Chapter 21: ZEPHYRA NOCTARYN’S POV

I did not stay to hear what Kaelric said to Lyssandra.

I didn’t care if he denied it. I didn’t care if he shouted. I didn’t care if he dragged her into an empty classroom and tore her lies apart piece by piece until the truth bled out. None of that could undo what had already happened. Nothing could erase the way the hallway had looked at me like I was a joke all over again. Nothing could erase the image carved into my chest, Lyssandra standing in front of everyone, calm and beautiful and certain, claiming a history with Kaelric so intimate, so devastating, that I suddenly felt like an intruder in a story that had never belonged to me.

I made it to the girls’ restroom at the end of the east wing before the first tear fell.

The moment the door shut behind me, I braced both hands on the sink and bent over like I had been punched. My reflection stared back at me in the mirror, pale, rigid, trembling at the mouth. I looked humiliated. Worse, I looked hurt. I hated that. I hated that after everything, after all the lies and fake kisses and staged affection, this was the thing that broke me. Because this was supposed to be a game. That was what Kaelric had reminded me outside the banquet. A game. A performance. But somewhere between being locked in that changing room and falling asleep against his chest, somewhere between the hallway kisses and the way he looked at me when no one else was watching, I had stopped knowing where the act ended.

And that made me stupid.

A soft knock came on the restroom door, followed by Elowen’s breathless voice. “Zephyra? Open up. Please.”

I unlocked it and let her in. Her cheeks were flushed, her auburn hair messy, and she looked furious enough to burn the whole school down.

“I swear, if they hadn’t held me back, I would’ve ripped Lyssandra’s extensions out one by one,” she hissed, then saw my face and softened. “Oh, babe.”

I looked away. “Don’t.”

She ignored me and wrapped her arms around me. I stayed stiff at first, then let out a shaky breath and sagged against her for one humiliating second before pulling away.

“She’s lying,” Elowen said firmly. “I know she is.”

I laughed bitterly. “Which part?”

“All of it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know her.” She gripped my shoulders. “She wanted attention. She wanted to destroy whatever this is between you and Kaelric.”

“What do we have?” I snapped.

The words hung between us.

And there it was. The truth I had been too proud to say out loud.

I didn’t know.

I didn’t know what Kaelric and I were doing anymore. I didn’t know if he cared or if he was just too good at pretending. I didn’t know if the almost-kiss in the garden had been real or if it only felt real because I wanted it so badly. I didn’t know if he would have kissed Lyssandra back if he hadn’t been caught off guard. I didn’t know if there had ever been a baby. I didn’t know if there had ever been a bond. I didn’t know if I was just another girl he left confused.

The restroom door swung open before Elowen could answer.

Kaelric stepped inside.

He looked wrecked.

Not in the polished, dramatic way boys like him usually did when they wanted sympathy. He looked genuinely furious, his gray eyes hard and wild, his tie half undone, his knuckles scraped raw like he had hit something. The sight of him made my pulse jump despite everything, which only made me angrier.

Elowen moved in front of me instantly. “Absolutely not.”

“Move,” he said, not taking his eyes off me.

“No.”

“Elowen,” I said quietly.

She turned. “Zephyra, don’t.”

“I said move.”

She stared at me, then exhaled sharply. “If he says one stupid thing, I’m breaking his nose.”

“Noted,” Kaelric muttered.

She shot him a murderous glare and stalked toward the door. “You have two minutes.”

Then she was gone.

Kaelric and I stared at each other across the restroom, the air between us thick with hurt, anger, confusion, and too much pride.

He took one step toward me.

I stepped back.

“Zephyra,” he said, and my name in his voice almost broke me. “She lied.”

I folded my arms across my chest like armor. “How convenient.” His jaw tightened. “I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, struggling to stay calm. “There was no child.”

The bluntness made me flinch.

“There was never a pregnancy,” he continued, voice low and controlled. “There was never an abortion. She made that up because she knew exactly how much damage it would do.”

“And the mate bond?” I forced out.

His eyes flashed. “Also a lie.”

I stared at him, searching his face for hesitation, for guilt, for anything that would tell me he was hiding something. But all I saw was rage. And something else under it.

Pain.

“She’s my ex,” he said. “That’s it. We dated. It ended badly. She wanted me back, and when I made it clear I wasn’t interested, she got vindictive.”

“That’s all?” My laugh came out sharp. “She publicly told the entire school she aborted your baby, Kaelric.”

“I know.”

“She said you were fated mates.”

“I know.”

“She kissed you at the banquet!”

“She kissed me,” he snapped. “I pushed her away.”

“For one second, you didn’t.” Just for a moment.

“I was caught off guard,” he said.

“That’s not what it looked like.”

His voice dropped. “You know what you saw.”

Do I?

That question echoed so violently in my head I almost hated him for saying it. Because yes, I had seen him shove her away. But I had also seen the pause. The hesitation. The brief, horrible moment where it had looked possible.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” I whispered.

He took another careful step closer, slower this time, like I was something fragile he was afraid of breaking. “Believe me.”

My chest tightened.

“I can’t,” I said.

He went very still. “Why?”

Because you told me it was a game,  I think I’m falling for you, and I hate it. But I said none of that.

Instead, I looked him in the eye and chose the only thing that would protect me.

“Because you’re a liar too.”

His face shut down instantly.

He gave one slow nod. “Right.” Then he turned and walked out. The door clicked shut behind him, and the sound felt final.

A few minutes later, when I finally left the restroom, the hallway had mostly emptied. I was halfway to the staircase when a calm voice stopped me.

“Miss Noctaryn.”

I turned.

Professor Hilda stood near the faculty corridor, elegant as always, silver hair pinned neatly, sharp eyes fixed on me.

“I believe,” she said carefully, “you may be exactly the student I’ve been looking for.”

I frowned. “For what?”

A faint, knowing smile touched her lips.

“For an opportunity,” she said. “One that could change your future.”