The Hidden Princess At All-Boys Alpha Academy

Chapter 16

The rest of the bouts around us begin to end pretty quickly, with Lieutenants moving around the room recording the results. Rafe and I sit quietly together in my circle and, even as my mind whirls fruitlessly, trying to figure out what the hell just happened, my eyes scan the room for Jesse and for

Luca.

Did they win? Did they keep their place high in the rankings?

“If you’re finished,” a Lieutenant says, stopping by our circle, “you should go to lunch.” He nods towards the door before he moves on.

“Come on,” Rafe says, standing up and grasping me by the arm to pull me with him.

“I can stand,” I mutter, even though he’s already pulled me to his feet.

Rafe doesn’t say anything, but he keeps hand on me as we move towards the gym door and towards the barracks cafeteria. As we get into the lunch line which I’m pleased to see we’re at the start of, lucky us – I turn to him suddenly, realizing that I’ve been too lost in my own thoughts to ask.

“Wait, did you win?” I ask, eager.

Rafe just glances at me and rolls his eyes, because duh, of course he did. I laugh, unable to help it.

“You don’t have to be so smug about it, Rafe,” I sigh, heaping mashed potatoes and gravy onto my plate along side the roast meat and peas.

“I’m not being smug, it’s just that the outcome of my bout was basically predetermined,” he sighs, grabbing two bottles of water and passing me one.

“Well so was mine,” I say as we carry our trays over to our usual table. I grin as I see Jesse coming through the door, Luca at his side. Jesse waves to us as he and Luca jog towards the food line. “But my result did not match the odds.”

Rafe settles across the table from me and frowns. “Yeah, we need to talk more about that,” he murmurs. “What the hell happened? Tell me everything.”

“Um,” I say, starting on my food, for which I genuinely am hungry today. “It all happened very fast…” I hesitate and then say what I can, about how Jackson basically had me pinned before he inexplicably bailed. As I speak, I look around the room for Jackson, who frankly should have been the first person in here.

nowhere in

not going to tell him what I suspect to be the truth that Jackson got of my scent and realized that he might be murdering his

that out, why did he just….leave? Why didn’t he say anything, or confront

enough to jump a little

to Rafe’s. Luca nods around to us in a friendly way and looks at me with commiseration in his eyes. “How’d it

Rafe says with a casual

unfair that they put top versus bottom, even though it works out well for those in

shame, Shrimp,” Luca says, his mouth twisting with regret as he looks at me. “Seriously, do you have a hidden skill or something? Or are you crazy smart?

says dryly, interrupting Luca while concentrating coldly on his lunch, “are you assuming that

stops mid–sentence, looking between Rafe and me. I raise my eyebrow at him, adopting an arrogance that I absolutely have not

breathes, and then he starts to laugh. “No way!” he says again, a shout this time, and he wraps his arms around my shoulders, rocking me back and forth. “What

deal,” I sigh, though I blush a little, because it kind of is a big deal. I mean, there are more tests coming, but this one will give me a significant boost in the ratings that I absolutely need, especially considering that I’m still coming in last in the obstacle

“Are you

thick with disbelief as he leans forward to stare

to underestimate me so much, Grant,” I say, my voice dry as I pretend to concentrate on my food. “Or I’ll take you

help the little smile that pulls at my lips. My brother looks up at me then with a small smirk on his mouth, pleased with me and proud. Because even if I didn’t really win the

easy conversation then, eating our food hastily because we know the day isn’t nearly

rows, a pack of paper and a pencil neatly set on each one. New ratings haven’t been calculated just yet, so I’m in the back row again with Ben

brother

grin, liking his easy sense of

notice a bunch of figures in black enter the room, spreading

whisper, leaning

he whispers back. “They’re probably specialty subjects. They’re allowed to come down and note any candidates who they think might be worthwhile,

wide as they focus on one professor in particular with a handsome, angular face, his dark hair pulled back into a knot at the back of his

down at the papers on our desks, the cover sheet marked with our candidate