Their Hidden Princess (Zora) novel Chapter 90

The next time I laid eyes on Maximus was during our training session with Valentin. He maintained a noticeable distance, choosing to sit apart from Loren and me during lunch, his gaze barely flicking in my direction during our classes. Yet, despite this emotional distance, he was an ever-present shadow in my life. I couldn’t shake the feeling of his watchful presence—he loomed during Basics, and I could sense him trailing behind me on my way home from dinner, a constant reminder of his existence.

So, it came as a surprise when I spotted him at training that following Monday evening. Thorne was there too, standing with his arms crossed, a posture that screamed reluctance, as though he had better places to be. Maximus mirrored his stance, his eyes darting back and forth between Valentin and me, sharp and alert like a hawk surveying its territory.

Valentin, as usual, appeared unfazed by the dynamics of the younger Alphas. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, observing as I tackled Thorne to the ground. We hit the mat with a thud, and I quickly scrambled to pin my knee firmly into the center of Thorne’s chest.

“Ugh!” Thorne grunted, his arms flailing as he attempted to throw me off. I dug one claw into the mat beside his hand, pinning his arm down by the sleeve of his shirt. My other hand grasped his wrist, twisting it at an awkward angle behind his head. I had him trapped.

“Good,” Valentin commented, his voice steady. “Blythwitch, tap out.”

“Not yet,” Thorne panted, determination etched across his face. “I can— I think—”

“I said tap out, Blythwitch,” Valentin repeated, this time with a commanding tone that brooked no argument.

Thorne continued to struggle beneath me, his body twisting in an effort to escape. He yanked again, and I felt the fabric of his sleeve begin to tear. My claw was dangerously close, and I knew that if he pulled his hand up, the sharp edge of my nails would slice through his skin. He yanked once more, desperation fueling his movements.

“Thorne, don’t—!” I shouted, panic rising in my chest.

But it was too late. With a sudden surge, Thorne freed his arm from my grasp just as my claw grazed his skin, slicing through it like a hot knife through butter. A roar of pain erupted from him, and I instinctively released his other hand. He bucked me off, and I landed to the side with a heavy thud. A chill ran down my spine as I felt the warmth of his blood dripping down my hand, my claws retracting into my human fingers, the reality of what had just happened sinking in.

Thorne sat up, his hand slamming down onto his forearm in a frantic attempt to staunch the flow of blood pooling beneath him. I turned my head away, nausea churning in my stomach at the sight of the crimson liquid.

“Fuck!” Thorne yelled, panic lacing his voice. “Why isn’t it healing?!”

My heart raced as I jerked my head back to look at him. I had been around enough injured Alphas to know that his skin should have been starting to knit itself back together by now. Blood continued to soak the mat beneath him, and his skin hung loosely above the wound, a sight too gruesome to bear.

“Gods be damned,” Valentin groaned, his voice thick with frustration. “Wolfham! Take Blythwitch to the infirmary. Tell the nurse it’s a mate wound.”

My stomach dropped as I glanced at Maximus. His expression had hardened, the realization of Valentin’s words hitting him like a punch to the gut. He rushed to Thorne’s side, hoisting the other Alpha to his feet, and slung Thorne’s uninjured arm over his neck. Together, they stumbled out of the gym, Thorne’s bloodied arm hanging limply.

Once the door slammed shut behind them, Valentin let out a heavy sigh. He surveyed the chaos on the gym mat, his expression one of mild annoyance, as if he were looking at a mess made by a puppy. With a flick of his wrist, the mat began to shift, the deep red stains fading until it returned to its intended dark blue hue. The marks left by my claws seemed to weave themselves back together, as though we had never been there at all.

“I always thought there was some sort of cleaning lady,” I remarked, turning to Valentin. “Turns out, it’s just you.”

Valentin let out a soft snort, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. He looked at me with a blank expression, but there was an undeniable softness in his gaze that was absent when Maximus and Thorne were around. Yet, the dark circles under his eyes betrayed the sleepless nights he endured.

“It’s just me,” he replied quietly. “Only me.”

I bit down on my lower lip, contemplating his words. There was a hint of loneliness in his voice that tugged at my heart. I longed to reach out, to pull him close and reassure him that he didn’t have to face the world alone—he had me. I wrestled with my thoughts before finally speaking up.

“I feel like I know nothing about you,” I said, my voice gentle as I probed for more.

“Given that I am your Headmaster, I’d prefer it to remain that way,” he replied, his tone lacking the teasing edge he usually employed against the boys.

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