Chapter 79 JEALOUSY FLARED
KAI’S POV
The academy didn’t sleep after that.
It pretended to.
The corridors hummed with late-night energy, boots echoing too softly, doors sealing too quietly, eyes lingering half a second longer than usual. Whatever Zara felt in the bond wasn’t paranoia.
We were being watched.
Zara left before dawn.
Not abruptly. Not angry. Just… deliberately. She slid out of my room while I was still half-awake, pressing a kiss to my shoulder that lingered long enough to feel like a decision rather than affection.
“We’ll talk later,”she sent through the bond.
That was never a good sign.
By mid-morning, the academy had shifted into performance mode.
Classes resumed. Training drills ran. Students laughed too loudly. And somehow, miraculously news travelled faster than wards.
By the time I stepped into the east courtyard, I felt it.
Attention.
Not the wary kind. Not the fearful one. Something sharper. Calculated.
“General Alpha.”
I stopped.
She was leaning against the fountain, long dark braid, academy-red lipstick, confidence sharpened like a blade. Nyx Calder. Third-year combat specialist. Dangerous. Ambitious. Known for collecting favours the way others collected scars.
“I don’t recall giving you permission to use my title.” I said.
She smiled anyway.
“Relax,” she replied.
“I’m congratulating you.”
“For what?”
“For surviving Dr. Voss’s notice.” she said smoothly.
“Not everyone does.”
I scanned the courtyard instinctively.
Zara stood near the training rings.
Watching.
Nyx stepped closer. Too close.
“You’re… impressive.” she continued.
“Power like yours doesn’t come with loyalty very often.”
My jaw tightened.
“That so?”
She tilted her head.
“Rumor says you’re distracted. Vulnerable. That can be… attractive.”
She reached out.
Touched my arm.
The bond snapped.
Not pain, warning.
Across the courtyard, Zara turned away.
That was worse.
I stepped back immediately.
“You should move your hand.”
Nyx laughed softly.
“Relax. I’m not trying to steal you.”
“You are,” I said flatly.
Her eyes flickered, intrigued.
“Interesting,” she murmured.
“She feels it too, doesn’t she?”
I said nothing.
Nyx leaned in anyway, voice low.
“You should tell her not to get careless. Power attracts competition.”
Then she walked away like she’d won something.
I didn’t chase her.
I chased the bond.
Zara didn’t go to class.
She went to the upper training decks, the open-air platforms meant for duels, moon practice, and controlled aggression.
By the time I arrived, she was already there.
With him.
I stopped short.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, wearing the insignia of the Outer Packs. Joren Vale. Calm. Smiling too easily. His hand rested on the railing beside Zara’s, close enough to imply comfort.
Too close.
They were laughing.
I hated how natural it looked.
Zara felt me before she saw me.
Her shoulders stiffened, but she didn’t turn.
Instead, she leaned slightly closer to Joren.
On purpose.
Something ugly and possessive flared in my chest.
“Didn’t know you trained here,” I said coolly.
They both turned.
Joren smiled openly.
“Kai, right? General Alpha?”
I clenched my jaw.
Zara met my eyes, challenging. Daring.
“You disappeared,” she said.
“I was being watched.”
“So was I,” she replied evenly.
Joren glanced between us, sensing the tension.
“I can come back later.”
“No,” Zara said.
“You were showing me the balance forms.”
I stared at her.
Balance forms?
She knew exactly what she was doing.
I smiled tight. Dangerous.
“Enjoy.”
I turned to leave.
Her pulse spiked through the bond.
“Don’t walk away,“ she sent.
“You’re the one who left first,“ I shot back.
The bond crackled.
Joren cleared his throat.
“I’ll… give you space.”
He left.
Silence slammed down between us.
“You let her touch you,” Zara said immediately.
“You let him flirt with you,” I snapped.
Her eyes flashed.
“He didn’t touch me.”
“He wanted to.”
“So did she.”
That hit.
We stood there, breathing hard, power coiling tight and volatile between us.
“You think this is funny?” I asked.
“No,” she said quietly.
“I think it’s inevitable.”
“That people try to use us?”
“That they’ll try to wedge themselves into the cracks.” she replied.
“And you didn’t reassure me.”
I stepped closer.
“You didn’t give me the chance.”
Her voice dropped.
“I needed to know if you’d come anyway.”
I stopped an inch from her.
“Is that what this was?” I asked.
“A test?”
Her gaze softened just slightly.
“Everything here is.”
The bond surged, anger, jealousy, want, fear, all tangled together until it was impossible to separate them.
“Say it,” I said.
“What?”
“That you didn’t enjoy it.”
She hesitated.
Just long enough to hurt.
“I enjoyed knowing you felt it,” she admitted.
Something snapped.
I grabbed her wrist, not hard, but firm enough to pull her toward me. Her breath hitched, power flaring sharp and hot.
“You don’t get to weaponize my fear,” I growled.
“You don’t get to ignore mine,” she shot back.
The bond detonated.
I kissed her.
Hard.
Not gentle. Not careful.
She gasped against my mouth, then kissed me back with equal fury, fingers tangling in my shirt, nails scraping skin. Power surged around us, wild and electric, wards flickering in protest.
I backed her against the railing.
Her legs locked around my waist without hesitation.
“You’re infuriating,” I muttered against her neck.
“Good,” she breathed.
“So are you.”
The kiss deepened, heated, desperate, possessive. Every touch said mine without either of us speaking it aloud. The bond burned bright and volatile, hungry for more than restraint.
Somewhere, alarms trembled.
Neither of us cared.
I broke the kiss just long enough to press my forehead to hers, breathing hard.
“We can’t keep doing this out in the open.”
Her lips brushed mine again.
“Then don’t stop.”
I swore under my breath and pulled her with me as I shifted, space folding, wards bending just enough.
My room.
The door slammed shut behind us.
The academy roared its disapproval.
We ignored it.
What followed wasn’t gentle.
It was raw. Heated. Angry and aching and desperate to reclaim ground we’d almost lost. Every touch was a challenge. Every breath a promise. Jealousy burned itself out into something deeper, something dangerous.
Something unbreakable.
Later, much later, she lay against me, breath slowing, fingers tracing absent patterns into my chest.
“They’ll use this,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“They’ll try to turn it against us.”
“I know.”
She tilted her head, eyes sharp again.
“And?”
I kissed her temple.
“Let them.”
The bond pulsed, steady. Certain.
Outside the room, the academy shifted.
Pieces moved.
And somewhere in the dark, someone smiled.
Because they’d just confirmed what they’d been hoping all along.
Love wasn’t our weakness.
It was the fault line that would tear their world apart.