Spotted by the Alpha Prince

Dahlia's POV

I couldn't say when I fell asleep, only that I must have, because the last thing I remembered was my body humming like a music box with the glow still moving over my skin. I'd missed dinner, and my stomach was making its protest known. I checked my bag and found half a pack of cream chips at the bottom.

Dinner of champions.

They were crushed and slightly stale, which suited the day. I ate a few, tossed the rest aside, and curled into a ball like a dog on a shelter poster, except that instead of looking sad I was glowing, literally.

A soft knock woke me, which was almost more suspicious than a loud one. I dragged myself over, cracked the door open, and blinked.

A girl stood there with wide brown eyes, a big smile, and hair tied up in two small buns on top of her head, as if she'd stepped out of a cartoon. She held a suitcase in one hand and a drink pouch in the other, which made her look like she was moving in and heading to a picnic at the same time.

“Hi! Oh my gosh, you must be Dahlia! I'm Soraya. I just transferred in, and they told me I'd be rooming with you. This place is huge, right? You're so pretty, by the way, and I love your hair, your lips, and your skin. Are you wearing highlighter? No? That's just your face? You're literally glowing!”

I froze.

Literally glowing?

My mind went into lockdown. Could she see it?

No, she was still talking, at full speed, and she wasn't reacting to anything. She was just handing out compliments like confetti, and I didn't know where to look. Did that mean only I could see the glow, or was she so exuberant that nothing could faze her?

“Thanks,” I muttered, squinting as I stepped aside. “The room's all yours. Don't trip over any emotional baggage.”

She rolled her suitcase in as if she were checking into a five-star hotel and carried on talking about how she'd been homeschooled for most of her life, her dad ran a spell-cleaning business for werewolves, and she'd once watched a witch levitate her mom's entire fridge out of the kitchen because she was angry about expired milk. It struck me then that I finally had a roommate, the one I'd wished for the night before, and she had arrived talking.

Soraya. It was such a name. She hardly even sounded real.

And yet there she was, sitting on her bed and swinging her legs, asking me fifty questions in five minutes as if I were a trivia card.

“Do you have a favorite subject? Is biology as creepy as people say? What's up with the teachers here? Why are the wolves so serious? Also, do you have snacks? I'm starving.”

I blinked. Nobody had ever talked to me like this, like I wasn't invisible, as if I were normal, or even interesting. She didn't look at me like a science project or a school-wide joke; she didn't flinch, sneer, or whisper. She just smiled.

“You're gorgeous,” she said again.

My heart nearly short-circuited. Nobody had said that to me since Grandma died, not my father, and certainly not my mirror. I mumbled something awkward that was meant to be thanks and turned away before my eyes could give me away.

The glow was still there, but she hadn't mentioned it, so maybe it really was only meant for me to see.

We got ready for class, and I stared at my clothes as if they were landmines. Everything I owned suddenly seemed too thin, too light, and too revealing. The glow had faded a little, though not completely, and I needed to cover it, so I did what any paranoid half-magic girl would do and layered: black tights under black pants, a long-sleeved top, a big coat, and the hood up.

“Uh … are we going to school or trekking across the tundra?” Soraya joked when I came out of the bathroom looking like someone preparing for the apocalypse.

“I'm cold,” I said.

“In August?”

“Yep. Cold in the soul.”

It wasn't entirely a lie. She laughed and didn't ask again, and I was grateful.

We walked to class together. A practical session was on, and I couldn't afford to skip it, since missing it would hurt my grades as badly as my dignity had already been hurt.

Class was awkward. I kept my arms pressed to my sides and my hood up even when the room grew warm, and I sweated through every layer. The teacher gave me a strange look, trying to decide whether I was hiding a weapon or simply had a terrible taste in clothes, and I avoided everyone.

Afterward, Soraya caught up and linked her arm with mine as if we'd been friends for years. All the way back to the dorm she talked without pause, about the teachers she already hated, the wolves who looked like failed models, and the cafeteria chicken that tasted like regret. I listened and laughed, and for once it felt okay.

Back in our room, she sprawled across her bed with her shoes still on and told me about her ex, who'd tried to impress her with fire magic and nearly burned off his eyebrows. I told her about Ms. Hale's “I know your secrets” stare, and she screamed as if we were swapping ghost stories. I can't remember the last time someone laughed with me rather than at me.

By the time the moon came up, she was asleep, stretched diagonally across the bed with one sock off and her mouth open. I sat by the window and looked out at the moon again.

Kyren's POV

Sleep had been a stranger to me for weeks.

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling like it owed me answers. It wasn't only the usual noise in my head, the pack business, school, the Council's latest drama. It was the mate question, the one thing I'd been trying to ignore since I turned eighteen. Every Alpha Prince had to choose eventually, and I could feel the pressure building behind my eyes like a storm, but nothing felt right. I had no face, no scent, no girl, nothing even close.

So I got up, pulled on a hoodie, and went out.

The night was cold and quiet, and the hoodie did little against it, though I welcomed the chill. I walked past the training field, planning to shift and run into the woods, when I noticed movement near the cafeteria, someone sneaking along the side of the building and keeping to the shadows.

I paused. It was a girl, and not just any girl, but the one everyone mocked for her size. Dahlia Reed.

She was meeting a staff member I didn't recognize, and they exchanged what looked like a food pack, which Dahlia pushed into the pouch of her hoodie. Then she checked her surroundings and walked away fast.

I didn't blame her. The bullies wouldn't let her eat in peace during the day, so she had to eat at night. I did wonder why she let them get away with it, since a girl her size could end it with a single punch.

What caught me off guard was that she didn't head back to the dorm. She went deeper, past the last of the lights and past the point where any student was supposed to go alone.

I followed quietly. I couldn't say why, whether I thought she was up to something, or wanted to make sure she didn't get eaten, or whether it was the pull, that strange tug that had been humming in me all day.

She moved through the trees without looking back, like someone used to hiding, and stopped in a small clearing of bare dirt with no benches and no lights, only the moon above. She sat down, opened the food, and ate in silence, bit by bit, as if this were the one peaceful moment she had. She drank from a small bottle of water and leaned against a tree.

Then I saw her skin glow black.

The glow pulsed under her skin, dark and bright at the same time, and for a moment I forgot to breathe. What was that?

Before I could stop myself, I stepped forward, and a branch cracked under my foot. She turned.

She froze when our eyes met, wide-eyed, shocked, frightened, and still glowing. I couldn't speak. I'd lost the words, so I walked closer, slowly, and sat down beside her. The glow didn't stop, and she didn't move, and neither of us said anything. The silence between us felt heavy, as if something ancient had sat down between us.

Then my wolf stirred, and her scent reached me, familiar.

“What? Impossible!” My eyes went wide.