The Hidden Princess At All-Boys Alpha Academy

We all stand quietly for a long few moments before Elias turns to me.

"Ariel," he says, his eyes meeting mine. "You need to run."

My eyes widen as I turn them to him. "What?"

He shakes his head. "He wants your power, badly, and he's making moves to take the throne, which means he thinks he can get it. If you gleaned any information from your ambassadors about how to get out of here, you need to use it. And go."

My teeth clench and I step towards the pair. "I'm not leaving without you."

"You have to," Pippa says, shaking her head. "There's no time to consider -"

"No," I say, my voice firm. "I'll find a way."

"You need to consider what is possible, highness," Elias says, falling back on formality I think to stress to me how important this is. "Not what you want. Pippa and I," he looks down at her, giving a steady nod. "We'll find our own way."

She looks up at her Alpha with a great deal of faith.

But no, in this horrible world that's just getting more and more unpredictable? I can't leave them here – not with Gabriel in charge. Not...considering what Gabriel very likely knows about these two and their relationship.

Elias and Pippa leave my room soon after that, Elias wanting to know the details of the sham investigation into the Prince's death, Pippa wanting a quiet moment to herself to process her grief. Because even if I never got the impression that Pippa was close to the Crown Prince in the same way that she was to Elias and Gabriel growing up, it was still a shocking death in the family.

I watch her go with worried eyes that drift to her stomach, knowing that she doesn't need any more stress in her pregnancy. My heart aches for Pippa even as she shuts the door behind her.

When I'm alone I don't bother to light any candles, instead preferring the dark. I move to my bed and flop down into the pillows and blankets, staring at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I'm going to do. Because it's becoming increasingly clear that my mate is lost to Darkness and that he's determined to take me with them.

Is there a way to navigate this, to trust my grandmother's intuition - as well as my professor's instructions - and access Gabriel's magic without becoming corrupted by his bond with Darkness?

Or...would it be better to just cut and run?

I bite my lip, trying to decide, all the time terribly worried that the wrong choice here will spell destruction for us all.

Jackson dreams, the images moving slow through his mind, churning with his worry. And all of it - the worry, the dreams - revolves around Ariel. Ariel's face, her sweet laugh - they echo in his mind even as he tosses against the shirt he's rolled beneath his head as a makeshift pillow.

But is that her laugh?

Jackson's eyes fly open and he's immediately up, glaring around his tent, the sound still echoing in his ears. He wasn't fully asleep - not really - just resting his eyes, all of his senses alert and aware for any change. His magic allows for such a state resting so as not to burn through his magic in the effort to keep awake, but not sinking so deeply that he might be vulnerable.

-

Which is how he knows that that laugh...it had echoed in his mind like a dream, mixing with his memories of Ariel's voice but...it wasn't. It had been in this world.

So then who the hell was it?

Jackson snarls, sniffing the air, able to sense...something. But not even a true scent, more like... the sense of hot metal, or frozen air, which affect the nose and sinuses but don't have a smell. He sniffs again, quite sure that no person was physically here, but still, there's an... impression. noveldrama

Frowning, Jackson looks around the tent carefully and sends his senses without, searching the vicinity for any movement. And as he turns to ensure his hearing catches all angles, Jackson's hand falls across something new.

He snaps his gaze down, picking up the little rectangular stone, grey and carved delicately with geometrical symbols. What...what the hell is this?

He lifts it in his palm to get a closer look and a voice softly echoes in his mind, making his wolf's hair stand on end.

I have not done much for you, it says, tender and gentle - a woman's voice. But this, I can do.

Jackson's eyes fly wide as he stares at the item and his wolf whines, frightened and confused. Because he's quite sure - quite sure in this moment that he's not just going

-

insane with lack of sleep and hunger and stress. No, he's been in worse stakeouts than this and survived just fine.

No, that voice – and this stone - they're quite real.

But who the hell did it?