I strode into the cafeteria, the familiar hum of chatter and clinking trays filling the air. Kiyan, my beta, was at my side, his amber eyes glinting with that annoying mischief he never seemed to shake. 

We made our way to our usual spot, a table near the tall windows overlooking the east courtyard, where the morning light spilt across the polished wood. It was prime real estate, close enough to the food line but far enough from the chaos of the first-years scrambling for seats. 

I dropped into my chair, leaning back with a sigh, already dreading the day.

The air was thick with the scents of baked bread, sweat, and too many wolflings who didn't yet know how to mask their scents. Norsen's elite were scattered across the room, laughing, gossiping, pretending they weren't all here because war and politics had left the world desperate for soldiers.

Kiyan slid into the seat across from me, his grin wider than usual. "You've got a new fan girl," he said under his breath, voice threaded with mischief. "Pretty one too. Shame she's a little off in the head."

I looked at him, unamused. "You really need a new hobby."

He grinned. "I'm serious. She was staring at you during training like she wanted to murder you... or kiss you. Hard to tell which. Either way-hot."

I shot him a flat look, my fingers drumming against the edge of the table. "That's your boredom talking, Kiyan."

He laughed, undeterred, his dark hair falling into his eyes. "Come on, man. You should have seen your face out there. She was staring at you like she wanted to burn a hole through your skull. And those eyes-brown hair, hazel eyes, that intensity? Gotta admit, it was something. Plus, she is smoking hot."

I didn't answer, not because I was offended. Kiyan's sense of humor was a daily torment. He had been my beta since I became the crowned prince of Narth at the age of fifteen. I was familiar with his madness; I lived with it, so it wasn't that. It was because something about what he said caught on. 

The image of her flashed, uninvited, in my head, brown hair, hazel eyes that burned too long, too deep. There was something in that gaze I could not unsee. Not just anger, but more like recognition. It wasn't her weirdness or that cold, piercing gaze that bothered me. It was something else, something deeper.

Her face... those sharp features, the way her eyes seemed to carry a weight I couldn't place, it reminded me of someone. Someone from a long time ago, a memory I couldn't quite grasp. I shook my head, trying to get rid of the thought. I was reading too much into it, had to be.

Still, it was bothering the hell out of me.

I dropped into my seat, propping an elbow on the table, watching the cafeteria swirl in motion.

"You're imagining things," I muttered more to myself than to him. "She's just another student, an insolent wolfling."

Kiyan shrugged, smug. "Whatever you say, your highness."

Before I could respond, a familiar scent hit the air, a sharp mix of midnight lilies and honeycomb. A moment later, Seraphine Nightwell, Kiyan's fated mate, was sliding effortlessly into Kiyan's lap, her silver hair falling across his chest like moonlight. She kissed him-long, unapologetic, and so indecent that half the cafeteria turned to look. 

They stayed kissing like they had not just spent the morning tangled up in his room down the hall.

She had just snuck out of his room this morning before dawn. I knew because I had passed her in the hall on my way back from one of the private rooms in the female dorms at the east wing.

"Do you two ever stop?" I asked, my tone dry enough to crack glass.

Kiyan grinned against her mouth. "Not when the gods bless me like this."

Ugh, they made me sick. Ever since they found each other at the coming-of-age festival for the first year, I have been visually assaulted and forced to watch their love blossom. It was a miracle they didn't have a litter of baby wolves running around already.

 I rolled my eyes, turning my attention to the window, where the campus sprawled out under a bright blue sky.

Seraphine laughed, twisting in his lap to face me. "What's with the face, Draven? You look like someone told you your claws have gone dull."

Before I could respond, Kiyan jumped in, eager to stir more chaos. "He's in a mood because of his new fan girl."

Seraphine perked up, eyes glinting. "A fan girl?"

I snorted, leaning forward. "Don't listen to him, Sera. He's full of it."

Kiyan nodded, looking far too pleased with himself. "Yes, baby, a fan girl. Pretty little thing. Weird as hell though. Caught her staring at him like he hung the moon. I swear, he looked two seconds away from kissing her when I walked in."

"That's enough," I muttered, shooting him a warning look.

Seraphine's grin turned wicked. "Oh, now I definitely need to hear this."

I smirked, sensing an opportunity to turn the tables. "Speaking of telling everything, Kiyan," I said, my tone light but pointed, "how exactly did you notice she was pretty? I thought you only had eyes for Sera."

Kiyan froze.

I turned my gaze on Seraphine, voice low and teasing. "Are you really going to let him go around staring at other women? I suppose that's not what loyal mates do, now, is it?"

Seraphine's expression darkened instantly. "Kiyan? How do you know she's pretty?"

He groaned. "Oh for-Aklan, you're the devil."

Their argument started in seconds-sharp, biting, entirely predictable. I leaned back, crossing my arms, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips as they started bickering. Kiyan tried to backpedal, stammering about how he was just observing, while Seraphine poked his chest, her voice rising. It was almost too easy to shut him up. 

Then I heard her voice.

"What girl?"

It was soft, lilting, but carried the kind of danger only a certain kind of woman could wield.

Valora Gravesend.

I didn't need to look to know it was her. The room seemed to shift when she walked in like gravity remembered itself, but I turned anyway, catching sight of her as she sauntered toward us.

Her deep purple corset dress hugged her frame, short in the front to show off her thighs, with a long, dramatic tail trailing behind her. A chain of dark amethysts glinted around her throat. She was a vision, as always, but I wasn't in the mood for her theatrics today.

She slid into the chair beside me, her dark eyes glinting with that possessive edge she liked to play up, even though she knew exactly what our deal was.

"So, who do I have to kill?" she asked, her voice light but laced with a threat that wasn't entirely a joke.

I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. "Calm down, Val. It's nothing."

Kiyan, ever the instigator, flashed her a sweet smile. "No dark magic on school grounds, Valora. You know the rules."

She tilted her head, her lips curving into a dangerous smile as she looked at me. "Only if the girls keep their hands to themselves."

Seraphine rolled her eyes, muttering something under her breath that I didn't catch but was probably scathing. The bad blood between her and Valora was no secret, and neither Kiyan nor I ever bothered to wade into that mess.

The murky waters between a powerful Warlock and a Wyseath princess? Definitely not Lycan territory. Even Valora, a powerful warlock that she was, knew better than to mess with a water wolf; the entire realm of shifters knew damn well the Wyseath were not to be trifled with, and Seraphine, sweet as she was, was just as dangerous and powerful, if not more than Valora.

Valora ignored Seraphine, her gaze fixed on me.

"Something's got you puzzled," she said, her voice softer now, almost concerned. "What is it?"

I shook my head, forcing a casual shrug. "Just stressed."

"Do you have classes in the next hour?" She asked expectantly.

"No, I don't, why?" I glanced at my wristwatch.

She studied me for a moment, then leaned closer, her hand brushing my arm knowingly. "I know just the thing to take the edge off."

Kiyan groaned loudly. "Gods, please don't."

Seraphine made a disgusted sound, burying her face in Kiyan's shoulder. "You two need to get a room."

Valora smirked, standing and grabbing my wrist as she did. "We're going to do exactly that."

As she pulled me to my feet, Kiyan called after us, "Use condoms, please! No warlock-lycan hybrids, please. The last thing this academy needs is a baby with fangs and telekinesis."

A low laugh escaped me despite myself.

Valora's nails traced lightly along my arm as she led me toward the doors, her perfume lingering like a spell. I followed, outwardly calm, inwardly detached. She was beautiful, deadly, everything a man should want, should fear-and yet, I felt nothing for her beyond the dull familiarity of comfort and power; she knew it too. I had never lied to her, and our arrangement had always been clear.

Casual sex, great company, solid friendship. No romantic feelings, no wanting more, because that? I could not give.

I didn't do love, and I was not interested in it. All I needed was a strong, powerful mate who would solidify my claim as heir to the throne, and Valora understood that. Most of the time.

Still, even as she pulled me through the door, her laughter spilling through the corridor, that other face flickered in my mind.

Those hazel eyes.

That impossible intensity.

And the memory of a battlefield long gone cold, where a boy I once called my friend lay dying beneath my hands.

Rivan.

My jaw tightened.

No. It couldn't be.

I forced the thought away, convincing myself I was imagining the resemblance. Just another student. Just another pretty face with a temper.

But deep down, I knew the truth was circling.

And sooner or later, it was going to land right in front of me.

The second the door to Valora's room clicked shut, she was on me, her hands shoving me against the wall with a force that made the wood creak. Her lips crashed into mine, hungry and relentless, her nails digging into my shoulders as she pressed herself closer. I couldn't help the low giggle that escaped into the kiss, the sudden intensity catching me off guard.

I laughed against her mouth, half caught off guard, half entertained. "What's gotten into you?"

She drew back just enough to murmur, "What do you mean?"

I tilted my head, watching her through half-lidded eyes. "We spent the night together. I left your room just this morning, you're acting like you haven't seen me in weeks. Didn't think you'd be this-" I smirked. "Insatiable."

Her answering grin was slow, predatory. "Maybe I am. Maybe I need you too often for my own good."

I could've laughed again if it didn't sound so true.

She stepped back, her movements deliberate as she made a show of undressing. The purple corset dress she'd been wearing slid to the floor, revealing smooth skin and curves that never failed to pull my attention. It was always a performance with her - Valora never moved without the intent to be watched.

I exhaled through my nose, amused, until my hands found her waist again.

I leaned against the wall, watching her with a raised brow. "You do love your dramatics, don't you?"

Her eyes flicked to mine, wicked amusement in them. "And you love to watch."

She wasn't wrong.

I smirked, my own shirt hitting the ground as I followed her lead. I closed the distance between us, grabbing her waist and spinning her so her chest pressed against the wall. She gasped - half surprise, half anticipation. Her head tilted back, her breath unsteady. I could feel her pulse racing against my fingertips.

My fingers worked quickly, unbuckling my belt with a sharp snap. "Hands back," I ordered, my voice low.

Valora complied, stretching her arms behind her, and I looped the belt around her wrists, pulling it tight. She let out a soft whimper, her body already trembling with anticipation. But instead of closing the gap, I stepped back, leaning against the opposite wall, my eyes locked on hers.

She twisted her head to look at me, confusion flickering across her face. "Aklan? What are you doing?"

"Don't move," I said quietly, dragging a hand through my hair. "Tell me something first."

She blinked, wary. "Tell you what?"

I crossed my arms, my gaze steady. "What's our arrangement, Valora?"

Her frown deepened, her bare shoulders tensing. "Why are you asking me that now? I'm practically naked."

"Because this is the only time I know you'll be truthful," I said, my tone sharp. "When you're desperate. So, what's our arrangement?"

Her brows knit together. "You're impossible."

"Humor me."

She stared at me, confusion flickering into a faint smile. "We agreed it's casual. No promises. No emotions."

I nodded, stepping closer but not touching her yet. "Good. Now, what was that earlier, in the cafeteria? Asking who you had to kill?"

Her expression softened, and she let out another small whimper, shifting against the wall. "It was just a joke, Aklan. Harmless."

I tilted my head, studying her. "I don't believe you. You get possessive, Val. Too possessive. I need to know you're not going to pull what you did the first year again. You promised me you wouldn't do anything stupid because of me."

"Aklan-"

"No," I cut in, voice sharper now. "You've done reckless things before."

"I won't," she said quickly, her voice pleading. "I swear, I won't."

I wanted to believe her. Saints, I did. But belief wasn't something I afforded easily anymore.

"Good," I said after a long pause.

I held her gaze for a moment longer, searching for any hint of a lie. Satisfied, I closed the distance, turning her to face me. My pants hit the floor, and I pressed myself against her, my fangs grazing her neck just enough to draw a gasp. She melted into me, her body yielding as I guided her to the makeup desk nearby. Using the belt still binding her wrists, I bent her over the desk, pulling her back into each thrust.

My lips brushed her ear as I leaned down. "This is supposed to be quick," I murmured. "I'm not holding back for you."

I quickened my pace, her moans filling the room as the tension built fast and fierce. It didn't take long before our orgasms crashed over us, leaving us both breathless. 

Afterwards, silence settled between us - heavy, spent, my mind already elsewhere. I steadied her, carefully unfastening the belt from her wrists and helping her back into her clothes.

When she was dressed, I pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. She smiled faintly. "You're leaving already?

"I've got class in twenty minutes," I murmured. "And I don't intend to walk in smelling like you."

Her smirk returned, slow and sly. "Shame. I like marking you."

"I'll see you later."

She nodded, still catching her breath, and I slipped out of her room, the door clicking shut behind me.