Chapter 13: The Principal’s Office

Roxanne sat on the edge of her bed, still feeling strangely aware of her own body.

Her head ached, a dull throb behind her eyes. Bruises mapped themselves across her arms, a few scratches stinging where the fabric of her shirt brushed against them. But that was all. No fractures. No broken ribs. Nothing close to what should have happened to someone who’d fallen three stories onto solid ground.

She flexed her fingers slowly, testing them, half expecting pain to catch up to her the way it hadn’t yet.

The door burst open before she could think too hard about it, and Isla threw herself across the room, wrapping her arms around Roxanne so tightly it nearly knocked the breath out of her.

"You’re okay," Isla said, pulling back almost immediately to check her over, hands hovering across her arms, her face, searching for anything she might have missed. "Does anything hurt? Are you dizzy? Should you even be sitting up?"

"I’m fine, Isla."

Isla stared at her, disbelief written plainly across her face. "You fell three stories."

"I know."

"People don’t just fall three stories and end up with a few scratches."

Roxanne didn’t have an answer for that, so she didn’t try to give one.

Isla studied her for a long moment, something unreadable behind her eyes, before finally saying, only half joking, "Are you secretly a super wolf?"

Roxanne laughed, the sound surprising her. It was the first time she’d laughed since waking up in the infirmary.

But the joke settled somewhere it shouldn’t have, and the memory rose before she could stop it. Standing at the railing. The shove. The ground rushing up too fast to process. The absolute certainty, clear and cold, that she was going to die.

She hadn’t.

She looked down at her own hands, turning them over like they might explain something.

She still didn’t understand how she’d survived. She didn’t understand why Arabella had been willing to go that far just to be rid of her.

The thought settled heavy in her chest, unanswered and unwelcome.

She decided, quietly, that she didn’t have to solve it today. Both mysteries could wait. She refused to let them eat away at whatever was left of her peace.

Isla, noticing the shift in her mood, changed the subject with the subtlety of a wrecking ball.

"I bought cake."

Roxanne blinked. "What?"

"Cake," Isla repeated, already pulling a small box out from under her bed like she’d been hiding contraband. "Not because anything about this is funny. Just because you’re alive, and I wanted to celebrate that."

Roxanne noticed, for the first time, that the room had been tidied. Her books were stacked neatly on her desk. Her water bottle had been refilled. A blanket had been draped over the back of her chair that hadn’t been there before.

Isla had done all of this while Roxanne had been unconscious in the infirmary, worrying, waiting, and then quietly making sure she had everything she needed the second she got back.

No questions about the Moonstones. No mention of her new status at the academy. No expectations.

Just Isla, being exactly the friend she’d been since the first day.

They ate cake sitting cross-legged on Roxanne’s bed, and for a little while, everything felt almost normal.

Eventually, Isla asked, quieter now, "Have you talked to Arabella?"

Roxanne’s mood shifted instantly. "No."

"What are you going to do? Report her? Confront her? Tell someone what actually happened?"

"I don’t want you involved in this."

"Roxanne—"

"I mean it." She met Isla’s eyes. "I can handle myself."

Isla didn’t look happy about it, but she let it go, the way she always did when Roxanne’s voice took on that particular edge.

The next morning, the academy felt different in a way Roxanne couldn’t quite name. Students stared as she and Isla walked toward class. Whispers trailed behind them, quieter than yesterday but somehow worse for it.

Roxanne kept her eyes forward and tried to ignore it.

Then Isla glanced over her shoulder and went still. "Don’t look now, but you’ve got a shadow."

Roxanne turned anyway.

Roshan was several paces behind them, walking at an unhurried pace that matched theirs exactly. She stopped. He stopped also.

She started walking again. A few seconds later, she noticed he hadn’t fallen back. She stopped a second time, turning fully to face him. "Are you following me?"

"Yes."

The bluntness of it caught her off guard. She’d expected a deflection, a joke, something like what Liam would say.

"Why?"

"You’re under royal protection," Roshan said simply. "Someone has to look out for you."

"I don’t need a babysitter."

"I know."

That answer irritated her more than anything he could have argued. "Then piss off."

He didn’t argue. He didn’t even react. He simply kept walking, maintaining the same distance he’d been keeping the entire time.

Roxanne stared after him, incredulous, before turning and marching off with Isla, who was clearly fighting not to laugh.

"Royal Lycans," Roxanne muttered, "are apparently incapable of taking a hint."

Behind them, Roshan didn’t close the distance. He didn’t push. He simply stayed close enough to matter, and far enough not to crowd her, watching her disappear into the crowd without following her the rest of the way.

Roxanne reached the main hallway a few minutes later, distracted enough that she walked straight into someone coming the other direction.

She looked up.

Dorian.

Her mood soured instantly.

His eyes moved over her face, catching on the fading bruises, and something in his expression tightened with what looked like genuine concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

For one brief, humiliating second, some old part of her might have felt something at that. That girl was gone now.

"I’m fine."

"I heard what happened."

Her expression hardened. "Then you should probably pay closer attention to Arabella."

Dorian frowned, confused.

"You better cling to her," Roxanne said. "If she can push me off one building, God knows what floor she’ll choose for you next."

The words landed visibly. He opened his mouth, maybe to say her name, maybe to argue, but she didn’t wait to find out. She walked past him before he could turn the moment into something she didn’t want to give him.

Isla caught up a few steps later. Roxanne was furious, though not entirely at Dorian. She was angry at herself, too, for noticing the concern on his face at all. For the flicker of something she refused to name.

She didn’t want his worry. She didn’t need it. And she absolutely did not want to spend even a second wondering if he regretted anything.

Behind her, Dorian stayed rooted in the hallway, watching her disappear, looking far more unsettled than he had a right to be.

Class did little to calm her down. Roxanne wanted, more than anything, one normal hour. Notes. A lesson. Something uncomplicated.

Instead, the whispers found her there too.

"Arabella’s not here today."

"I heard she’s being punished."

"Maybe she’s just avoiding everyone after what happened."

Roxanne’s attention sharpened despite herself. She didn’t know why Arabella was absent, and she didn’t know what the academy intended to do about any of it.

Before she could ask anyone, the classroom door opened. A staff member stood in the doorway, and the entire room fell silent. "Roxanne Silver?"

Every head turned toward her.

Roxanne rose slowly, her stomach tightening.

"You’re needed in the principal’s office."

She hadn’t done anything. At least, she didn’t think she had.

She glanced at Isla, who looked just as lost as she felt, then gathered her things and followed the staff member out into the hallway, one thought circling endlessly in her mind.

What does the principal want with me?

The walk felt longer than it should have. When she finally reached the office door, she lifted her hand to knock.

Before her knuckles could touch the wood, the door swung open from the inside.

Someone was already standing there, waiting for her.