The Hidden Princess At All-Boys Alpha Academy novel Chapter 469

“It’s not like that,” I say, dropping my head a little, wondering at myself. “My mates – Jackson, especially – are…a benefit to me. Not a weakness. I don’t need to run from them to do my job; and if I need to be separated from them for an assignment…” I shrug. “I’ll make them understand.”

“All right,” she says, her hands going up to protest her innocence. “Your mates, your business. But, Princess, you have made one mistake.”

“What?” I ask, sitting up straight, suddenly worried.

Faiza’s smile grows as she winks at me and glances up at the clock on the wall. “You forgot to watch the time. And dad hates it when people are late.”

I gasp, leaping to my feet. “Faiza!” I breathe, dashing immediately for the door. “How could you do that to me!?”

“Your schedule is not my problem Cadet!” she calls after me, laughing as I haul the door open and dash out of it. “See you back here the day after tomorrow, and then we’ll really get started!”

I dash down the hall, moving as fast as I can, cursing under my breath even though I know that it’s no good – I’m already five minutes late, which to Neumann might as well be a year. Still, I push myself faster, flying around corners until my feet are pounding down the marble hall to the chemistry room door.

I skid to a stop outside of it and then push it open, panting as I step inside.

Neumann turns towards me with a characteristic frown. Then, when he sees me panting and breathless, he just rolls his eyes and points to the desks in front of him. “Inside, Clark. And stop panting like an animal, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Yes, sir,” I murmur, stepping inside and doing my best to control my breathing, wiping sweat from my brow as I slip onto a stool behind a lab table. Despite my exhaustion, shock fills me as I look over at the other desks in the room and see that there are only two other students here.

And that neither of them are my friends from the sniper unit.

I perk up again with interest at this, again looking over at the two other boys in the class as I realize that they, too, likely met their individual tutors this morning. God, I wonder who they are, what their styles consist of.

No matter what, though, I’m sure they’re not nearly as unique or interesting as Faiza.

“Have no doubts,” Neumann says on a sigh, as if he’s bored, “that this semester will be as grueling as the last, even if there are no cuts at the end. No, the only way out now is death or graduation. Please,” he says, looking around at us with a raised eyebrow. “Do strive for the latter. Student death takes a great deal more paperwork than signing a line on your diploma.”

He turns away then, striding for the board to begin, and a smile tugs at my lips even as I open the notebook and click the pen, starting to take my notes.

Because grueling as I’m sure it will be, I honestly can’t wait to get started.