Adeline’s pov~
I leaned closer, my voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper that was meant for him alone.
"Don’t mess with me," I breathed, the words slicing through the heavy air. "I won’t come before you. I won’t mess with you or the other Lycan princes either. I will stay away from all four of you from now on if that’s all you want, including Raven. So stay the fuck out of my way."
A single, hot tear filled my eye at the sudden, violent memory of last night—the dark forest, the heavy boots, the threats. My chest heaved against my bruised ribs, but I forced the tear back. I refused to let it fall in front of him.
Zyran didn’t move. He stood completely frozen, his eyes glued to the dark purple bruise on my cheekbone and the raw split on my lower lip. The terrifying, volcanic fury in his expression suddenly cracked, replaced by a deep, unsettling shock. For the first time, the arrogant prince looked entirely speechless.
Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked away.
A heavy, terrified silence followed me. Hundreds of students watched in absolute shock, whispering in hushed, frightened tones as I cut through the crowd. No one dared to block my path. Sierra, her face pale with fright, quickly scurried after me, trying to keep up with my hurried, painful strides.
Author’s pov~
Back in the centre of the courtyard, Zyran remained completely still, his hand slowly rising to touch the burning red mark on his jaw.
"What the hell was that, man?" Blake’s voice broke the silence. The lazy playboy smirk was entirely gone as he and Keiran stepped out of the shadows, immediately grabbing Zyran by the shoulders and pulling him away from the whispering crowd into a secluded corridor.
Keiran’s lethal amber eyes narrowed, his gaze tracking the retreating shadow of my black hoodie before locking onto Zyran. His voice was a low, gravelly rasp. "You know something. Something is wrong. What exactly happened between you two last night?"
"Between who?"
A low, commanding voice cut through the tension. Raven stepped into the corridor, his broad shoulders instantly throwing the small space into shadow. His face was still a strict mask of stone, completely clean of the chaos that had just unfolded in the courtyard. He had just returned from sending the prisoners to the lower cells. He had absolutely no idea what had just happened.
Zyran didn’t even look up. He was completely lost somewhere dark, his dark eyes staring blankly at the stone floor. His fingers were still lightly pressing against the dark red handprint blooming on his jaw, his mind entirely consumed by the image of the purple bruise on Adeline’s cheek. The arrogant, untouchable prince was completely muted.
Blake immediately stepped in, his mind racing. He knew the volatile dynamics of the Four Thrones better than anyone. If Raven found out that Adeline had just publicly slapped Zyran—and that something brutal had clearly happened between them last night—the future Lycan King would completely lose his mind. The royal Lycan fury would tear the campus apart, especially after he warned everyone of us.
"It’s nothing, bro," Blake said smoothly, flashing a quick, lazy smile to ease the heavy air. He casually threw an arm over Raven’s shoulder, guiding his eyes away from Zyran’s stunned face. "Just planning who is gonna fight at the combat training later today. Zyran’s just being a dramatic bastard about his matchups, as usual."
Raven’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sliding past Blake to lock onto Zyran’s rigid, silent frame. A royal Lycan’s instincts were never easily fooled. He could smell the lingering scent of sharp adrenaline, shock, and the faint, bitter trace of Zyran’s volatile aura in the air.
"You look pathetic, Zyran," Raven rumbled, his voice dropping into a suspicious, low warning. "Since when do you freeze up over a combat schedule?"
Zyran finally dropped his hand from his jaw, his dark eyes slowly shifting to meet Raven’s. For a split second, the truth threatened to spill from his lips—the guilt, the shock, the sudden realisation that his hired hounds had crossed a line he never intended. But his highborn pride locked back into place.
"I’m fine," Zyran muttered, his voice unusually quiet, stripped of all its signature, mocking melody. He adjusted his collar, turning his face slightly into the shadows to hide the mark of Adeline’s palm. "Blake’s right. Let’s just get to the training hall."
Keiran stood perfectly still in the corner, his arms crossed over his massive chest. He didn’t say a single word to back up Blake’s lie. His lethal, calculating eyes remained fixed on Zyran, dissecting every micro-expression on the prince’s face. Keiran knew the smell of fear, and he knew the smell of a cover-up. And right now, Zyran smelled entirely guilty.
Adeline’s pov~
Sierra and I had reached the safety of the main academic corridor. My breath came in sharp, agonising gasps, each one sending a stabbing reminder through my bruised ribcage.
"Adeline..." Sierra whispered, her voice trembling so hard she could barely get the words out. She scrambled to keep up with my long, hurried strides the second we cleared the heavy oak doors of the academic hall. "Oh my god... Adeline, what did you just do? You slapped a King. You publicly struck Zyran."
"I did what I had to do," I flatly replied.
The tears I had been fighting so hard finally spilt over, hot and silent beneath the deep shadow of my hood. I didn’t care about the rules anymore. I didn’t care about the consequences or whatever massive war this would spark between their precious thrones. Zyran wanted me to stay away from Raven? Fine. I would give the devil exactly what he wanted. I would never look at Raven again. But Zyran was going to learn that a girl with nothing left to lose doesn’t bow down—she strikes back.
We didn’t stop walking until we reached the deep, quiet hallways, far away from the courtyard and the suffocating weight of the crowd. Sierra was practically vibrating with panic beside me, her eyes darting to every single passing shadow as if she expected Zyran’s enforcers to drop from the ceiling at any second.
"Adeline, seriously, we need to hide or go to someone who can actually protect you or something," Sierra hissed, her voice cracking under the stress. She grabbed my elbow, forcing me to stop in a secluded alcove near the empty alchemy labs. "You don’t understand how these highborns work. Zyran is the Prince of the Third Throne. He controls the entire elite network of this academy. Nobody crosses him and just walks away like it’s nothing!"
"Then let me be the first. I am not going to anyone," I said. My voice cut through her panic like cold iron.
I gently pulled my arm out of her grip, careful not to twist the shoulder those omegas had tried to tear apart just hours ago. "I don’t need anyone’s protection."
Especially not now, I added silently, my stomach twisting into a painful, nauseating knot. Zyran had unleashed literal monsters on me just to keep me away from the Lord Protector. If I ran to Raven now, it would prove everything Zyran suspected. It would make me look like the dependent, manipulative parasite he claimed I was. I would rather bleed out alone in the dark than let Zyran think he had successfully driven me into another man’s arms for safety. I was done relying on Raven.
"But your face—" Sierra gasped, her fingers hovering near her own cheek as she stared at the exposed edge of my jaw under the dim corridor light. "That bruise... and your lip. Did Zyran do that to you? Is that why you hit him?"
A heavy, aching chest pain flared as I looked at her terrified, worried face. She had no idea how dark the world outside those gates really was.
"It doesn’t matter," I muttered, pulling the thick fleece of my hood down even further until my eyes were completely swallowed by the black fabric. "Just promise me, Sierra, you won’t say a word about this to anyone. Not to the professors, not to the other students. Nobody."
Sierra looked at me, her hazel eyes swimming with a mixture of intense fear and fierce loyalty. She could see the pain radiating off me, even if I was trying to hide it behind a blank mask. After a long, agonising beat, she let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Okay. Okay, I promise. I won’t say a word."
"Thank you," I whispered, the split on my lip stinging sharply. "Let’s just get to class."