LOGINI smirked, sensing an opportunity to turn the tables. “Speaking of telling everything, Kiyan,” I said, my tone light but pointed, “how exactly did you notice she was pretty? I thought you only had eyes for Sera.”
Kiyan froze.
I turned my gaze on Seraphine, voice low and teasing. “Are you really going to let him go around staring at other women? I suppose that’s not what loyal mates do”
Seraphine’s expression darkened instantly. “Kiyan? How did you know she’s pretty?”
He groaned. “Oh for—Aklan, you’re the devil.”
Their argument started in seconds... sharp, biting, entirely predictable. I leaned back, crossing my arms, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips as they started bickering. Kiyan tried to backpedal, stammering about how he was just observing, while Seraphine poked his chest, her voice rose by the second. It was almost too easy to shut him up.
Then I heard her voice.
“What girl?”
It was soft, lilting, but carried the kind of danger only a certain kind of woman could wield.
Valora Gravesend.
I didn’t need to look to know it was her. The room seemed to shift when she walked in like gravity remembered itself but I turned anyway, catching sight of her as she sauntered toward us. Her deep purple corset dress hugged her frame, short in the front to show off her thighs, with a long, dramatic tail trailing behind her. A chain of dark amethysts glinted around her throat. She was a vision, as always, but I wasn’t in the mood for her theatrics today.
She slid into the chair beside me, her dark eyes glinting with that possessive edge she liked to play up, even though she knew exactly what our deal was.
“So, who do I have to kill?” she asked, her voice light but laced with a threat that wasn’t entirely a joke.
I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “Calm down, Val. It’s nothing.”
Kiyan, ever the instigator, flashed her a sweet smile. “No dark magic on school grounds, Valora. You know the rules.”
She tilted her head, her lips curving into a dangerous smile as she looked at me. “Only if the girls keep their hands to themselves.”
Seraphine rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that I didn’t catch but was probably scathing. The bad blood between her and Valora was no secret, and neither Kiyan nor I ever bothered to wade into that mess.
The murky waters between a powerful Warlock and a half fae, half Wyseath princess? Definitely not Lycan territory. Even Valora, a powerful warlock that she was, knew better than to mess with a water wolf, the entire realm of shifters knew damn well the Wyseath were not to be trifled with, worse when you mix fae into that and Seraphine, sweet as she was, was just as dangerous and powerful, if not more than Valora.
Valora ignored Seraphine, her gaze fixed on me. “Something’s got you puzzled,” she said, her voice softer now, almost concerned. “What is it?”
I shook my head, forcing a casual shrug. “Just stressed.”
“Do you have classes in the next hour?” She asked expectantly.
“No I don’t, why?” I glanced at my wristwatch
She studied me for a moment, then leaned closer, her hand brushing my arm knowingly. “I know just the thing to take the edge off.”
Kiyan groaned loudly. “Gods, please don’t.”
Seraphine made a disgusted sound, burying her face in Kiyan’s shoulder. “You two need to get a room.”
Valora smirked, standing and grabbing my wrist as she did. “We’re going to do exactly that.”
As she pulled me to my feet, Kiyan called after us, “Use condoms please! No warlock-lycan hybrids, please. The last thing this academy needs is a baby with fangs and telekinesis.”
A low laugh escaped me despite myself.
Valora’s nails traced lightly along my arm as she led me toward the doors, her perfume lingering like a spell. I followed, outwardly calm, inwardly detached. She was beautiful, deadly, everything a man should want, should fear—and yet, I felt nothing for her beyond the dull familiarity of comfort and power, she knew it too. I had never lied to her and our arrangement had always been clear.
Casual sex, great company, solid friendship. No romantic feelings, no wanting more because that? I could not give.
I didn’t do love, and I was not interested in it. All I needed was a strong, powerful mate who would solidify my claim as heir to the throne, and Valora understood that. Most of the time.
Still, even as she pulled me through the door, her laughter spilling through the corridor, that other face flickered in my mind.
Those hazel eyes.
That impossible intensity.
And the memory of a battlefield long gone cold, where a boy I once called friend lay dying beneath my hands.
Rivan.
My jaw tightened.
No. It couldn’t be.
I forced the thought away, convincing myself I was imagining the resemblance. Just another student. Just another pretty face with a temper.
By the time dinner was over and the sun began sinking behind the western towers of Norsen, all I wanted was a bed, a blanket, and the sweet, comforting silence of not having to think about Aklan for even five seconds.Ferna, Elsie, and I made our way down the long stone pathway toward our dorm wing. The courtyard lanterns were lighting themselves one by one, reacting to the fall of night, and the air was pleasantly cool. The kind of cool that made your shoulders relax even after the most stressful day.Elsie was recounting some ridiculous story about how her Lycan noble lover had tried to impress her by lifting a boulder the size of a cow, only for it to roll and nearly crush his foot. Ferna was wheezing with laughter loud enough to echo off the brick walls.And I… I was laughing too.A real laugh.The kind I hadn’t felt in days. For a moment, a tiny, fragile moment, Aklan disappeared from my mind entirely. No memories of his hands on me. No phantom heat blooming in my stomach. No
They kept talking, or more likely, Elsie spoke, Ferna lectured, but their voices started to drift into background static because a scent cut through the air like a blade.The same scent that has crowded my senses ever since the day of the festival. Citrus. Warm earth. Heat.Aklan.My head snapped up before I could stop myself. I no longer had control over my own body.And there he was.Walking into the cafeteria, like the entire building should rearrange itself around him, broad shoulders, sweat-damp hair, that aura that sucked the oxygen from every room. He looked exhausted, irritated, and unfairly beautiful, and then—His eyes locked onto mine.It wasn’t subtle, wasn’t accidental. It was instant, sharp, like someone grabbing me by the spine.His gaze hit me so hard my breath stuttered in my throat.And I swear, I swear on every god of the nine realms, his chest rose just a little faster when he saw me. Like, he hated that he had been looking for me. Like, he hated that he found me.
Lunch was supposed to be simple.Just… lunch. A plate of food, my two friends, and one quiet hour where I could pretend my brain wasn’t a chaotic battlefield of memories I absolutely did not ask for.Ferna and Elsie sat across from me, chattering like nothing in the world had shattered.This was the first lunch we’d managed to have together since Aklan became my personal tormentor, and I was doing a spectacular job of pretending I was fine.But my fork had been dragging the same stripe through my mashed potatoes for so long that the grooves looked like an artist’s sketch. I kept trying to eat, truly, but each time the fork rose toward my mouth, my stomach tightened. Not from nausea, but from the humiliating, unbearable, pulse-deep reminder of what Aklan had done to me the last time we trained.I was not fine.Every time I closed my eyes, I was back in that changing room:His mouth bruising mine, his hand under my bra, thumb rolling over my nipple until I forgot my own name, his finger
“Hi”, she said, carefully approaching me with that hungry look. Her gaze was firmly placed on the barely there boner that rocked my towel.I smiled, trying to cover up my irritation. “Valora. Hey!”“Aklan,” she said, with that soft, breathy voice she always used when she wanted something. “Why have you been avoiding me since the other night?”Avoiding her. Right. It could only count as avoidance if she ever came to mind in the time we hadn’t spoken, so no, I wasn’t avoiding her; she just simply stopped existing in my subconscious.I grabbed a towel and wiped my face, giving myself a few seconds before I answered. If she knew how close I was to ripping the walls down with my bare hands just from trying not to think about Rosalind, she’d probably choke on her own spiteful laughter.“I haven’t been avoiding you,” I said, keeping my tone even. “I’ve just been taking some time to clear my head.”Her brows pulled together, not convinced. She moved closer, each step slow, deliberate—like a
Rut season had hit me like a warhammer, and it had never happened before, never once in twenty-three years had I totally lost control the way I did with Rosalind, because I’d never known what it meant to have a mate.Now I did.And I couldn’t touch her.Nobody told me how painful it was not to be able to have the only person ever fibre of your being wanted. I was finding out the hard way. The shower cascaded down my body as steam rolled off my skin from the amount of heat my body had gathered. I was simply dying inside, all of my senses were heightened, my muscles tensed, and all of my blood rushed to one place in particular. I looked down at myself, and it was rock hard, hot, unyielding, and now showing any signs of softening any time soon. I had tried everything possible to get myself to calm down, but it just wasn’t working; nothing worked.Cold water, hot water, my own hand. Nothing eased the pressure. The only thing my body yearned for was Rosalind. I needed her like I needed
My skin buzzed with an electric current that ran from the tip of my fingers to the end of my toes, my heart raced, and my entire body screamed yes while my mind whispered no, No, no, no—He broke away first, almost as though he could hear my thoughts, stepping back like he’d been burned.“Try it on me,” he said roughly, trying to regulate his breathing.His voice wasn’t steady.Neither was my sanity.I tried it once, twice, ten times.He blocked me effortlessly each time until suddenly he didn’t.On my eleventh try, I managed to twist his arm, leverage his balance, and pin him by the throat against the wall, mirroring the exact position he’d put me in.For one suspended heartbeat, I was proud. Proud that there was a fighting chance, that there was hope I could one day beat him.Then I realized where his hands were.On my waist.They were firm, possessive, hot enough to sear through fabric and skin and bone.He stared down at me like he had never seen me before, like I was something i







