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Chapter Six

Lilianna

The Wycliffe estate came into view through the car window, its imposing Georgian facade lit by strategically placed floodlights that made the limestone appear to glow against the dark sky.

Even after twenty-three years, the sight of home made my stomach clench with familiar anxiety.

Tonight, though, the feeling was different—sharper, more urgent.

I was returning as a different person than the one who'd left just hours ago.

The sedan pulled through the iron gates and up the circular drive, coming to a stop beneath the covered portico.

I could see warm light spilling from the tall windows of my father's study, and my mother's silhouette moving past the drawing room's French doors.

They were awake, waiting. Probably celebrating.

"Thank you," I told the driver as he opened my door, his kind expression unchanged despite the late hour.

"My pleasure, miss. Have a good evening." the driver gave a small smile before leaving me.

I squared my shoulders and ascended the marble steps, each footfall echoing in the silent night. The heavy front door opened before I could reach for it, revealing Greta, our housekeeper, her eyes wide with something like wonder.

"Miss Lilianna," she whispered, stepping aside to let me enter. "Your parents are waiting in the drawing room."

Of course they were. The formal drawing room was reserved for celebrations and important guests—a clear indication of their mood. I handed Greta my light wrap, careful to keep my purse with the hidden phone clutched against my side.

"Thank you, Greta," I murmured, catching her studying me with unusual intensity.

"You look... different, miss," she observed quietly, her brow furrowing. "Are you well?"

I touched my cheek self-consciously. Could she see the change in me already? "Just a bit nervous from the meeting I had.”

Greta's expression softened with understanding. "Of course, miss. Such an important evening." She hesitated, then added in a whisper, "I hope it went well for you."

The kindness in her voice nearly undid me. Greta had been with our family since I was eight, had witnessed countless lessons in proper behavior, countless corrections and criticisms. She'd never commented before, but something in her tone suggested she understood more than she'd ever let on.

"Thank you," I managed, my voice thick with emotion I couldn't quite hide.

I made my way across the marble foyer, my heels clicking against the polished stone. The drawing room doors stood open, warm light and the sound of my parents' voices spilling into the hallway. I paused just outside, gathering myself, preparing to slip back into the role they expected.

"Lilianna!" My mother's voice rang out as I stepped into the doorway. She swept toward me with an expression of barely contained triumph, her silk evening dress rustling with each step. "Darling, come in, come in!"

My father stood beside the marble fireplace, a crystal tumbler of whiskey in his hand and satisfaction written across his features. The room felt charged with their excitement, the air thick with expectation and self-congratulation.

"How did it go?" my mother asked, though her bright smile suggested she already knew the answer. "Mr. Vale called not twenty minutes after you left the hotel."

I moved carefully into the room, my purse held close. "It went well, I think."

"Well?" My father's voice boomed with pleasure. "My dear, it went magnificently. The Vale pack has formally requested to begin courting procedures." He raised his glass in a mock toast. "To the future Mrs. Vale."

The title hung in the air, strange and foreign to my ears. It wasn't just the formality—it was the possessiveness implied in those three words. As if I were already transferring from one owner to another.

"I'm pleased they found me suitable," I said carefully, choosing words that would satisfy without revealing too much.

My mother's smile widened as she guided me to one of the cream brocade sofas. "Suitable? Julian Vale was positively enchanted." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "He said your temperament was exactly what they've been seeking. Imagine that!"

I could imagine it, though surely not in the way she meant. Julian had been seeking someone with a mind of her own, not someone buried beneath years of conditioning—not the obedient doll my mother believed she'd created.

"What did you say to them?" my father asked, his expression sharpening. "They seemed particularly impressed by your conversation."

I chose my words carefully, aware of the thin line I needed to walk. "I answered their questions honestly."

"Good girl," my mother said, patting my hand like I was a well-behaved pet. "I knew all those etiquette lessons would serve you well. Julian mentioned you were... refreshingly genuine."

I could hear the real meaning in Julian's words, though my parents clearly couldn't. What had been refreshing to him was the glimpse of my true self beneath the polished veneer—not the performance my parents had trained me to give.

"They've invited me to begin the formal courtship period next Sunday," I said, watching their reactions closely. "I'll be moving into their residence for the customary evaluation period."

My father's eyebrows shot up.

"Next Sunday? That's quite soon," he said, though his tone suggested approval rather than concern. "Eager to begin the process, are they?"

"It's actually quite traditional," my mother added, her voice taking on that lecturing tone she used when dispensing social wisdom.

"The sooner the courting begins, the sooner we can finalize the arrangement.” It made my stomach twist. But I kept my expression neutral, remembering Christopher's advice to maintain the persona they expected.

"As you wish, Mother," I said, lowering my eyes in the submissive gesture she'd trained into me.

My father crossed to the sideboard and poured another finger of whiskey. "This calls for a celebration. The Vale pack is exactly the connection we've been working toward. Their resources, their social standing—it's everything we could have hoped for."

"And you," my mother added, squeezing my arm with manicured fingers that dug into my skin just a little too hard, "have done your duty beautifully. I knew you wouldn't disappoint us."

Her words landed like stones, heavy with expectation and the weight of years spent molding me into this moment. I forced a smile, careful to keep it modest rather than eager.

"Thank you, Mother," I managed, my voice steady despite the turmoil beneath. "I hope to continue making you proud."

She beamed at me, completely missing the careful distance in my tone. "Of course you will, darling. The Vale pack won't know what hit them."

My father moved to the window, gazing out at the manicured grounds with the air of a general surveying conquered territory. "We'll need to prepare your wardrobe, of course. Can't have you arriving with anything less than perfection."

"I was thinking we should schedule appointments this week," my mother chimed in, already pulling out her phone. "New dresses, proper lingerie, perhaps a few pieces of jewelry that complement their family colors."

The casual way she discussed outfitting me like a doll made my skin crawl, but I nodded obediently. "Whatever you think is best."

My father turned back from the window, his expression growing more serious. "There are also practical matters to discuss. The Vale pack will expect detailed documentation of your upbringing, medical history, educational achievements. Everything must be in perfect order."

"I've already prepared most of the files," my mother said, her voice taking on that brisk efficiency she used for important social arrangements. "Though we should schedule one final medical examination before the transition. Make sure everything is... pristine."

The way she said 'pristine' made my stomach roll, but I kept my face carefully blank. "Of course."

"And your behavior during the courtship period will be crucial," my father continued, settling into his leather armchair with the air of someone delivering an important lecture. "You must remember that every interaction will be evaluated. Every word, every gesture, every response."

My mother nodded emphatically. "The courting period is essentially an extended interview. You'll be living under their observation, representing not just yourself but our entire family legacy. One mistake could unravel everything we've worked toward."

I folded my hands in my lap, the gesture automatic after years of practice. "I understand."

"Do you?" My father's voice sharpened, and I felt that familiar chill of his scrutiny. "Because once you're under their roof, we won't be there to guide you. You'll need to rely on your training."

The irony wasn't lost on me—they were worried about losing control just as I was about to gain it. But I kept my expression appropriately concerned. "I won't disappoint you."

"See that you don't." He took another sip of whiskey, his eyes never leaving my face. "The Vale pack has very specific expectations. Traditional values. They want an Omega who understands her place."

If they only knew. I had to keep myself from rolling my eyes and keeping my face blank.

"I'll remember everything you've taught me," I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. Let them interpret that however they chose.

My mother's expression softened slightly, though her grip on my arm remained firm. "You've been such a good daughter, Lilianna. So obedient, so dedicated to your responsibilities. The Vale pack will see immediately what a treasure they're getting."

The word 'treasure' made something twist painfully in my chest. Not a person—a treasure. Something to be acquired, displayed, possessed.

"We should discuss the logistics," my father said, settling deeper into his chair. "Moving arrangements, what you'll be permitted to take, how often we'll expect communication."

"Communication?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level.

"Naturally, we'll want regular updates," my mother explained, her tone suggesting this should be obvious.

"We'll need to know how things are progressing." Her smile was tight. "Daily calls would be appropriate, I think. Perhaps video, so we can assess your presentation. Usually courting periods is only a couple months, so it shouldn’t be too hard to do."

My stomach clenched. Even from a distance, they intended to maintain their surveillance.

"I'm not certain that will be possible," I said carefully. "The courting period is meant to establish bonds with the pack. Too much outside contact might interfere."

My father's eyes narrowed. "You'll make time for your family, Lilianna. We haven't invested twenty-three years in your development to be cut out now."

Invested. Like I was a stock portfolio they expected returns from.

"I'll do my best," I offered, the compromise bitter on my tongue.

My mother stood suddenly, smoothing her dress. "It's getting late, and you look exhausted. We have a busy week ahead—appointments to make, arrangements to finalize. Get some rest, darling."

The dismissal was clear, and I rose obediently, grateful for the reprieve. "Goodnight, Mother. Father."

"We'll continue this discussion at breakfast," my father added, his tone making it clear this wasn't optional. "Seven-thirty sharp."

I nodded and made my way from the drawing room, careful to maintain the proper posture until I was out of their sight. Only when I reached the grand staircase did I allow my shoulders to slump slightly, the weight of pretense momentarily too heavy to bear.

My bedroom was on the east wing of the second floor—a pretty cage of cream and gold, decorated with the "appropriate feminine touches" my mother had selected. Nothing too bold, nothing too distinctive. Just like me.

I closed the door behind me and leaned against it, finally alone with the enormity of what had happened today. The phone in my purse felt like it was burning a hole through the fabric, a tangible reminder that everything had changed.

I moved to my vanity and carefully removed my earrings, watching my reflection in the mirror. Did I look different? Could others see what I felt—the fracture lines spreading through the careful facade I'd maintained for so long?

With trembling fingers, I retrieved the phone from my purse and held it like something precious and dangerous. The small black device represented everything I'd never had—connection, choice, possibility. I turned it over in my hands, marveling at how something so small could feel so significant.

After ensuring my door was locked—a habit I'd developed years ago when I needed moments of true privacy—I sat on the edge of my bed and powered on the phone. The screen glowed to life, revealing a simple interface with just four contacts: Julian, Christopher, Nicolaus and Miles.

This was the start of a new chapter of my life. I looked at the numbers once more before hiding the phone where no one could find it. I wouldn’t want anyone to find it.

Not when I was this close to leaving this house.