The Hidden Princess At All-Boys Alpha Academy

“Sorry,” Jackson says, frowning a little at me as he continues to hold the plate out, his own dinner plate in his hand. “You…said to come for dinner. Should I…not have come?”

“N–no,” I stammer, taking the plate from him and shaking my head. “Of course, Jackson. Forgive me…I just….lost track of time.”

He shrugs, the corner of his lip turning up. “Happens to the best of us. So…” he says, straightening up and holding his plate with two hands, glancing over his shoulder at the packed room. “Where should we…”

I look with him, a little surprised to see all four of the usually chatty boys eating quietly, bent over their own textbooks. And then I scowl, realizing that there’s absolutely no room for Jackson and I to comfortably sit.

“Best plan,” Luca offers, glancing up towards us, “is probably just to settle yourself into the Shrimp Nook. Plenty of room in there.”

Rafe snaps his head up, scowling at Luca, and I clench my own teeth.

Because Luca – he doesn’t know just how far he’s pushing his “I don’t care” attitude. He’s trying to embarrass me, but if he knew precisely who he was inviting to sit in my bed with me? He’d flip out.

Luca just smirks, unable to hide it as he focuses on his book.

Jackson turns to me, raising an eyebrow.

But I just sigh and gesture at the other half of my bed, inviting Jackson to take a seat.

As he does, my wolf yips with happiness, pouncing excitedly in my soul. Close the curtain!, she urges, nearly delirious at the smell of Jackson so close in our personal space, see if you can get him to take off his shirt!

I grown inwardly, trying to shove her away, but she just ignores me, continuing to spin.

Rafe clears his throat and my eyes dart immediately to him as he glares at me. But I just

sigh, and shrug, and look meaningfully at the curtain, which is wide open.

His glare intensifies but I roll my eyes. Because honestly, even if Jackson is my mate and is technically on my bed, what the hell does Rafe think is going to happen with the curtain open and an audience of four spread directly in front of us?

Lots can happen! My wolf unhelpfully provides. Just, see if you can get Jackson to slip under the covers with us…

“So,” Jackson says, turning towards me as he unrolls his fork and knife from his napkin and settles his plate on his knee. “Where do we…start?”

I stare at him for a long moment, completely blank as he twines egg noodles onto his fork before stabbing a meatball, lifting both to his mouth. I can’t help it when my eyes drift to the way his biceps swell, even the muscles of his forearm defined as he moves…

It’s only when he starts chewing and frowns at my elongated silence before I that out of my reverie –

God, why is he so gorgeous even when he’s just eating?

I force myself to concentrate, to remember what he’s here for. “Oh, um,” I say, suddenly turning towards my bedside table and looking for the marble. Jackson’s hand snaps out, catching the edge of my plate before it falls from my lap.

“Careful,” he murmurs.

“Thanks,” I reply, stretching behind me and grabbing the marble, setting it between us when I sit back up straight.

“Alvez said…an hour,” Jackson murmurs, looking down at the marble. “Are you comfortable?”

I sigh, looking at the scattered remains of my bed, and my pillows, and my chemistry book, and my

dinner. And then I get to work, shoving a forkful of food into my mouth before straightening pillows, closing my books, and pulling myself on top of my blankets. I take another bite of my dinner before putting the plate on my bedside table and finally placing the marble on top of my chemistry book, which I’ve placed before us.

When I turn to Jackson, swallowing my food, I’m shocked to find a little grin on his mouth.

“What?” I ask, confused.

“You’re just…funny,” he murmurs, dropping his eyes a little bit. I frown, staring at the strong lines of his profile – his straight nose, his square jaw, the shaggy brown hair that he’s tucked behind his car. I blink only when he clears his throat, raising his eyes to the marble. “Ready?” he asks.

I, too, shift so that I can focus on the marble, though I admit that my gaze drifts up to where Rafe is scowling in his chair and Luca looks completely unperturbed, reading his text like it’s the most fascinating thing that’s ever presented itself, ignoring me completely.

“Ready,” I say, holding out my hand to Jackson. When he doesn’t take it, I turn to him, surprised – because…I mean, Alvez said we had to have body contact to do this…

Jackson lifts his eyes from my hand to meet my gaze. “I mean,” he says, soft enough to not be overheard, “what if the…thing happens.”

I blush, suddenly, to hear him address the connection between us. Because even though I know we’re both aware of it, this is the first time either of us has acknowledged it.

I stare at him for a second and then shrug. “Maybe it will help,” I whisper back, dropping my hand to the blanket between us but still keeping it palm up. “I mean, isn’t that what Alvez was saying? That magic calls to magic? Maybe that…thing…is just our magic trying to talk to each other.”

Jackson keeps his eyes on mine, though his narrow a bit. Then he glances, just for half a second at everyone else in the room. “But why,” he says, frustration on the edge of his voice, “does your magic call to mine? Or vice versa? Or…whatever…”

And guilt floods me then, because I know the answer to that question.

And I’m deliberately keeping it from him.

My wolf howls inside me, begging me to just tell him, to let him smell my scent, to let him

in on it.

But I just…I just can’t. There’s still way too much at stake.

“I don’t know, Jackson,” I whisper, and the frustration with which he sighs lets me know that he’s well aware that I’m lying. He doesn’t know what, but he knows I’m keeping something. from him. He turns his eyes away from me, focusing on the marble.

“Fine, whatever,” he murmurs, “Let’s just…do this.”

“Jackson,” I say again, pleading in my voice. But before I can say more, Jackson just reaches. out his hand and grabs mine, our palms pressing flat together, his fingers folding around mine in a way that just…hums, filling me with warm vibrations.

I have to catch my breath that the swell of warmth that floods my body as the magic again. pulses between us, as it always does when my hands touch him. My eyes instantly dart to the room as Rafe and Jesse look up – not towards me,

me, towards us, but past them whatever force Jackson and I created brushed by them like a ghost, dragging its fingers. across their skin.

as if

Jackson’s hand tightens and I look up at him to see that his face is tense. He shakes his head at me, confused and angry about it. But I just sigh, and tighten my fingers too, and turn my attention back to the marble.

“Come on,” I say, feeling guilty and overwhelmed, still buzzing with the warmth of him flooding through me. “Let’s try to…float this damn marble.” This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

“Whatever you say,” he replies, his shoulders slumping as he rests his chin in his other palm, likewise staring at the little ball of glass.

Half an hour passes.

Nothing happens.

I still feel the heat passing between us, just in the same way that it did when I held Tony’s hand in class. There is something about our magic that calls to each other, I can definitely feel it, but as for manifesting anything? For making anything happen at all?

Zip.

“Are you trying?” I whisper, spinning my head to him.

“Trying to what?” he replies, his voice equally soft, glaring at me a little.

“To lift it!”

“Well how the hell am I supposed to do that!” he says, frowning at me, lifting his face from his hand.

“I don’t know!” I reply in a rush, exasperated. “I’m trying!”

“Trying to do what?”

“To lift the marble into the air!”

“With like, your mind?” he asks, shaking his head at me. “Clark, that’s a waste of time.”

I stare at my mate, shocked. Is he finally showing his true colors to me? Is this the side of him that Luca sees?

Was I just so blinded by his handsome face that I didn’t see it before?