Chapter 24 The Price of Being Chosen

The event changed things.

Not dramatically overnight.

Worse.

Subtly.

Which meant the shift spread faster.

By the following week, clips from the institute presentation had circulated through professional groups connected to the event. A few short excerpts of Ananya answering questions confidently during the discussion panel gained unexpected attention online after one of the attendees uploaded them publicly.

Nothing viral.

Nothing outrageous.

Just enough.

Enough for people to begin associating her name with something beyond gossip.

Ironically, that only intensified the conversations surrounding her.

Because society tolerated an Omega becoming interesting.

What it struggled accepting was an Omega becoming independently impressive.

Especially one already connected to a powerful Alpha publicly.

At the institute, the atmosphere around Ananya changed in uneven ways.

Some people became warmer.

Others colder.

A few openly resentful.

The difference became obvious quickly.

During lunch one afternoon, Ananya entered the common discussion lounge only to feel conversation falter almost immediately near one of the tables.

Not silence.

That was worse.

The kind of half-lowered voices meant to remain overheard.

“She became arrogant recently.”

“Well, attention changes people.”

“I still think Rathore’s influence helped her get noticed.”

Ananya kept walking without reacting outwardly.

But something sharp settled beneath her ribs anyway.

Not pain.

Recognition.

This was how society punished women who stopped behaving conveniently.

The moment they stood too confidently on their own, people searched desperately for reasons their success must belong to someone else.

Beside her, Rhea muttered darkly, “I could commit crimes right now.”

Ananya almost smiled faintly.

Almost.

“Don’t,” she said quietly. “I need at least one emotionally stable friend.”

“Then unfortunately you chose poorly.”

They settled near the far side of the lounge with their trays while conversation slowly resumed behind them.

Rhea watched Ananya carefully for a moment.

“You’re calmer than I expected.”

“I’m tired.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

No.

It wasn’t.

Ananya looked down at the untouched coffee in front of her.

In her previous life, comments like these would have devastated her completely. She would have spent nights replaying every interaction anxiously, desperate to repair opinions before criticism grew worse.

Now—

the anger outweighed the insecurity.

Not because the judgment stopped hurting.

Because she finally understood how unfair it was.

That changed everything.

Before the conversation could continue, another student approached their table hesitantly.

“Ananya?”

She looked up.

“I just wanted to say your presentation was amazing,” the girl said quickly. “I’m in the marketing specialization too and honestly… it was inspiring.”

The sincerity in her expression caught Ananya off guard completely.

“Oh,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

The girl smiled awkwardly before leaving again.

Rhea leaned back in her chair afterward with visible satisfaction.

“There,” she declared. “Evidence the world contains people with functioning brains.”

But Ananya barely heard her.

Because something unexpectedly emotional had tightened inside her chest instead.

Inspiring.

No one had ever used that word for her before.

Not in her old life.

Back then she had been admired for being agreeable.

Desired for being beautiful.

Praised for being patient.

But never respected in a way that belonged entirely to her.

The realization lingered long after lunch ended.

—

Unfortunately, social tension elsewhere continued escalating too.

That weekend, Ananya attended another formal gathering with her parents—this time hosted by long-time business associates of the Sharma family. Large enough to matter socially. Intimate enough that gossip spread efficiently between guests.

From the moment they arrived, she sensed the atmosphere immediately.

People were watching her.

Again.

Only now the attention carried something new beneath it.

Comparison.

Several Alphas approached her throughout the evening with carefully polite interest, far bolder than before. Men who previously ignored her almost entirely now suddenly seemed eager to begin conversations.

Ananya understood the reason instantly.

Scarcity created value socially.

The moment Arjun Rathore began openly prioritizing her attention, others followed instinctively.

The realization disgusted her.

“You’ve become popular suddenly,” her cousin Nisha murmured beside her while observing another approaching conversation attempt from across the room.

“I hate every second of it.”

Nisha laughed softly. “That’s because you still think attention and affection are related.”

The statement startled Ananya enough that she looked over sharply.

Nisha only shrugged faintly.

“Most of these people don’t actually know you,” she continued. “They’re reacting to status movement.”

Painfully accurate.

Before Ananya could respond, another familiar voice entered smoothly nearby.

“I was wondering how long it would take before someone said something intelligent tonight.”

She turned.

Arjun.

Something inside her reacted instantly at the sight of him despite every effort toward self-control.

Dangerous.

Always dangerous.

He greeted her parents politely before his gaze settled briefly on her.

And immediately sharpened slightly.

“You look exhausted.”

Nisha made a deeply entertained sound under her breath.

Ananya ignored her deliberately.

“I’m surviving.”

“Barely, apparently.”

The familiarity in his tone warmed her more than it should have.

Unfortunately, it also attracted attention instantly from surrounding guests.

She noticed it immediately.

The glances.

The subtle shifts in nearby conversations.

People were watching them openly now.

And suddenly Ananya felt very, very tired again.

Arjun seemed to realize it too.

His expression changed almost imperceptibly.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“That answer stopped being convincing weeks ago.”

Normally, she might have deflected again.

Tonight, however, frustration had already accumulated too heavily throughout the week.

So instead she said quietly:

“I’m tired of feeling observed everywhere.”

Something cold entered his expression immediately.

Not toward her.

Toward the situation itself.

“They’re staring,” she admitted softly. “Constantly.”

For a brief moment, silence stretched between them beneath the distant music and conversation filling the hall.

Then Arjun did something unexpected.

He stepped slightly closer.

Not dramatically.

Not possessively.

Simply enough that his presence beside her became unmistakably intentional to everyone watching.

The room seemed to notice instantly.

Ananya’s breath caught faintly.

“What are you doing?” she asked under her breath.

His response came calmly.

“Making them stop pretending they’re subtle.”

Her pulse stumbled painfully.

Because she realized suddenly—

he was angry for her.

Not embarrassed.

Not uncomfortable.

Angry.

The understanding affected her more deeply than it should have.

Nearby whispers shifted almost immediately through the room.

But this time, something different happened.

No one approached.

No one interrupted.

No one attempted another conversation under the excuse of politeness.

Because Arjun’s stance beside her made one thing unmistakably clear:

his attention toward Ananya was no longer ambiguous.

And somehow that terrified her more than gossip itself.

Not because she disliked it.

Because part of her liked it too much.

Later that evening, after escaping briefly onto one of the quieter outdoor terraces, Ananya finally exhaled properly for what felt like the first time all night.

The garden below shimmered softly beneath warm decorative lights while distant music drifted through the open terrace doors behind her.

A few moments later, footsteps approached.

Of course.

“You disappear a lot lately,” Arjun observed quietly.

“You keep finding me anyway.”

A faint smile touched his expression briefly.

Then faded when he studied her face properly.

“You’re overwhelmed.”

The gentleness in his voice nearly undid her composure completely.

Because she was.

Not merely from gossip.

From him.

From what all this was becoming.

“I don’t know how to exist inside this properly,” she admitted finally.

Arjun stayed quiet.

So she continued softly.

“Everyone keeps treating this like some romantic story they can watch unfold comfortably.” Her fingers tightened slightly against the terrace railing. “But for me it feels… dangerous.”

The last word came out almost fragile.

For several moments, he said nothing.

Then:

“Because you think you’ll lose yourself again.”

Ananya looked at him sharply.

His gaze remained steady.

Not confused.

Not surprised.

Understanding.

And somehow that hurt worst of all.

Because he saw too much now.

“Yes,” she whispered.

The honesty lingered between them beneath the night air.

Arjun stepped closer slowly then, careful enough that she could have moved away easily if she wanted.

She didn’t.

“That won’t happen,” he said quietly.

Ananya almost laughed.

Not cruelly.

Sadly.

“You can’t promise that.”

“No,” he admitted softly. “But I can promise I’ll notice if it starts happening.”

The words shattered something fragile inside her chest completely.

Because once upon a time—

all she had ever wanted was someone who noticed.