My eyelids felt heavy as lead, but gradually I became aware of the warmth around me, unlike the biting cold I had been exposed to since I arrived here. The comfort reminded me of home, and for a moment, I panicked.
The minute I wondered if I was at home, my eyes snapped open, taking in my surroundings. The light from the bedside lamp glowed softly, casting warm hues on the walls. The room didn’t look anything like one of our rooms at Crestborne, and it wasn’t the Student President’s sitting room either, thank the goddess.
My head was pounding softly, but the nausea from before had lifted. I turned my head slightly, and across the room, I caught sight of a familiar silhouette. He was hunched over a reading table, scribbling in a notebook, absorbed in whatever he was studying. It took my foggy mind a moment to recognise him.
I shifted to sit up, and immediately a soft chiming sound filled the air—some alarm system. Slater straightened from his desk instantly and rushed to my side before I’d fully processed what had happened.
"You’re awake?" His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t spoken in hours. "Are you alright?"
As he asked, he flicked on the bedside lamp, flooding the room with light.
Now I could see a cold compress resting on the nightstand beside the bed, along with several bottles of medicine and a bowl that smelled strongly of chicken soup.
"I’m fine," I croaked, sitting up fully now and pushing off the duvet.
He reached out and pressed the back of his hand against my forehead, checking for fever. His touch was gentle.
"Still a little warm but better," he murmured. But as soon as he pulled back his hand, his expression shifted from concern.
"Fine?" he repeated. "You call what happened to you fine?"
I was still trying to understand how I had ended up in his room and why his eyes, which had been warm seconds ago, had turned into cold slits. Before I could respond, he exploded.
"Why didn’t you try to reach out to me in some way?" he demanded, beginning to pace the room. "Do you have any idea what kind of person Marcus Webb is? He’s not just some spoiled, privileged Alpha’s son; he’s a predator, Charis."
"I didn’t know he was going to—" I began, but Slater cut me off.
"That’s the point! You didn’t know, and you went along anyway! You let that scum, Peter drag you out of the dorms without raising a real alarm, you walked into his room, you could’ve—" He stopped, exhaling deeply. "What if Kael hadn’t shown up right then? What would you have done?"
"Kael?" I interrupted; I knew someone had come to save me, but that memory was still hazy. "Kael was there?"
"He’s the one who found you!" Slater snapped. "He showed up at your dorm to organise you guys for the evening orientation, only to find out you were missing and none of the students were willing to say where you went. He picked up your scent, and it led him straight to the Student President’s quarters."
I flinched at the memory of Marcus’s hands on me, of being helpless on that couch.
"You would have blown your cover and exposed everything," Slater continued, still yelling. "Is that what you wanted? To get yourself thrown out of the academy? Or worse?"
"No! Of course not!" I snapped back, my voice rising to match his. "And what could be worse than what almost happened?"
"You could’ve been assaulted, Charis. You could’ve been marked and, worst case scenario, killed for deceiving him. Do you think Marcus would have just let you walk away after realising you’re a girl? Do you think he would have risked you reporting what he tried to do?"
"Don’t put this on me, Slater. I didn’t ask for any of this!" I shouted back. "I didn’t ask to be dragged to his quarters. I had no choice."
"You had options!" he roared, stepping towards me. "You could’ve run, you could’ve screamed loud enough to bring someone, you could’ve—something. But instead, you just went along like some helpless little—"
"Don’t you dare finish that sentence," I warned, struggling to my feet despite the way the room spun around me. "I’m not helpless. I survived in that dormitory with those boys calling me names and threatening me. I would have found a way to survive, Marcus, too."
"How?" Slater demanded. "By revealing that you’re actually an Alpha’s daughter? By shifting and tearing his throat out? Because that’s about the only way you would have been able to stop him."
"Maybe that would have been better than this!" I screamed, gesturing wildly around the room. "Maybe I should have just stayed home and married Darian Blackmoor like my father wanted! At least then I’d know what kind of monster I was dealing with!"
"What?" Slater paused for a minute, staring at me. "What did you say?"
I ignored him and scrambled down from the bed.
"I’m talking to you, Charis. What did you say about Darian Blackmoor?"
"Why?" I turned to him, unable to stop the tears streaming down my face from all the fear, exhaustion and desperation of the past few days finally overwhelming me.
"Why do you even care what happens to me? You made it clear enough what you think of me when you sent me that letter and pictures of you and your newfound love."
He went very still. "What are you talking about?"
"Are you going to pretend now? Didn’t you tell me you didn’t want to be shackled with the baby? That you wanted to live life to the fullest and not start changing diapers when you should be out there, making an impact on the world."
"What?" he scoffed. "I never said that. You must—"
"No," I cut him off, wiping angrily at my tears. "I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want your explanations or your excuses. I want to get through this, find a way to avoid marrying that evil and disappear somewhere you or my family will never see me again."
"Charis," he scoffed. "You rejected me. You broke off our engagement and humiliated me in front of my family. I am the victim here."
"And what did you do?" I crossed my arms and faced him.
"Nothing," he scowled at me. "I think you’re insane."
"No, I think I am taking my stance against people like you and my family. This is my life, and I don’t appreciate being scolded like a child when I’ve already been through hell since I came here."
I moved toward what I assumed was the door, but Slater caught my arm before I could take more than a few steps.
"Where do you think you’re going?" he asked.
"Where else? Back to my dormitory. Back to figuring out how to survive this place on my own."
"No." His grip tightened. "You’re staying here."
I turned to him, eyes flashing with malice. "You don’t get to decide that."
"Yes, I do," he snapped. "You can’t go back to shared housing. Your identity would be blown within hours. Do you think you can keep up this disguise while sharing a bathroom with five other boys? While changing? While sleeping in the same room. You will stay here, at least until I figure out a solution."
"What solution?" I laughed bitterly. "You think you can just fix this?"
"I have to," he said. "My reputation is on the line here. Already, delegates have been sent to Duskveil to verify our stories, and if they don’t match, immediate expulsion will follow. If Marcus tries again, because he would—what then? How long before someone realises your scent is different?"
"I’ll talk to Kael," he continued, his voice now calmer. "Maybe we can arrange a transfer under some special training clause or fake mentorship excuse. They would not allow siblings to stay together, so that’s our best bet. But until then, you’ll stay here. The wing is sealed. No one comes in or out without clearance. You’re safe."
"I don’t want to be locked away."
"You won’t be locked away, Charis. You’ll go out and come in like other students, but you’ll sleep here," he said with a note of finality.
We stared at each other silently for a few minutes before I looked away.
"Okay," I said quietly. "I’ll stay for now."
"Good," he said. "There’s soup on the table. Eat something. It’s almost time for school. You don’t want to be missed."
I sighed and moved to the chair, picking up the bowl reluctantly. I didn’t meet his eyes, but I began to eat anyway, each spoonful warming me from inside.
Slater hovered over me for a while, arms crossed, brows furrowed. Then he asked the question I had been avoiding all this time.
"What happened to the baby?"