Chapter Text
The Woods were not born they were forged. Forged through centuries of ambition, silence, and sacrifice. Their name was not just respected; it was feared. Spoken with caution, with reverence, with the quiet understanding that wherever power gathered, the Woods stood at its core.
To outsiders, their name symbolized wealth, legacy, and an empire that stretched through every corner of The USA and all south and north America. To Alexandria Woods, it was the weight that lived on her shoulders invisible, unrelenting, and inescapable.
She was the eldest of five. The first daughter of the dynasty. The one destined to inherit everything her family had built, their empire, their influence, and their curse.
Her father loved her with the quiet pride of a man who saw his reflection in her strength. Her mother adored her endlessly, always reminding her that love was the one thing that could survive the coldness of power. Even her grandparents, stern, calculating, and bound by tradition cherished her, though their love not shown often but Lexa was their pride and their legacy.
Lexa grew up surrounded by warmth, and love from her family but under a rule she was never allowed to break. Lexa could travel anywhere, speak to anyone, do anything — as long as she stayed within the invisible walls they had built around her.
A Woods could touch the world.
But never a Griffin.
It was a rule carved in stone, older than her, older than even her grandparents reign. The feud was ancient, born of betrayal and loss, passed down like a sacred law.
A Woods may dine with kings, walk beside royalty, even challenge fate itself but she must never, under any circumstances, stand beside a Griffin.
The rule was so deeply ingrained that no one ever questioned it. Not even Lexa.
Until the night that everything changed......
The gala glittered like a dream sculpted from gold and glass. Crystal chandeliers scattered light across silk gowns and diamond necklaces. The scent of jasmine and champagne floated through the air. Laughter elegant, practiced, and hollow echoed beneath the vaulted ceiling.
It wasn't a Woods event, but it might as well have been. When the Woods's arrived, heads turned.
They entered as one, the image of power and poise. Her grandparents led the way, followed by her parents, and then the siblings, each a reflection of perfection in motion.
Lexa was dressed in ivory silk, her hair pulled into a sleek twist that revealed the curve of her neck. Diamonds shimmered like frost against her skin. She smiled when she was expected to, nodded where she should, and laughed softly when someone spoke to her.
To the world, she was untouchable. To herself, she was only tired.
" Smile a little more, Lexa," her younger sister Maya whispered beside her, nudging her with a teasing grin. "You look like you're attending a funeral, not a gala."
Lexa smirked faintly. " Some would say they're the same thing."
Her brother Lincoln laughed from behind them, his glass of champagne catching the light.
"She's right. You've clearly never survived one of these charity nights, Maya. It's death by small talk."
"Don't exaggerate," their sister Luna murmured with a knowing smile. "You enjoy the attention too much to complain."
A wave of laughter broke between them, soft and unguarded, but it died almost instantly the moment their mother's icy glare swept over the table.
"Children! Be polite, Remember who you are. Every person here is watching you." Becca said, her voice smooth and soft yet sharp enough to silence the room.
"We remember, Mom," Lexa replied softly, her tone respectful but distant.
Because how could she forget? Every breath she took reminded her who she was.
Their youngest brother, Eden, trailed just behind them, charming as always, bowing politely to every guest who passed. Even at his age, he carried the effortless grace of a Woods heir.
Hours passed in a blur of handshakes and polite conversation. Lexa spoke to ministers, entrepreneurs, and foreign investors, her words measured and elegant. She was her father's pride, her grandparents perfect successor the living embodiment of the Woods name.
Until her gaze drifted.
It wasn't intentional. It wasn't planned. But across the golden glow of the ballroom, her eyes caught a figure she didn't recognize, and for the first time that night, her composure faltered.
The woman stood by the grand staircase, speaking to the event director. Her gown was emerald green, subtle and graceful, the fabric moving like water when she turned her head. Her Blonde hair fell in soft waves, and when she smiled, something inside Lexa, something long dormant shifted.
There was no arrogance in her stance, no forced elegance. She seemed effortless, untouched by the artificiality of the night.
"Who is that?" Lexa asked quietly, more to herself than anyone else.
Lincoln followed her gaze, his lighthearted expression fading.
"Clarke Griffin. The youngest Griffin daughter."
The name hit like a spark to dry wood.
Griffin.
Lexa froze. Her hand tightened around her glass. The blood that carried centuries of loyalty and restraint ran suddenly cold.
She should've looked away. Every instinct, every law, every lesson, every warning told her to.
But she didn't.
Because Clarke had looked up.
And when their eyes met, time stopped. The noise of the gala faded, the world around her dimmed, and for a heartbeat, Alexandria Woods the heir to The US's most powerful empire felt something she had never known before. Not love. Not yet. But something equally dangerous.
Recognition.
It was as though her soul remembered something her mind had never lived.
Lexa blinked, forcing herself to look away, to breathe. She handed her glass to a passing waiter and excused herself, her heart betraying her with every beat. She walked toward the balcony, the cool night air meeting her with relief. New York shimmered below, an endless ocean of lights stretching toward the horizon.
Her father's voice echoed faintly from inside calm, diplomatic, proud. Her siblings laughter floated through the music. From the balcony's reflection in the glass, she saw her grandparents sitting in quiet observation, watching the room as if they ruled it.
And yet, all she could think about was her.
Clarke.
The one name she was never meant to even speak, the one her bloodline forbade her to ever know.
She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing.
" Get a grip, Alexandria " she whispered to herself. "It's nothing. Just curiosity."
But deep down, she already knew it wasn't.
Because the moment she looked at Clarke Griffin, the law of blood and hatred, the one she had obeyed all her life had begun to crack.
And the sound of it breaking was beautiful.