Chapter 70: ONE MONTH LATER

AINA

One month.

Thirty agonizing, endless days of dodging blood-thirsty nobles, nursing freshly inflicted bruises, and praying to goddess that Headmaster Roiner would magically materialize to restore order to Moonside Academy. He hadn’t. The academy remained an absolute lawless jungle ruled by wild, bored predators, and Aina was stuck right at the absolute bottom of the food chain.

Today was the eve of the grand inter-academy tournament, and the entire campus was buzzing with a manic, electric energy. Everyone was packing, whispering about the school trip, and practically vibrating with excitement. Aina, however, was currently standing on the sidelines of the grand outdoor coliseum, clutching a heavy plastic laundry hamper to her chest and trying her absolute best to blend into the stone wall behind her.

Below on the massive, dirt-floored arena, the mock game between the Shadow Fangs and the Sun Claws was reaching its violent climax.

Dust billowed into the afternoon sky as the players collided with the sound of snapping bone and roaring thunder. Aina watched with wide eyes, her pulse thrumming nervously in her throat. She searched the crowd of players out of habit, but as usual, Prince Vance was nowhere to be found. He had ghosted the public eye weeks ago, leaving his two chaotic brothers to run rampant over the students.

And run rampant they did.

Down on the field, Prince Malric and Prince Theo were currently hounding the Lycan players like starved apex predators. Malric moved fast, his dark eyes gleaming with ruthless amusement as he side-stepped a massive shadowfang defender, slamming his shoulder into the boy’s chest with enough raw force to send him flying ten feet backward into the dirt.

"Is that all you’ve got?!" Theo roared, as he ran to the other side of the field scoring a point.

The stadium erupted into deafening cheers. The scoreboard flashed red and gold. The Sun-Claws as usual won and even though it was a mock game people were here to see it.

Well, my life might be an actual pile of dog poop right now, but at least I’m not down there getting my ribs shattered for sport. I just have to clean up after these monstrous gladiator boys. It’s fine. I’m fine. At least I’m not going to die on the field today. Aina looked to the princes on the field forever grateful her hand shattered into a million pieces.

The instant the final whistle blew, the players dispersed toward the showers. Aina let out a long, weary sigh, hauled her heavy hamper, and marched straight into the belly of the beast, the place she hated the most, the main male communal washrooms.

The air inside was thick, humid, and suffocating, reeking of hot steam, heavy soaps, and the overwhelming, metallic tang of sweaty Alpha and Delta pheromones. Aina wrinkled her nose, internally gagging as she began ducking between the benches, snatching up abandoned, damp towels off the tiled floor. It was her job to clean after the players since she wasn’t contributing on the field. You’d think one would get kicked off the team if they were hurt but Nope! You are put to work.

"Ugh, seriously? Do these people think towels magically walk themselves to the laundry?" she muttered under her breath, tossing a soggy, gross towel into her basket.

"Heads up, Whitelock!" a booming voice shouted.

Before Aina could react, a wet, foul-smelling towel flew through the steam and smacked her directly in the face with a heavy thwack.

It dropped to the floor at her feet. Aina stood frozen, her hands trembling violently in rage as the rancid smell of sweat and damp fabric coated her skin. The player who threw it laughed lazily with his friends as they walked toward the steam heads, completely unbothered.

Aina squeezed her eyes shut, taking a sharp, shaky breath through her teeth, forcing herself not to pick up a bench and bash him over the head with it. Patience, Aina. Survival first. Murder second.

Bzzzz.

Her phone vibrated sharply against her thigh in her pocket. Grateful for the distraction, Aina dropped to one knee, pulled out her phone, and tapped the screen.

Ally:

DO NOT go down the eastern hallway when you’re done! Sophia is lurking near the grand arch with Iris and Greta. They are looking for you and they literally want to beat you into a pulp today. Stay away!!

Aina stared at the text, her jaw tightening. She typed back frantically with her thumb.

Aina:

Oh, thanks for that.

Aina was so over this her expression remaid a flat, deadpan grimace of absolute exhaustion. She hit send, got up and because her eyes were glued to the glowing screen, she took one blind step forward. Her boot caught the thick, bare ankle of a giant standing right in front of her.

"Whoa—!" Aina gasped, losing her footing entirely.

Her phone flew out of her hand, her laundry hamper clattered to the floor, and Aina went crashing down hard onto the wet tiles, her knees taking the full force of the impact. "Ow! Dammit...YOU"

"Watch where you’re going, Whitelock," a deep, smooth voice purred directly above her.

Aina froze, her heart instantly leaping straight into her throat. She slowly raised her head, her eyes tracking up a pair of massive, bare legs, thighs and a di- instantly snapped her gaze straight ahead, staring aggressively at the wall tiles.

It was Theo, like everyone else he was naked, dick out and everything. Aina squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the burning flush creeping up her neck. Do not look. Do not look at his dick Aina, get a grip.

Theo stepped closer, towering over her on the wet floor, his damp hair dripping water onto his broad, bare shoulders. He crossed his arms over his chest, smirking down at her huddled form.

"What did you want to say?" Theo taunted, his voice rich with dangerous amusement. "You looked like you wanted to say something when you tripped over me, Whitelock. Say it now. Come on."

Aina locked her jaw now staring resolutely at his ankles. "No," she squeezed out, forcing her voice to be as flat and devoid of emotion as shifterly possible. "I didn’t want to say anything."

Theo chuckled, a low, arrogant rumble in his chest. "Good boy. Know your place." Before he could torment her any further, the sharp, shrill ring of the mid-afternoon bell chimed throughout the stadium block. Lunch break for the athletes.

Again saved by the bell, Aina sighed relieved.

Instantly, the atmosphere changed. The smell of hot food wafting from the nearby athletic cafeteria hit the air, and the room full of tired, sweaty boys turned into a pack of wild, ravenous beasts.

"Food!" someone yelled.

"First one to the buffet gets the prime ribs!" another shouted.

Like a herd of panicked cattle, the naked, shinny butted players sprinted out of the washroom, slamming doors and shouting as they bolted toward the locker rooms to grab clothes and reach the cafeteria first.

Aina stayed dropped on the floor until the sound of their heavy footsteps completely faded away. As traumatizing as that sudden naked stampede had been, she let out a massive, shuddering breath of genuine relief.

"Thank goodness," she whispered to the empty room. "They’re gone."

She scrambled to her feet, picked up her phone, scooped up her scattered laundry hamper, and quickly finished tossing the remaining smelly towels into the basket.

As she walked toward the back exit, a faint, distinct scent caught her nose. It wasn’t the gross sweat of the other players, it smelt delicious like she was perfectly capable of licking the owner of the scent. Aina paused, her eyes narrowing as she turned toward the heavy metal doors of the sauna room.

Yes, of course the school has a private sauna, she thought bitterly. She crept closer to the doors and took a pick using the small glass window of the metal doors.

Sitting alone on the top wooden bench inside the steam-filled room was Prince Malric. He was completely relaxed, a single white towel draped casually over his lap, his head tilted back against the wooden support beams, his long legs stretched out, and his dark eyes closed tightly. He looked completely unbothered, soaking in the heat.

Aina stared at his calm, handsome, arrogant face. Is he... actually asleep? she wondered, her eyebrows raising.

She shook her head with a scowl. Goddess, I hope he never wakes up. I hope he rots right on that wooden bench.

Bzzzz.