Semua Bab The Top Boy Is My Mate: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Elvira The rush of cold air hit me the moment we burst out of that godforsaken tunnel. Atlas’s grip on my wrist was firm, almost too firm, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull away — not when my legs still trembled from the close calls we’d had in there. His breath came fast, harsh against the quiet night, his body tense like a drawn bow. He didn’t stop running until we crossed the main gate we’d entered through. The iron structure loomed above us, casting long, jagged shadows under the pale light of the academy’s torches. Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled, low and slow, signaling the end of the test. “Winners!” the instructor’s voice boomed, echoing across the courtyard. His grizzled face broke into a rare smile as he marked something on his clipboard. “King and Blackwood, first out. Well done.” I tried to catch my breath, tried to feel proud, but all I could focus on was Atlas’s hand still wrapped around mine. I blinked down at it, half-expecting him to let go now that th

Zara’s POV I was having a perfectly good dream, something about finally making it to graduation day and being handed a diploma made of chocolate, weird, when the door to my dorm burst open with all the drama of a fire alarm. “Zara!” Talia’s voice pitched just above my sanity threshold. “Wake up, like right now!” I groaned, shoving the covers over my head. “Talia, unless the school is burning down or a vampire just declared his eternal love for me, I don’t want to know.” “No,” she said breathlessly, practically vibrating as she stomped to the foot of my bed. “It’s a new transfer student. Last one this term. And girl, it’s juicy.” I peeked out from under my blanket, hair a wild nest around my face. “So you woke me up for gossip?” Talia’s eyes sparkled. “Yes.” I sighed into my pillow. “I’m going back to sleep.” But then the breakfast bell rang, loud and obnoxious, rattling my thoughts. No chance of sleep now. I grumbled under my breath as I rolled out of bed. A long shower didn’

Zara’s POV The morning air was crisp with frostbite, winter was fast approaching. I walked slower than usual, my boots echoing against the polished stone floors of the corridor. The hall was mostly empty this early, save for a few students yawning and dragging themselves to class. My fingers were tucked into the sleeves of my sweater, rubbing against the raw skin of my knuckles from yesterday’s training. When I turned the corner toward the student lockers near the main lecture hall, the sharp scent of paint stopped me cold. My locker stood ajar, i blinked. No, I’m very sure I had it locked yesterday. My feet moved before I could think, heart pounding. I reached it, hesitating for just a second. A single breath. The metal door was bent where the latch used to sit. Someone had pried it open. Then I saw it, the contents spilled onto the floor. Books, papers, my schedule, a broken bottle of ink that bled black across my notes. Someone had taken their time. My combat gloves were shre

Zara’s POV My head felt like it was stuffed with cotton. Class this morning had sputtered through left hips to right jabs, but my mind replayed last night on a loop. Why had he been in the girls’ dorm at midnight? My stomach twisted. It was combat class today, mirrors, staff grinds, old martial arts runes were chalked to perfection on the wooden floor. Even here, my gaze kept drifting to the archway leading to the side corridor. Heart scraping. At the end of class, Professor Adira, she wore her dark hair in a braid like a whip, clapped her hands, calling us all in close. “Important announcement,” she said, her voice sweet and rough all at once. I inhaled, no one else had heard the growl, no one else was living my nightmare. “We have a group project,” she continued. “Four of you will partner for a term-long challenge in pack dynamics and supernatural symbiosis.” My pulse kicked up. I closed my eyes. “Zara Blackwood.” Yeah, me. “Atlas King.” …well that was expected. “Alexan

Zara Midterms turned the academy into a prison. Every hallway buzzed with students, paper crumples, and the low drone of students reciting facts under their breath like prayers. Even the combat wing had quieted, no training, no duels — just the suffocating silence of too many brains trying not to fail. The main library was a disaster. Every table taken. Bodies slumped in uncomfortable chairs, backpacks filled with notes, enchantments pulsing weakly in the corners. I had tried, gods knew I had, to find a place to concentrate. But the whispering, the shuffling, the smell of stress, and sweat…. It rose to my skull. So I asked Mina Roja, our class captain, quietly over breakfast, where people didn’t study. She blinked at me. “Old East Wing.” I frowned. “Why not there?” She leaned closer like the shadows might hear. “It’s sealed. They say part of the roof caved in a few terms ago. Unsafe.” She lowered her voice further. “Also cursed.” Still, later that afternoon, I found myself pu