I looked up from where I stood next to Alpha Raymond.
For a moment, I just stood there, trying to process what I’d heard. The room seemed to tilt as I stared at Slater.
The boy I’d trusted, the one I’d opened my heart to just hours ago, the one whose gentle hands had tended to my wounds this morning—he had betrayed me. The memory of our intimate moment the night before filled me with pain.
I’d felt safe in his arms, loved, protected. I’d trusted his touch again, even though we ended up fighting, I’d still given him pieces of me.
All of it had been a lie.
"What? No!" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "That can’t be true."
When I turned to Slater again, he was already watching me, eyes filled with regret.
I took a step back. "Tell me she’s lying. Tell me that’s not true."
Slater opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come fast enough.
"Slater?" I called out again.
"Eamon, listen to me," he started desperately, taking a step toward me. "It’s not what you think, alright? I didn’t mean for it to go this far—I was angry, okay? You don’t understand what—everything that happened between us. I made a terrible mistake, and I’m sorry."
"You told them," I said, my voice hollow. "You called your father. You brought your father here specifically to expose me. You told them who I was." My voice pitched higher with disbelief. " We-we were together. Last night you—"
"I was hurt, alright?" he exploded, then caught himself and lowered his voice. "You don’t understand—Eamon, I—" he stopped himself, glaring at Peter and Marcus, who had confused expressions on their faces. "I believed things about you that weren’t true," Slater continued. "I thought you had humiliated me that day because of something else."
I turned away from him, unable to bear looking at his face. The betrayal cut deeper than any physical wound my father had ever inflicted on me. At least with my father, I knew what to expect. With Slater, I’d believed, last night helped to mend our broken past. I was wrong.
The boy I’d given my virginity to chose him over my family, who had sworn to protect me always, and had sold me out for revenge.
"I don’t want to hear your excuses," I said.
"Fine, I was angry, but I also wanted to protect you. I wanted you to leave this place!" he shouted. "I didn’t think they’d drag you in here —I didn’t think—"
"Enough of this melodrama," Headmistress Vale interrupted with obvious irritation. She gestured to Marcus and Peter. "Take him out of my office, immediately. I’ve had enough of this emotional display."
Peter moved towards him, with Marcus following closely behind. Slater tried to resist, but they grabbed his arms, dragging him back toward the door.
"Eamon, please!" Slater called out as they dragged him. "Please! You have to believe me—I didn’t mean for this to happen. I—"
But the door slammed behind him, cutting off the rest of his words.
When they took him out, the Headmistress turned to Alpha Raymond, who was glaring at me.
"Alpha, perhaps it would be best if you went out there and tried to talk some sense into your son," she suggested smoothly. "We can continue the meeting privately."
Alpha Raymond nodded and rose to his feet, shooting another glare at me before leaving the office.
The door finally closed, leaving just me and Headmistress Vale. I stared at the floor, my heart was pounding so violently I thought it might explode from my chest, drowning out everything.
Every breath was like swallowing glass, but I knew this was not the time for tears. Not when my entire world was falling apart and I was a train away from going back to Crestborne, and it didn’t help that the one person in the world who I’d hoped would protect me had sold me out.
Headmistress Vale rose from her chair and walked around the desk to perch on its edge directly in front of me.
"Well," she said calmly, crossing her arms, "now that the drama’s out of the way...is there anything you’d like to confess?"
I didn’t say anything.
The Headmistress scoffed, shuffling her feet before she spoke again. "Let me rephrase. Now that the truth about your false identity is out, that is, you’re not from Duskveil pack, you’re not Alpha Raymond’s bastard child, and Slatter Riggs is not your stepbrother, would you like to clear that up? At least tell me who you truly are?"
"I..." I hesitated, then looked up. "What exactly did Alpha Raymond say?"
I had to know that one at least, so I could salvage myself. From what I gathered, Slater only reported me for using a false identity and didn’t mention anything about me being a girl disguised as a boy.
The Headmistress smiled tightly as she stared at me. "Is that your concern at this time?"
"I need to know," I said sullenly. "I won’t confess to what I don’t know about."
She tilted her head and gave me one last look before she spoke. "He denied knowing you. He said he had no son named Eamon, no children outside his legitimate mate, and that he’d never heard of you before." She paused, studying my face. "That was where he stopped speaking before you arrived. Although I knew he still had more to say."
I inhaled sharply—both in relief and panic.
So, he hadn’t revealed my true identity at least.
Still, I was trapped in an impossible situation. I couldn’t continue lying about being from Duskveil pack or claiming Alpha Raymond as my father, but I had no idea what alternative story might save me.
"I can practically see the wheels turning in your head, Eamon," the Headmistress observed with amusement. "You’re realising that your carefully constructed house of lies is collapsing around you, aren’t you? No more claims of family connections, no more false pack affiliations. Just you alone, with nowhere left to hide and no Slater to save you."
"I don’t know what you want me to say," I whispered, my voice cracking with exhaustion and despair.
"The truth would be refreshingly novel," the Headmistress replied. "Your real name, your real pack, your real reasons for infiltrating my academy with forged documents. Are you working for someone? An enemy pack?"
"Then give me answers, Eamon. There’s no reason, Alpha Raymond would travel from the North to come lie."
I opened my mouth and closed it. I wanted to speak—tried to tell her everything, but the words just wouldn’t come. My heart was warring with my instincts.
"I take it you don’t want to confess," the Headmistress said, sighing deeply.
Then she clapped her hands twice.
Two female sentinels entered the office immediately, taking positions on either side of where I stood. Their presence filled the room with a promise of violence that made my blood run cold.
Despite my terror, I tried to maintain what little dignity I had left. "What’s going on?" I asked, trying to keep my voice level.
The Headmistress stood and sauntered back to her chair. "One last chance, Eamon—This is your final opportunity to tell me who you are, and I strongly suggest you take it or I’ll find it out myself."
I swallowed. My hands balled into fists at my sides.
"I’m asking you a question?" the Headmistress screeched, "and I expect an answer. Who are you?"
I stared at the floor, my mind racing through impossible scenarios but finding none that would suit the situation. I was shaking, hoping my brain would come up with something. But still, I had nothing.
The Headmistress’s smile transformed into something truly terrifying—an expression of such cold satisfaction that it made my soul shrivel. She settled into her chair.
For more than a minute, she stared at me, holding my gaze with hypnotic intensity. The silence stretched between us.
Finally, she turned to the waiting sentinels.