Their Hidden Princess (Zora) novel Chapter 20

20 /186

**Where Sleeping Rivers Dream We Follow Trails Toward Tomorrow by Evan Milesa Cade**

Maximus

As Maximus stepped out of the bustling cafeteria, the lively chatter of his peers faded behind him, only to be interrupted by the sound of his name being called. Initially, he assumed it was one of the younger guys, trying to lure him into some ridiculous prank or another foolish endeavor. However, his surprise turned to annoyance when he spotted his sister standing there, arms crossed, with Zora beside her.

The sight of Zora sent a wave of irritation coursing through him. Just hours ago, she had left him in the forest, her fist colliding with his chest like a bolt of electricity, leaving him bewildered and questioning everything. While he was grappling with a whirlwind of emotions, she appeared unfazed, almost carefree. Why was he drawn to such a chaotic spirit, especially one who was a wolfless wolf?

As he approached Zora and Meg, he was about to speak when Zora leaned in and whispered something to Meg before stomping away, her frustration palpable. Maximus sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders as he stood before Meg.

“What now?” he asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache that was beginning to form.

“She thought I was messing with her,” Meg replied bluntly, her tone matter-of-fact. “I was just trying to see if she’d consider going to the Mateball with you.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” Maximus growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I told you to stay out of it.”

Meg crossed her arms defiantly, her eyes narrowing. “I’m trying to help, you know,” she snapped back. “Maybe if you had been kinder to her from the start, instead of acting out your vendetta against the wolfless, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Maximus shot back, his teeth clenched in frustration. “That she was going to turn out to be my fated mate.”

Meg shrugged, an air of indifference surrounding her. She reached out, giving her brother a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Figure it out, baby brother,” she said, her voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and sincerity. “Unless you want to ruin your chance at happiness, again.”

As she walked away, Maximus couldn’t help but growl at her retreating figure. The wolf inside him stirred restlessly, urging him to shift and pursue. But he ignored the primal instinct and turned his focus back to where Zora had stormed off. She was heading back to their dorm, her steps heavy with frustration. He contemplated following her but ultimately decided against it.

Running a hand through his tousled hair, he sighed deeply, looking up at the vast sky above as if seeking guidance from the Gods. He needed to make things right with Zora, to find a way to bridge the chasm that had grown between them.

The first time she had shocked him, he had been appalled, disgusted even. His entire adult life had been dedicated to bringing the wolfless down, to fulfilling a promise he had made to his eldest brother, Morrigan, during his grueling journey of recovery after losing his arm.

Destroy all wolfless.

He had spent the remainder of the day trying to convince himself that this was all a mistake. There was no conceivable way that a wolfless could be his fated mate. He was the strongest third-year at the Academy, while she was, well, nothing.

Yet, when their skin had brushed against each other again, when their heartbeats had synchronized in a frantic rhythm, he knew he had to accept the truth: she was his fated mate. That was why he had followed her into the woods that morning, hoping to tell her the truth and convince her that he wasn’t as terrible as he seemed.

Instead, he had ended up looking like a fool, left reeling after she unexpectedly punched him. He sighed once more, shaking off the remnants of his anger. He had to prove to Zora that he was worthy of her, that he was deserving of being her fated mate.

To hell with the Princess he was supposed to marry. Here was his chance at true happiness, with someone who could make him feel alive and powerful. Surely, the Queen would understand.

He needed to convince Zora to attend the Mateball with him.

The thought of inviting a girl to anything, let alone the Mateball, sent a wave of anxiety through him. The girls he had dated previously had all been drawn to him because of his title as the Son of the High Alpha, not for who he truly was. He racked his brain for which of his friends he could seek advice from.

Peytr was the first name that popped into his head, but Peytr was a jerk. He treated women like mere objects, and Maximus had no intention of following that path, especially not with his fated mate.

Then there was Thorne, but he was equally uninterested in women. Thorne had always preferred the company of history books and magical tomes to that of girls.

Finally, there was Kairos. That option felt like the worst of all. Kairos harbored a deep-seated disdain for Zora. They were scheduled to face off in a sparring match in a few weeks. Yet, Kairos had a way with women, always inviting them to dates and events. If Maximus could ensure that Kairos never discovered his date was Zora, perhaps seeking his advice wouldn’t be such a terrible idea.

With another heavy sigh, Max cursed the Gods one last time before making his way toward Kairos’s room.

Kairos lived alone in a quaint house that Maximus, Peytr, and Thorne had rented behind the gym. The place was steeped in history, having been purchased by Kairos’s grandfather when his first grandchild attended Alpha Academy. It was only natural that Kairos would take up residence there as the last of his line to go through the school.

Maximus ascended the stairs and paused in front of Kairos’s door, contemplating whether to knock. The loud music blaring from inside made it clear that Kairos wouldn’t hear him anyway, so he barged in without hesitation.

Inside, he found Kairos bench pressing in the corner, a staggering three hundred pounds on each side of the bar. Maximus rushed over to help him rerack the weights, concern flooding his voice.