The Rejected True Heiress (Liora) novel Chapter 49

Chapter 49

Callum

The silence in the student council room used to bring me peace. Now it just echoed louder than any argument

I’d ever had.

I adjusted the papers in front of me for the fifth time, alignment mattered, right? Or maybe I just couldn’t sit

still knowing she was out there.

Liora, who I’d spent the last 24 hours actively avoiding like she was a curse incarnate. Not that she was. She was… radiant. Sharp–tongued. Smarter than me, if I was being honest. But also cursed, because the closer she

got to me, the more likely she was to be…

I dragged a hand down my face and stared at the stupid festival budget like it was gonna start solving itself. It

wasn’t. Just numbers on paper, clean, easy, predictable. Not like her.

Not like the way she looked around today, clearly hoping someone–anyone–might stand up for her. No one did. Sure, she had Mia, but a wolfless girl protecting a wolfless girl?

Hardly a shield.

And the students were just as relentless as I’d told them they’d be. Tossing food, crumpled paper, dumping her

books in the fountain. Saying crap like “wolfless trash,” like that’s supposed to mean something. Like they

even get half of what she’s worth.

Why didn’t she just leave. Why didn’t she give up?

Her

eyes from that stupid midnight stroll flashed in my head, and my pulse spiked. Which—whatever. It’s

nothing. Just a reflex. Like breathing. Or getting hit in the face with regret.

I’m doing the right thing.

I have to believe that. Even if it makes me feel like absolute garbage. Even if I can’t look, think, about her

without feeling like I’ve betrayed every decent part of myself.

Worst part? She was looking for me all day.

She wanted to talk. She knew something was up. Of course she did.

And I–Gods. I spent the day inventing new ways to humiliate myself just to avoid her. I dove into a hedge at

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Chapter 49

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one point. A hedge. My own fated mate walked past, and I panicked and went full dive squirrel–in–the–bushes.

Then there was the vending machine. Moved behind it so fast I actually messed up my shoulder. Still can’t lift

my arm all the way. Pretty sure that’s permanent for now.

And the worst of all? The rafter thing.

Full–on jump up to the library beams like some bat and just… hung there while she walked underneath, looking for me. Ten solid minutes of shame. I could feel my soul leave my body. Twice.

It was pathetic.

But not as pathetic as the fact that I still wanted to go to her. Even now. Even after everything.

But… I’d made it the whole day.

Maybe that was best. It had to be.

“Still doing your brooding villain arc, huh?” a voice drawled lazily from the window behind me.

I didn’t even flinch. “Per usual, there’s a door, Zane.”

“Per usual, there’s a window,” he replied cheerfully, landing in a crouch on top of the council meeting table like

a cat. “Also I forgot my student keycard again.”

I didn’t respond. I just went back to fake–reading the papers.

Zane dropped onto the chair across from me, spinning it around so the back faced forward like he was about to

deliver a heartfelt lecture about peer pressure. He propped his chin on the wood slats and watched me with

irritating interest.

“So, you

look like you’ve aged twenty years,” he said finally. “Are those eye bags? Our precious Prince Callum’s

falling apart.”

“I’m busy,” I said, not looking at him.

“That’s one word for it,” he muttered.

We sat there in that awkward, too–tight silence. Normally, we’d banter. He’d push, I’d roll my eyes. But today he was… quiet. Not his usual annoying, humming self. The tension tightened like a cord between us.

“Did you need something?” I asked, cold.

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“Depends,” he shrugged. “If you’re gonna be honest, or if we’re about to have a problem.”

My pen stilled on the paper. “Problem?”

“Yep.” His usual goofy grin cut sharper than usual. “Because you’ve pissed me off, Callum.”

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I set the pen down slowly and leaned back in my chair, folding my hands. “Have I? Do enlighten me, how did I manage to rattle the great slacker, Zane?”

“Which should tell you something,” he said, voice low now. “Because if I’m this mad, then yeah, you really,

royally screwed up. We’re doing this, now.”

“Doing what?”

“You. Me. Talking. About Liora.”

My stomach twisted, a flash of heat gripping my neck. “Don’t.”

“Oh, I will.” His eyes narrowed, blue, intense, sharper than they had any right to be. “She’s walking around here with soaked textbooks and bruised feelings while you’re dodging her like you’re some ninja heir. Hanging

from rafters? Seriously?”