All Chapters of The Top Boy Is My Mate: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Zara I didn’t plan to confront her after Gymnastics. My thighs burned from a dozen failed aerial flips, my palms chalk-dusted and trembling as I packed my shoes into my duffel bag. But when I saw Alex brushing her hair out at the mirror, all calm and radiant as if her entire life wasn’t a festering lie, the words spilled out before I could leash them. “Why did you drug me at the masked event?” She paused mid-stroke, her brush still tangled in her pale curls. Slowly, she turned, lips parting into a small amused smile. “Wow. Are we still on this?” I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth ached. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. I woke up in Atlas’s room with no memory of what happened after your drink. What did you put in it?” She sighed dramatically, tossing her brush onto the shelf and turning fully to face me. “Paranoia suits you, Zara. Really, it does. But if you want proof I didn’t poison your precious virtue or whatever tragic theory you’ve built, follow me aft

Zara Saturdays at Blackwood felt different. Not calmer. Never calm. But the noise slowed. The halls quieted, emptying into the weekend’s looser schedule. Professors retreated to their towers, leaving only the echo of distant footsteps. Breakfast tasted sweeter. The morning fog clung to the windowpanes longer, grey and soft like wool, making the castle feel more homely as though the stones themselves sighed in relief at a day of rest. I wished I could feel the same relief. But the questions kept scratching at the inside of my skull, demanding attention. I sat on the stone ledge of the corridor window, knees pulled up to my chest, chin resting on them as I watched faint streaks of the morning sun cut through the fog outside. Below, the training fields lay empty. Above, ravens nested against the battlements, their black feathers shifting like restless thoughts. My phone burned in my hand. It was one of the few days calls were allowed out. Saturdays only, for a short window before c

Zara My breath came in ragged gasps. My legs burned from the adrenaline, and every footstep seemed to echo louder in the empty hallway. I had to get out, away from that suffocating room, away from the professor’s words still lingering in my ears. My fingers tingled as I pressed them against my lips, trying to wipe away the phantom touch of his stale breath when he leaned too close. The corridor lights flickered overhead, painting white stripes across the walls as I ran. Every flicker felt like a spotlight on my shame. On my fear. I turned the corner too quickly, my shoes skidding on the polished floor. And then—Bang! I slammed straight into someone, hard enough that I stumbled back and fell to the ground. My elbow smacked painfully against the tiles, sending shockwaves up to my shoulder. I braced myself for impact, but instead, I landed on something warm and firm. A muffled curse followed as a warm hand gripped my arm, steadying me. “Zara!” The voice was familiar—Jace. M

Atlas The sound of her flats scuffing against the marble floor was the only thing that filled the silence between us as I led her away from the courtyard. I didn’t loosen my grip on her wrist, and she didn’t try to pull away. Her fingers remained curled under my palm, trembling slightly, so small it made something cold twist in my chest. We moved past the rose garden, its blossoms drooping. I stopped near the carved stone fountain where the roses draped over its rim, petals floating in the stagnant water. The scent was cloying, sweet to the point of nausea. I released her wrist abruptly. She stumbled back a step, rubbing at the reddened skin where my grip had been. Her wide eyes lifted to my face, searching, afraid, hopeful, and broken. The sun caught her features, illuminating her small nose and trembling mouth, her eyes dark with unshed tears. There was dirt smudged across her cheek where she’d fallen earlier. Her lips parted like she was about to speak, but the words died as

Jace The piano keys were cold under my fingers. I pressed them down, one by one, creating a discordant, broken melody that mirrored the ache in my chest. The music room was empty, dim light filtering through the tall arched windows, casting golden stripes across the polished floor and ivory keys. Dust motes floated lazily in the late afternoon sunbeams, swirling with every flick of my wrist. My reflection stared back at me from the glossy black surface of the grand piano lid. My hair was ruffled, my uniform tie loosened at my throat. My eyes looked tired. Angrier than I wanted to admit. The door slammed open behind me. I didn’t need to turn to know it was her. Her scent rushed in before her footsteps, and that cloying sweetness that always made me grit my teeth. Alex. She walked in with that practiced grace, her pleated skirt swaying around her thighs, blazer hugging her slim frame. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her fingers gripping her elbows so hard her knuckle