Chapter 28: Prince Theo

Aina

The high-pitched, metallic chime of the intercom system echoed through the bedroom, jolting Aina awake.

"Attention, students of Moonside Academy. A friendly reminder that evening dinner will be served in the main dining hall at seven o’clock sharp."

Aina let out a low, pathetic groan, burying her face into her pillow. She lazily reached an arm out across the soft sheets, her fingers blindly fumbling around on the nightstand until they hit her phone. She pulled the glowing screen to her face and squinted through her bleary eyes.

6:00 PM.

She had a full hour. "An hour... okay, that’s doable," she mumbled to herself, her voice thick with sleep.

Dragging her legs over the edge of the mattress, she swung her feet down until her bare toes hit the plush rug. Her whole body felt heavy. She leaned her elbows on her knees and rubbed her face, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Goddess, I’m still so full from that lobster earlier. How many times a day do rich people even eat?" She paused, her mind wandering back to her miserable past. Wait, no, that’s stupid. Back at the Whitelock territory, my horrendous stepfamily ate like six times a day. Apparently, you need to devour seven massive meals a day just to feed you and your wolf. .

She rolled her eyes at the thought, pushing herself off the bed. She dragged her feet across the room, shuffling into the sleek ensuite bathroom. She squirted a dollop of toothpaste onto her brush, scrubbing away, before turning on the shower. She stripped off her sweatpants and stepped beneath the warm, cascading water.

As the hot streams ran down her back, soothing her bruised ribs from combat class, Aina leaned her head back against the slate wall. Maybe I was worrying too much, she thought, letting out a quiet breath. Today wasn’t even that bad. Sure, the first day started with mashed potatoes and an identity crisis, and those idiots tried to jump me at my locker... but I survived. I even made actual friends.

The thought made a genuine smile touch her lips. Friends were something she had always assumed were reserved exclusively for her spoiled stepsister, Amalia. Back home, Aina was hidden away in the shadows forced to be a cinderella, while Amalia got the pretty dresses, the laughter, and the companions. Now, Aina was sitting at lunch with a literal princess, a wolf shifter, a Lycan, and a vampire.

She shut off the water, wrapped a plush white towel around her chest, and stepped out onto the bathmat. Reaching for the silver hairdryer sitting on the marble vanity, she looked at her reflection in the mirror and froze.

Her wet, blond hair was plastered against her forehead in a sad, flat bowl cut. It looked tragic. "No man," Aina muttered aloud, crossing her arms and staring disgustedly at her reflection. "This hairstyle is straight-up awful. I can’t go another day looking like a damn nerd, especially when I still have to wear these thick glasses."

She marched back into her bedroom, grabbing her glasses and her phone off the bed. She needed clear vision for this operation. Opening up her browser, she typed into the WolfTube search bar: Cool hairstyles for boys easy to do at home.

A list of results popped up instantly, and her eyes widened at the top video. "Ten million views?!" she gasped, tapping the screen. "Wow. Guess everybody has a bad haircut crisis at least once in their life."

Luckily for her, the academy had stocked the vanity drawers with an array of grooming tools meant for male students fine-toothed combs, professional styling shears, electric clippers, and hair pomade. Aina picked up a pair of heavy chrome shears, testing the tension.

"If I ever get kicked out of this academy," she whispered to herself with a sly grin, "I am stealing all of these fancy tools and selling them on the black market."

Standing squarely in front of the mirror, Aina took a deep breath, lined up her fingers according to the video tutorial, and began to cut. She snipped away the heavy, bowl-shaped fringe, buzzing the sides down into a sharp, clean fade while leaving the top textured and slightly longer.

Fifteen minutes later, she set the shears down and dusted the loose hairs off her shoulders. She looked up into the mirror—and her jaw practically dropped.

The bowl cut was gone. In its place was a sharp, textured wolf-cut crop, with soft fringe framing her face and sharp, clean lines along her jaw. It was the kind of effortlessly handsome male haircut that made heartthrobs in high-school dramas look good.

Aina ran a hand through her newly styled hair, leaning close to the mirror. "Damn," she whispered, a confident smirk spreading across her face. "I’d date myself."

Realizing she had thirty minutes left before dinner, Aina walked back into the bedroom to get dressed. She pulled her red, blue, and gold school uniform out of the closet and held it up against her body. She shook her head in disapproval.

"Nope. I can’t keep sweeping the floor with these trousers," she muttered. "I’m in the academy now. As long as I’m here, I might as well fit in so people stop targeting me for wearing a tent."

Back at the Whitelock estate, her stepfamily had never bought her new clothes. If something ripped or didn’t fit, Aina had to alter it herself, combining old rags into wearable garments. Sewing was second nature to her.

She walked over to the corner of the room, picking up the small, worn backpack she had brought with her. She tipped it upside down

over the bed. Out tumbled a few stolen gold rings, her stepbrother Travis’s spare papers, and right at the bottom, a tiny, tarnished metal tin.

Aina picked up the tin. Inside was a compact sewing kit needles, spools of heavy thread, and a pair of small folding scissors. It was the last gift her grandmother had given her before she passed.

A sudden, tight lump formed in Aina’s throat. She held the little tin against her chest, her eyes glistening. "Grandmother..." she whispered softly, her voice cracking. "If you can see me right now... my life is better. I’m out of that treacherous place." A single, hot tear rolled down her cheek. She quickly swiped it away with the back of her hand, forcing a bright, determined smile onto her face. She wasn’t going to cry tonight.

She laid the baggy uniform pants out on the desk, grabbed her grandmother’s shears, and went to work. She expertly cut away the excess fabric along the inseam, pinned the edges, and threaded her needle. Her fingers moved with practiced speed, stitching tight, hidden seams down the legs, taking in the waist of the trousers, and tailoring the broad shoulders of the blazer so it sat cleanly against her frame.

Ten minutes later, she knotted the final thread and snipped it clean.

Aina slipped into the altered uniform, buttoning up the crisp white shirt, tightening her tie properly this time, and pulling on the tailored blazer. She stepped in front of the full-length mirror near her door.

The transformation was absolute. The uniform fitted her like a glove sharp, tailored, and sleek. She no longer looked like a little boy playing dress-up in her father’s suit. With her new haircut, her fitted uniform, and her dark-framed glasses resting on her nose, she looked completely like a dashing, aristocratic young nobleman.

Aina struck a dramatic pose in the mirror, chuckling to herself. "Yeah. Now I actually look like a princess’s boyfriend. If this whole ’escaping my family’ plan fails, I’m just going to stick to Molly like crazy."

Checking her phone, she saw it was 6:45 PM. Fifteen minutes until dinner.

She grabbed her room key, slipped her phone into her fitted blazer pocket, and turned the lock. Adjusting her glasses, she stepped out into the dark, quiet hallway of the massive dorm, carefully pulling her bedroom door shut behind her. She walked straight down the dimly lit corridor, turning her head back over her shoulder one last time to double-check that her door latch had clicked properly into place.

THUMP.

Because she was looking backward, Aina walked straight, hard, into a solid wall of muscle.

She bounced back slightly, but a pair of broad, calloused hands shot out, catching her firmly by her waist and pulling her back against his chest to steady her. Instantly, an intoxicating, overwhelming scent slammed into Aina’s senses. It was a dark, heady mixture of rich bourbon, lingering cigarette smoke, and deep, ancient cedarwood.

Aina froze, her breath catching in her throat. She stayed pressed against his broad, shirtless chest, entirely paralyzed in a sudden, dizzying trance. Through the thin fabric of his white shirt, she could feel the heat radiating off his bare skin, hard as marble and intricately textured with dark tattoos.

Her wolf spun in her chest. Mate.

The heavy, distinct smell of alcohol clung to him, making her head swim. The only thing that pulled her out of the breathless fog was the sound of a voice—deep, raspy, and dangerously smooth—vibrating right against her ear.

"Oh..." the raspy voice purred. "Look what we have here. You’re... the roommate."

Aina’s heart slammed against her ribs like a sledgehammer. The voice was so deep, so velvety, she felt a shudder run straight down her spine. Slowly, agonizingly, she tilted her head up. Standing over her was Prince Theo.

His thick-framed glasses sat slightly crooked on the bridge of his nose, his dyed red hair tumbled messily over his forehead, and his dark eyes were heavy, unfocused, and completely fixed on her.

They locked eyes, the silence between them pulling tight like a stretched wire. Aina’s chin was practically resting against his chest, and she could feel his heart racing beneath his tattooed skin—a wild, irregular beat that matched her own frantic pulse. Theo’s eyes softened, lingering on her face, her new haircut, her delicate jawline. Slowly, almost unconsciously, he raised a heavy, warm hand, his calloused thumb gently brushing across her cheekbone.

"You’re..." Theo murmured, his raspy voice dropping into an intoxicated, breathy whisper. "You’re the most beautiful boy... and so small..."

He leaned down, bringing his full, hot lips agonizingly close to hers, his heavy breath fanning across her cheek. Aina’s brain went entirely short-circuited. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe.

BRRRRRRING! BRRRRRRING!

The sudden, loud, obnoxious blare of a phone ringing in Theo’s pocket shattered the air like a gunshot.

The spell snapped instantly.

Theo blinked, his pupils contracting as the sudden noise broke through his haze. He stumbled back a step, abruptly releasing his grip on her waist. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his ringing phone, and without a single word or another glance at her, he turned on his heel and slouched off down the hallway toward his own room.

Aina stood frozen in the middle of the corridor, her back pressed against the wall, her cheeks burning like a furnace. Her heart was beating so hard she was convinced it was going to burst out of her tailored blazer. "Oh my Goddess..." Aina wheezed out, placing a trembling hand over her hot face. "What on earth was almost about to happen?!"

She backed away frantically, turning around and bolting down the hall toward the main penthouse exit. As she slammed the front door behind her and sprinted toward the elevator, her frantic mind screamed in sheer, utter desperation:

At this point, the Goddess might as well just put me in a zoo and tell everyone there that they’re my mate! How many am I going to have?! I already have one, two, three, four... math! How many more are left to go?!