The Top Boy Is My Mate のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 121 - チャプター 130

Jace – First Person POV The buzz of my phone jolted me out of half-focus. I slid it out under the desk, shielding the screen from the teacher’s eyes. One new message lit up the display. Father: I’m waiting at the school gate. Come. My stomach dropped. He never texted like that unless it was serious. I slipped out the moment the bell rang, heart thudding faster with every step down the hallway. Students brushed past me in waves, laughter echoing off the walls, but it all sounded distant. When I pushed open the academy’s front doors, the sight waiting for me was impossible to miss. A sleek black car sat idling at the gate, polished so clean it reflected the afternoon sunlight like a blade. The back window rolled down just enough for me to catch the unmistakable silhouette inside. “Get in, son.” I hesitated, fingers tightening around my bag strap. Then I moved, each step slower than the last until I reached the car. My reflection reflected in the tinted glass. I opened the door a

Atlas – First Person POV The ticking of the grandfather clock filled the silence like a slow drip of poison. I sat on the edge of the leather couch in the sitting room, hands clasped together so tightly my knuckles whitened. My father’s summons had been sudden, and sudden with him never meant casual. I tried to steady my breathing, tried to sit as if I belonged here, but my nerves betrayed me. The sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. Heavy, measured. My father’s, I thought. Relief flickered in me—until the door opened, and instead of his tall figure, I saw him. Jace. Trailing behind Father like he owned the right to follow, his stride confident, his face calm, as though this house had been built for him alone. My chest tightened. Of course. Why had I even assumed otherwise? Maybe, just maybe, I thought today was the day Father finally saw me. Saw that I could handle things on my own. That I didn’t need Jace shadowing over me like a constant reminder of everything I was not. B

Alex’s POV I had seen wolves bleed, die, shift, mate,etc. I had seen claws rip through skin, bones snap mid-shift, even students faint under the weight of their first transformations. But never — never in all my years at this Academy — had I seen fire spew from a wolf’s body. And yet there it was. Zara. Standing across from me, her face pale, her chest rising and falling as if the flames had stolen her breath. And around her, the stone ground still smoldered with the evidence of what had just erupted. I couldn’t move. My own knees felt locked in place, every instinct screaming that this wasn’t right. It couldn’t be right. Wolves didn’t breathe fire. Wolves weren’t—. But I had seen it with my own eyes. Her eyes — gods, those eyes. Wide, terrified, almost glassy with confusion. For the first time since I’d known her, there was no fight in her, no sharp tongue ready to lash back. Just helplessness. And that helplessness did something ugly to my chest. Because I had been the one

Jace’s POV The Academy was a furnace of whispers. By dawn, Zara’s name had already spread through every corridor, every classroom, every whispered exchange between students who thought their words wouldn’t carry. The news traveled faster than fire itself: Zara Blackwood had unleashed dragon flame. Her hybrid form wasn’t rumors anymore. It wasn’t whispered in the shadows. It was a fact. “She’s not a wolf,” one girl gasped as I walked past her cluster of friends. “She’s something else.” “A monster wolf,” a boy muttered, and the others nodded like it was gospel. “No wonder Kai’s gone,” another chimed in, voice low but laced with fear. “She burned him alive.” My fists clenched at my sides, knuckles aching. Every instinct screamed at me to shut them up, but if I fought every voice that spat poison about her, I’d never stop swinging. And they weren’t even the real threat. The real threat was the adults. The professors. The council. My uncle. The ones who could decide her fate with

Zara’s POV The healer’s ward was a quiet place at night—too quiet. The kind of silence that left room for thoughts to fester. And mine had been festering since the moment I stumbled back into this bed after seeing Talia and Atlas together in the shadows. No matter how many times I turned over, how many times I closed my eyes and begged for sleep to drag me under, the scene replayed like an endless reel: Atlas leaning in close to her, his head bent low, their voices hushed, almost conspiratorial. Talia’s expression, though hard to see clearly, hadn’t looked distressed. She hadn’t been pushing him away. They had looked like two people sharing secrets. My chest tightened. The same question haunted me: Why were they together? Atlas was no friend of Talia’s—or at least, I thought he wasn’t. They were rarely even seen in the same orbit unless forced. So why now? Why in the healer’s ward of all places, when I was lying unconscious just a few doors away? The ceiling beams of the ward swa