The late morning brings even more chaos than Nyra anticipated. Luna Selene arrives promptly at eleven with an entire team in--two professional stylists, a makeup artist, a hair specialist, and rolling racks of clothing that quickly overwhelm the living room.

Boxes of accessories and shoes clutter the floor. The once-messy condo transforms into a high-end makeshift salon.

"Sit, dear," Selene commands gently, guiding Nyra into a chair. "We have a lot of work to do if you’re going to look like the future Luna."

Nyra groans internally.

Nyra has to sit through hours of transformation with gritted teeth. They wash her golden-brown hair with luxurious products, then the stylist blows it out into soft, curly waves that fall over her shoulders, framing her face.

Makeup follows, nothing too much, just a touch-up on her pretty face.

The dress they select is absolutely stunning--a deep green dress that hugs her body, accentuating her figure without being overly revealing.

Nyra stands before the full-length mirror they brought in, staring at her reflection. The girl--no, the woman--looking back at her is unrecognizable.

She’s never been that confident in her looks. Unlike Anna, who’s always been prancing around with her blonde curls. But she has to admit--she looks extremely beautiful like this.

She feels the bond hum faintly with reluctant approval from somewhere deep inside her--before Adrian even emerges from his room.

He’s always been one of the most handsome men in Moon-Crest, so it’s not a surprise how good he looks too.

He adjusts the cuffs of his crisp black button-down shirt paired with tailored charcoal slacks that hug his athletic frame perfectly.

He stops dead in the hallway when he sees Nyra.

His silver eyes widen, lips parting slightly in genuine, unguarded shock. For several long, breathless seconds, he is completely speechless, the bond flooding with raw surprise, heat, and a flash of something possessive he tries and fails to mask immediately.

"You..." Adrian clears his throat roughly, voice lower and huskier than usual. "My mum did a damn good job."

Nyra feels her cheeks warm as she rolls her eyes. Yes, it’s definitely his mom’s doing. Not because she’s pretty.

Selene claps her hands delightedly, eyes sparkling. "See? You two already have chemistry whether you admit it or not."

She comes closer. "Just remember to act like the perfect couple for the cameras. Smile, hold hands, support each other. The pack needs to see unity."

Adrian tears his gaze away from Nyra with visible effort, his ears tinging slightly red. "Yeah. Whatever. Let’s just get this circus over with."

The next hour passes in a blur of last-minute instructions from Selene--how to hold hands naturally, what answers to give, how to smile without looking forced.

Nyra’s nerves are burning, but Adrian’s rare speechless reaction lingers in her mind, stirring unwanted warmth through the bond.

Yeah, definitely the wolves’ fault.

The press conference by six is overwhelming chaos.

The academy hall is packed wall-to-wall with reporters from pack media outlets, bright cameras flash relentlessly, while curious pack members cram into the back rows whispering excitedly.

Nyra’s heart hammers against her ribs as she and Adrian step onto the small raised stage together, hand in hand as instructed. His palm is warm and calloused from months of training.

The contact sends persistent, unwanted sparks racing up their arms and through the mate bond.

The Goddess must really enjoy toying with them by giving such a reactive bond.

Questions erupt the moment they’re in position.

"Alpha heir Adrian! Is the mate bond with Nyra genuine or merely damage control after that viral video?"

"Why was another woman--the future Luna’s own sister--on your lap in the footage? Is the bond already failing?"

"Nyra, how does it feel going from being labeled the ’defective’ omega to suddenly standing as future Luna? Any comment on the rumors?"

Adrian steps forward first, squeezing her hand in what feels almost like reassurance. His voice is steady and commanding as he addresses the crowd.

"Nyra is my true Goddess-chosen mate. The video was taken completely out of context during a private celebration. We are fully committed to honoring the sacred bond and leading the pack together with strength and unity."

Nyra swallows hard, drawing on every ounce of composure from the makeover and the bond’s steadying presence.

She finds her voice. "The Goddess doesn’t make mistakes, no matter what rumors say. We’re learning to navigate this new reality together, and we humbly ask for the pack’s support and patience as we do so."

The questions fly faster and more aggressively. A reporter shoves a microphone closer. "Sources confirm Adrian has been openly involved with Anna for years. Is Nyra simply a placeholder to satisfy tradition?"

Adrian’s grip tightens noticeably on her hand. "Anna and I share history, but the bond with Nyra is sacred and undeniable. We are moving forward as true mates. The past is the past."

The questions get thrown left, right, and center, and somehow they end up in sync. It continues for another good few minutes, before Alpha Darius eventually steps in from the side to close the conference smoothly.

He thanks the media and declares the future Alpha pair officially united and committed.

They escape the stage together with security guiding them through the back and into the waiting black SUV before any of the reporters can meet them.

The ride back to the condo is mercifully quiet, both of them drained from the performance and the emotional toll.

Nyra stares out the window, replaying every question and every squeeze of Adrian’s hand. Every shared look.

Somehow, the bond feels alive today, pulsing happily between them.

Back inside the condo, Nyra immediately kicks off the uncomfortable heels with a deep, relieved groan, flexing her sore feet against the cool floor.

"That was an absolute nightmare. John should’ve been the one on that stage. He’s the one who posted the video without checking after all."

Adrian doesn’t respond, loosening his collar and the top buttons of his shirt, watching her from across the living room.

He stares at the way the dress still clings beautifully to her frame, and a very stupid thought crosses his mind.

"She’s even prettier than Anna..."

Adrian seems to realize the full weight of his words at the same moment. His own ears turn noticeably red, and he almost slaps himself for even thinking about his girlfriend’s sister like this.

What the fuck is he doing? Anna has been his girl for almost two years. She’s the one he loves.

He ignores the sad whine his wolf gives at the thought, tearing his gaze from her.

"What kind of pizza do you want?" He asks, scrolling through his phone.

Nyra pauses, genuinely shocked at the question. "W-what?"

He doesn’t--refuses--to look up at her. "Well, I can’t finish an entire box, so I better get something we can both eat." He sighs. "Or you don’t want it?"

"I like chicken with lots of cheese. Any other topping is fine." She says under her breath as he types his order.

Nyra goes to her room to change, but it’s absolutely useless. She can’t reach the rope at the back of the dress.

She already dreads asking Adrian, but she doesn’t really have a choice.

She exhales loudly, coming back into the living room, where Adrian’s still spread across the couch.

"Can you help me?" She nudges at the dress. "I’m stuck."

He doesn’t respond for a beat, and Nyra almost thinks he’s ignoring her before he groans and stands.

He comes up behind her, his skin warm as his fingers find the stubborn knot at the back of the dress. His fingers brush her bare back as he loosens the rope, sending sparks up their skin at the contact.

The room suddenly feels too hot.

Nyra glances up and catches Adrian already looking at her intently. His gaze flickers briefly to her lips, up her eyes, then back to her lips again.

He leans in, the air crackling between them like a live wire. Nyra’s heart is pounding so hard in her cjest. Adrian is about to kiss..

Three heavy knocks from behind the door slices through the moment like a knife. The pizza man is here.

Adrian jumps back like he’s been burned, clearing his throat. "I’ll get it!" He mutters under his breath before strolling toward the door.

He takes the box and closes the door. But as he turns, he sees Nyra’s phone buzzing loudly on the couch, the screen flashing brightly in the dim room:

ONE MISSED CALL FROM JULIAN.

There’s also a message:

Julian: See you tomorrow, pretty?

His expression darkens instantly, jaw tightening with jealousy and rage.

Who the fuck is Julian!?