Neumann laughs at my inappropriate remark, shaking his head. "I was hard on you to push you, Clark. You work harder when you're terrified. Someone has to herd you along towards your potential, after all," he looks around the room now, glaring a bit at my friends and my family, who all beam at me. "These ones, I suspect, pet you a little too much."

"Thank you, sir," Rafe says formally, coming forward, but Neumann just waves a hand at him, turning his attention back to me. I grin, a little pleased to have a professor pay more attention to me than Rafe, who is usually the golden boy.

"Don't listen to what those other Cadets said at the final test, either," Neumann says, stern. "Do you hear me on that? Half of them failed anyway, so they don't know what they're talking about. You're very promising, and we're incredibly excited about your future in the department. Not every successful cadet needs to be a bastion of physical force in order to be useful to the nation's military. Understood?" I nod eagerly, tucking my hands behind my back and straightening my shoulders, bolstered by the fact that he believes in me. And, quite frankly, the fact that half my classmates failed out.

Jerks.

"And," Neumann says, leaning forward to speak softly to me now, conspiratorial, "if any King has any particular objections on the matter, you can tell him that I said that. And that if he has any questions about your aptitude and potential, that he can ask me directly. I want you here in the Spring, Cadet... Clark."

My mouth drops open a little as I realize that Neumann... knows. He has perhaps always known.

giving a sharp nod and then turning away and striding down the hall. "I wish you all a happy winter break!" he calls to us, "get it out

after him, shock

group of Alphas standing in the room, all quietly

I shout, punching my fists up into the air,

around, and then I'm passed from arms to arms as everyone hugs me, and kisses my cheeks, and tells me how wonderful

joy of it, when someone clears their throat at

to see Jackson standing there, frowning around at us. "What's going on

to him, and I can hear in his voice that

over Jackson's face. "What," he says, slowly, looking around at

smile, pleased as hell that Jackson's completely unperturbed by the news - that

beckoning me with a wave of his hand. I laugh and suddenly my feet are flying across the room. I throw myself into Jackson's arms,

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