Chapter 133: Beta or Omega?

Adeline’s POV~

I shoved the heavy velvet blanket aside and slid my bare feet onto the cold marble floor. For a terrifying second, my knees wobbled beneath me, threatening to give out completely.

I had to reach out and grip the edge of the carved wooden bed until the sudden, violent wave of dizziness finally passed.

My fingers rose automatically to my throat, clasping the cold metal of the pendant.

I tucked it safely beneath the collar of the oversized shirt, letting out a slow, shuddering breath as it settled against my skin.

Back in hiding. Again.

I forced my legs to move, walking over to the small, elegant table tucked into the left corner of the room, and sank down onto the velvet couch.

The silver trays left by the servants were still steaming. On them rested thick slices of warm, buttered bread, roasted meat glistening in a rich brown sauce, and a deep bowl of spiced soup that smelled so intensely savory my empty stomach clenched in protest.

I picked up the silver spoon and took a cautious sip.

The broth was rich, thick, and burning hot. It trailed a trail of fire all the way down my throat, grounding me in the reality of the room.

I leaned my head back against the cushions and looked around.

The ceiling arched high above me, painted in deep, moody shades of charcoal and midnight blue.

A massive bed draped in heavy, dark velvet sheets dominated the center of the room, and thick, plush carpets muffled every sound. Everything was dead quiet, impossibly expensive, and utterly, suffocatingly perfect.

This is not my place, a cold voice whispered in my head. I don’t belong here.

Unable to sit still, I stood up and walked across the room to the floor-to-ceiling glass window at the far end. I reached out and pulled the heavy velvet curtains aside.

Outside, the night was rolling over the estate like a physical weight. Heavy, dark clouds crawled across the sky, swallowing the stars one by one until the world outside was pitch black.

And as the dark closed in, my mind drifted—as it always did lately—back to the one thing that wouldn’t let me breathe.

The note.

I turned away from the glass and walked briskly over to the nightstand. My phone lay there, fully charged and resting face down.

I picked it up, flipped it over, and popped open the solid-colored phone case. Tucked securely into the thin, hidden fold at the back was a small, folded piece of paper.

I pulled it out with trembling fingers, treating it like it might shatter.

It was a plain, cheap sheet of white notebook paper, folded neatly into four squares. I unfolded it carefully, my eyes scanning the handwritten ink for the hundredth time.

"I know you didn’t come out of the academy because you didn’t believe me when I said I know about your parents, but that is the truth. But I understand you can’t just trust anyone who just walks up and claims they know about your family history. So, I will tell you something that will make you believe me. Your mom is Omega Scarlett. I know her. I know your parents. I know what really happened to them."

At the bottom, scrawled in neat, sharp strokes, was a single phone number.

My fingers tightened around the paper until the edges crumpled.

"Omega Scarlett," I whispered into the empty, silent room.

I read the name a second time. Then a third.

Omega. The word echoed mockingly in my skull. It says omega.

I dropped heavily onto the edge of the couch, my chest tightening.

"That doesn’t make any sense," I muttered to myself, shaking my head. "The archives said beta. The old registry ledgers locked away in the academy basement... I saw them with my own eyes. It was clearly, explicitly written there. Beta Scarlett. Not omega."

So which piece of paper was telling the truth? Which one was a vicious, calculated lie? Was I chasing ghosts down the wrong path this entire time?

"Maybe the note is a prank," I said aloud, my voice sounding small and desperate in the cavernous room.

"Maybe whoever wrote this is just trying to play a sick, twisted game with me. But... how could a stranger possibly know my mother’s real name? It can’t just be a coincidence. It’s too specific. Unless..."

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Unless they were talking about two completely different people.

I pushed myself off the couch and started pacing the Persian rug, marching back and forth, back and forth, holding the folded note so tightly my knuckles turned white.

"I am an omega," I murmured, my hand flying up to brush against the hidden pendant beneath my shirt.

"That’s what my scent says to the world. So if my mother was an omega too, then that actually makes genetic sense. A wolf’s bloodline, its rank, may passes down through the generations. It would explain why I’ve always felt so weak..."

I swallowed hard, a lump of dread forming in my throat.

"But if that’s true, why do the academy ledgers list a Beta Scarlett? Is it a totally different person? It has to be." I stopped pacing, my brow furrowing deeply.

"The records said they had two children, and their names were... Ashley and Hailey. That’s why my name was never in those ledgers. They must be two entirely different families. Beta Scarlett is a different woman from Omega Scarlett."

I let out a harsh, frustrated breath.

"God, I don’t even know if a person like that actually exists with the exact same name! I can’t just blindly trust a random note left by a ghost."

I collapsed back onto the couch, staring down at the ink lines as if the paper could suddenly speak.

"Who are you?" I whispered into the quiet, my voice cracking slightly.

"Who actually sent this to me? How do you know my mother’s name? How do you know anything about what happened to them? Is someone using my desperation against me just because they know I’m pathetic enough to bite?"

Then, the heavier, uglier truth hit me right behind the eyes.

"I don’t even remember her face."

That was the thought that always cut the deepest, sharpest wound. I had no memories of my mother. Just her name. No old photographs to look at, no sound of a lullaby, no voice stored in my head. Nothing.

And my father? Who in the world was he? Where did they vanish to? Why did they abandon me in that Crescent pack house with nothing but bruises and silence?

"Who the hell are my real parents?!"

The cry tore out of my throat before I could stop it, echoing off the high, dark ceiling. Panicked, I clapped both hands over my mouth, my wide eyes darting toward the heavy oak door. I froze, holding my breath, terrified that a guard or the dowager luna had heard my breakdown.