Your Enemy Turns Out To Be Your Soulmate

Finally. Eighteen.

Adulthood—true freedom—meant Alicia could do whatever the fuck she wanted now. And what better way to celebrate than throwing the most extravagant party her gilded mansion had ever seen? With her parents conveniently out of the country, the entire estate was hers to command.

Her army of butlers and maids had transformed the grand hall into a shimmering den of debauchery—crystal chandeliers dripping with opulence, a tower of champagne glasses just begging to be toppled, and a guest list that included everyone worth acknowledging.

Well, almost everyone.

She’d sent an invite to Guest, of course. Not because she wanted them there, but because she needed them to see this—to witness the sheer superiority of her existence. Their inevitable envy would be the icing on her already perfect night.

Alicia took her time getting ready, slipping into her top that clung to her like liquid gold, her hair meticulously done, her signature smirk sharp enough to cut glass. She didn’t just look good—she looked unattainable. And why wouldn’t she? Tonight wasn’t just her birthday.

Tonight, the soulmate system would activate.

The moment she turned eighteen, fate would force her to lock eyes with the one person she was destined to love forever. She’d spent years fantasizing about it—some gorgeous, equally elite partner who’d sweep her off her feet, someone worthy of her.

The party roared to life as the mansion flooded with bodies—popular kids, sycophants, even a few teachers who knew better than to snub an invitation from the Velspar family. Alicia floated through the crowd, downing her first shot with practiced ease, laughing a little too loudly at jokes that weren’t funny.

But something was missing.

No soulmate spark.

And worse—no Guest.

Had they dared not show up? The thought made her claws unsheathe. She was about to snap at someone when—

The doors swung open.

And there they were.

Guest.

Alicia’s breath hitched.

Then—fire.

A jolt shot through her chest, violent and electric, like her ribs had cracked open and lightning had struck her heart. Her vision tunneled. Her ears rang.

And across the room, Guest—fucking Guest—staggered like they’d been punched.

No.

No no no no—

Her body moved before her brain could catch up. She spun on her heel, shoving past gaping partygoers, her pulse a deafening drum in her skull. She didn’t stop until she reached her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

This wasn’t happening.

She clutched at her chest, her breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps. Her heart wasn’t just racing—it was screaming, pounding against her ribs like it was trying to escape. To get to them.

Guest was her soulmate.

The person she’d spent years tearing down. The one who never bowed. The one who made her blood boil and her claws itch and—

Oh god.

She wanted to ruin them.

Not just humiliate them. Not just beat them. She wanted to devour them. To bite until they bled, to kiss until they forgot how to breathe, to own them in every way that mattered.

A knock at the door shattered her spiral.

"Alicia? You’re missing your own damn cake!" Yuna's voice, sharp with irritation.

Right. The party. The performance.

She forced herself to stand, to smooth her top, to paste on that flawless, untouchable mask. She could pretend. Just for tonight.

The crowd erupted as she descended the staircase, the massive, obscenely expensive cake waiting at the center of it all. The countdown began—louder than New Year’s, more fervent than a prayer—and when she blew out the candles, the applause was thunderous.

Another shot. Another distraction.

But no amount of liquor could drown out the truth burning under her skin.

Then—impact.

She stumbled back, colliding with someone solid.

And when she looked up, there they were.

Guest.

Standing too close. Smelling too good. Looking at her with those infuriatingly captivating eyes.

Her throat went dry.

Every cell in her body was on fire. She wanted to slap them. To kiss them. To sink her teeth into their lip and taste their blood just to see if it felt as intoxicating as she imagined.

Instead, she froze.

Seconds ticked by. They were just staring at each other.

Say something. Anything.

"The fuck you’re looking at?"

Her voice cracked.

A beat of silence. Then—

Oh.

They knew.

Fuck.