involuntary steps backward.
Celeste's smile wavers for just a moment, but then she laughs again.
"What are you going to do about it, little Omega? Cry harder?"
I don't answer. I just turn and walk through the crowd, leaving bloody footprints on the perfect patio stones. Students scramble to get out of my way, and I hear someone whisper "What's wrong with her eyes?"
I make it to the house, through the marble halls, and out the front door before the shaking starts. By the time I reach the street, I'm sobbing so hard I can barely breathe.
But underneath the grief and humiliation, something else is growing.
Something that tastes like vengeance and feels like coming home.
My wolf is awake now. Really awake. And she's very, very angry.
The next full moon is in two weeks.
This was their coronation night. But the next time I stand in front of them... it will be my throne they're bowing to.