The leftover jacket

Chapter 19

The night was freezing cold. A bitter winter wind blew through the open windows of the grand executive tower, making the stone corridors feel like ice. I was working on the fourth floor, pushing a heavy cart filled with cleaning supplies.

My thin, standard work-study shirt did not protect me from the chill. My hands were blue from the cold, and I was shivering so hard the plastic bottles on my cart rattled. My oversized grey jacket was still damp from the courtyard rain yesterday, so I could only wear my thin clothes tonight.

Every breath I took turned into a white cloud in the air.

As I pushed the cart past the heavy mahogany doors of the principal's private office, I froze.

Alistair Vance was standing in the middle of the hallway. He was talking to Gideon about the night patrol logs. He wore his expensive, dark wool trousers and a crisp white shirt, but his massive shoulders were covered by a heavy, long administrative cloak made of dark velvet. He looked like a king standing in his castle.

I immediately stopped my cart, keeping my head low and my hands tucked behind my back to show respect.

"Good evening, Principal Vance, Officer Gideon," I said softly, my voice trembling slightly from the cold.

Alistair stopped talking mid-sentence. His sharp, amber-golden eyes moved away from Gideon's paperwork and locked directly onto my small frame. The atmospheric pressure in the corridor dropped instantly, becoming thick and heavy.

His eyes scanned my body, noticing my bare arms and how my shoulders shook from the freezing air. His jaw tightened into a hard, angry line. His advanced wolf senses could track my drops in body temperature from yards away.

"Why are you not wearing your regulation jacket, Miss Cross?" Alistair demanded, his deep, gravelly baritone voice vibrating through the cold stone floor.

"It is drying in the locker room, sir," I answered flatly, keeping my face completely blank. "I will be finished with my rotation soon."

Alistair didn't say anything else. He gave me one last, freezing look before turning on his heel and walking back into his office. Gideon followed him inside, and the heavy doors closed with a soft thud.

I let out a shaky breath, my lungs burning from the cold air. I forced my stiff fingers to grip the handle of my cart and continued cleaning the long hallway.

Two hours later, my shift was finally over. The clock on the wall read 1:00 AM. I pushed my heavy cart back into the small maintenance closet on the fourth floor to lock up my supplies.

When I opened the closet door, I froze.

Sitting right on top of my clean microfiber cloths was a large, heavy garment. It was Alistair’s dark administrative cloak, the exact same velvet cloak he had been wearing earlier. It was thick, beautifully lined with soft wool, and completely pristine.

There was no note left on it.

I stepped closer, my heart giving a strange, erratic thud against my ribs. I reached out a hand and touched the soft velvet fabric. It was still incredibly warm, radiating the intense physical heat of his body. A heavy, intoxicating scent instantly flooded my senses, the rich smell of cedar wood, dark winter storms, and pure, dominant Alpha power.

Suddenly, a sharp, familiar heat flared deep inside my chest.

My hidden royal magic woke up, reacting to the heavy scent of his power lingering on the fabric. A wave of white-hot pain rushed up my throat, and the taste of copper filled my mouth. I quickly pressed my hand over my lips, choking back a cough, and swallowed the blood down. I closed my eyes until the golden light pulsing beneath my sleeves dimmed into darkness.

“Why did he leave this here?” I thought, my mind racing.

In my first life, Alistair Vance never would have noticed a freezing maid. He was an untouchable sovereign who stayed far above the scholarship students. But in this life, my choices had changed his trajectory. He was watching me. He was paying attention to my comfort.

I lifted the heavy cloak from the shelf. Instead of putting it on, I folded it neatly over my arm. I knew the rules of the academy. If the other students saw a scholarship girl walking around in the Principal's personal velvet cloak, it would cause a massive, dangerous scandal. Vivienne would use it to destroy me, and Cassian would lose his mind.

I walked out of the tower into the dark night, carrying his warmth against my arm. Alistair Vance thought he was just protecting a piece of his staff from the cold. He had no idea that I was going to use every single drop of his attention to break his sister's trap and rewrite the destiny of this school.