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"And finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for has arrived! We are live at the bonfire party tonight!" Nicole spoke into the camera with excitement as she recorded for her blog.

Ever since the meteoric rise of The Oracle, every aspiring student journalist and gossip columnist had been scrambling to follow in her footsteps.

But no matter how hard they tried to mimic her style, none could match the Oracle’s enigma, nor her undeniable dominance in the world of Lunaris reporting.

Still, that didn’t stop them from trying.

Nicole pivoted slightly, angling the camera toward the extravagant bonfire setup, her voice laced with awe because the Alphas were definitely not afraid to flaunt their affluence.

Her camera panned across the arena, capturing every excess and indulgence in full, glorious detail.

Unlike ordinary boarding schools, where students had to sneak around, bribe lenient staff, or risked expulsion for throwing unauthorized parties, the Cardinal Alphas did not ask for permission.

They did what they wanted.

Because at Lunaris, the Cardinal Alphas didn’t just rule the student body.

They owned it.

The bonfire arena was remote yet accessible, settled in the sprawling, shadowed clearing right next to the infamous Silver Glade, the scary woodland.

But not tonight.

Tonight, the alphas owned the darkness.

Four massive bonfires blazed in different locations, their towering flames casting golden light across the wild faces of the students.

Overhead, fairy lights were draped across tree branches, twinkling like stars. And just beyond the main fire pits, LED floodlights near the seating areas ensured that the students could see exactly who they were socializing with, but not too much to kill the thrill of the night.

The ground beneath them trembled thanks to the deep bass thundering from strategically placed speakers.

The DJ was a female elite student who stood on a massive custom setup, flipping through a killer playlist that pulsed with high-energy hip-hop, dark synth beats, and the occasional remix that made the entire crowd of students erupt in excitement.

And, of course, what was a party without alcohol?

There was no sneaking in liquor through flask-lined jackets, no plastic cups disguising contraband drinks. Instead, they were delivered in kegs and crates.

Fine liquor, expensive wines, and imported spirits, the kind of top-shelf exclusivity that only the wealthiest students could casually procure were displayed openly, handled by hired bartenders rather than students trying to mix something lethal in a plastic jug.

Nicole turned the camera toward the VIP section, where the elite students had already marked their territory.

Luxury bean bags, plush seating, and even private hammocks were strewn about for the upper echelon. They had their drinks not from communal kegs but from a private selection, poured into actual glasses, not cheap plastic.

Nicole was still narrating all of this when she caught a familiar face and her journalistic instincts flared.

It was Elsie Lancaster and she rushed over, flashing her perfectly curated on-camera smile.

Nicole wasted no time, mic in hand, she said, "Elsie Lancaster, it is exciting having you grace the party tonight! You look absolutely stunning! Could you look into the camera and say hi to the fans who are definitely digging this outfit?"

Elsie, a natural performer, smiled sweetly at the camera, lifting a hand in an effortless, graceful wave. She lived for moments like this.

And yes, Elsie did look stunning.

She wore a matching emerald-green halter top and miniskirt, the material clinging to her figure like a second skin.

The top’s delicate cut showcased her toned abs, and the short hem of her skirt emphasized the long, lean power of her legs.

As a werewolf, she was naturally hot and never had body issues.

Her slicked-back ponytail accentuated her razor-sharp cheekbones, and the gold statement earrings added a subtle flash of wealth.

Around her throat, a brand necklace, worth a small fortune caught the firelight.

Elsie had paired the look with gold-strapped stiletto heels, their delicate chains wrapping around her ankles, adding just the right touch of elegance and power.

Nicole, sensing the moment, went for the goldmine question: "Elsie, tell us, what brands are you wearing tonight? And how much does your entire look cost?"

This was exactly the kind of content her audience would eat up.

Elsie beamed, her posture straightening in delight. She was more than ready to flex on the masses.

She lifted a perfectly manicured hand, ensuring the camera captured it as she began listing her high-end ensemble, tossing out obscene price tags with ease.

"This is from the latest I-Piece collection and it’s valued at about three thousand Cedes. The necklace and earrings is from Bluemoon brand. A thousand Cedes each. Hair and makeup? Only the best..."

Nicole listened, nodding in appreciation, when her assistant urgently tapped her shoulder. Nicole followed his line of sight and saw her, just as the air shifted.

The music didn’t stop, but the conversations did as all heads turned towards her, their breath hitching.

Violet Purple had arrived.

Her black crop top hugged her frame just right, the lace detailing teasing just enough skin without overexposure, while her high-waisted, distressed skinny jeans accentuating her curves like sin, the rips on the knees and thighs adding an effortless rebellious edge.

She had a denim jacket carelessly thrown over her shoulders, giving her that "I don’t need to try" attitude that made people try harder to get her attention.

But it was the boots that sealed the deal.

Black, lace-up combat boots. They didn’t just compliment the outfit. They defined it, adding an effortless badass alpha-queen energy.

Her silver choker drew attention to the delicate slope of her neck, except only the wolves understood the vulnerability of an exposed throat. It was where dominance and submission met.

Then there was her makeup.

A smoky eye with a shimmer that made the firelight dance in her gaze, her deep berry lipstick bold, striking and defiant. And finally, that signature violet-streaked waves were tousled in that perfect, effortless way, like she had just run her fingers through it.

Even Elsie Lancaster, who had been basking in her moment of vanity, stiffened. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what just happened. One second, she was the center of attention, and the next, Violet Purple had effortlessly stolen the spotlight.

And to make it worse, Violet wasn’t alone.

Like a cinematic slow-motion entrance, her roommates, Lila, Daisy and Ivy flanked her, each looking like they had just stepped out of a teen drama where the main girl squad always outshines the rest.

Lila, wore a fitted satin mini dress in a light pink shade, her blonde hair catching the firelight. She smirked as she fluffed her hair, her expression screaming, yes, I’m hot, keep staring.

Daisy, the quiet but smart one, was wrapped in a midnight blue off-shoulder sweater dress, thigh-high boots elongating her legs to devastating perfection.

And then there was Ivy, the formerly jealous, formerly distant roommate. But tonight, she had decided to stand with them. Clad in a fitted burgundy jumpsuit with delicate gold accents, she looked like she had been born to belong among the elite yet didn’t.

The trio didn’t just enter. They conquered. And everyone knew it.

And Nicole was already ahead, tilting the camera to capture the moment in history.

Because tonight, a shift in power had occurred.