A Mate To Three Alpha Heirs
Chapter 61: A Call from Lennon

Chapter 61: A Call from Lennon

{Elira}

~**^**~

Water ran for a few more seconds, then stopped. Their laughter drifted away with the squeak of the restroom door as it closed behind them.

Silence returned.

My breath hitched, then broke apart again.

I leaned my forehead against the stall door, fresh tears spilling. My throat felt raw, my chest heavy and aching.

Even if the hall was now empty, even if no one could see, the weight of their words settled deep inside me, feeding every doubt I had.

Hidden there, behind the cold metal door, I let myself cry until there was nothing left in me except the hollow echo of what I couldn’t become.

---

I didn’t know how long I sat there, curled up in that stall, but my eyes burned and my chest ached from crying too hard for too long.

I hadn’t even realized my phone had buzzed until it lit up against the floor beside my feet.

Lennon’s name glowed on the screen.

My heart lurched.

I stared at the call, frozen. Then, without thinking, I pressed the side button and silenced it.

I couldn’t let him hear my voice, not like this. Not when I sounded shattered.

I dropped my forehead against the stall door again, trying to calm the storm in my chest, but the phone buzzed a second time.

It was another call from Lennon.

My fingers trembled as I picked it up. This time, I answered. I pressed the phone gently against my ear but said nothing.

His voice came softly, yet with a deep concern. "Elira..."

Just hearing him say my name made my throat tighten.

"I can feel it," he said quietly. "You’re hurting. What happened?"

I tried, I really did. But something broke inside me.

A sob slipped past my lips before I could stop it. I covered my mouth again, trying to stifle the sound, but it was already too late.

Lennon didn’t flinch. His voice remained calm, steady, and warm. "It’s alright. You don’t have to speak yet. I’m here."

I sniffled hard, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

"I—I couldn’t do it," I whispered. "Nothing happened. They laughed at me. And everyone saw."

There was a pause. A small silence that felt like it held him on the other side of the line, just... listening.

Then gently, he asked, "Where are you?"

"The... the restroom," I muttered, ashamed. "Female restroom. First floor. Left wing."

Another pause followed. Then his voice again, warm and low like a safe place.

"Okay. Wipe your tears for me, yeah? Just meet me outside the building. I’m waiting."

I closed my eyes. My body still shook, but something about his voice wrapped around my ribs and steadied the cracks.

"Don’t let anyone see a beautiful, sweet girl like you in tears," he added gently. "They don’t deserve to see you break."

I let out a small, shaky breath. Maybe it could’ve been a smile, if not for the ache still pressing down on my chest.

"I’m coming," I whispered.

"I’ll be right here," he said.

The call ended. I stayed still for a few seconds longer. Then I finally unlocked the stall door and stepped out.

The restroom was empty again, quiet except for the humming lights overhead. I placed my phone and books on the sink counter and turned on the faucet.

The water felt cold, sharp against my skin — like a reminder to breathe again.

I splashed my face carefully, rinsing the tears from my cheeks and the puffiness from under my eyes.

When I looked up, my reflection met me with red eyes and a shaky expression. I reached for a tissue and patted my face dry.

It didn’t do much, but it would have to do.

I threw the tissue into the bin, grabbed my phone and books, and turned to the door.

I stood there for a moment, unsure. But then I remembered Lennon’s voice. "Just meet me outside."

And suddenly, I wasn’t scared anymore of bumping into any of the students.

I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, keeping my head low but my steps steady.

---

I saw Lennon the moment I stepped out into the quiet courtyard behind the lecture building.

He stood leaning against one of the marble pillars near the flowered path, his phone still in one hand, his brows drawn together with deep concern.

But the second his eyes found me, he pushed off the wall and strode toward me.

"Elira," he said softly, eyes scanning me like he was searching for any visible damage. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head.

His shoulders stiffened, and his hand reached out, hovering near my arm before finally settling gently on it.

"Tell me what happened in your Power Channelling class," he said. His voice wasn’t demanding—it was firm, steady, but there was something else behind it, too—a silent urgency.

I looked down at my fingers clutched around my books. My throat tightened again, but I forced the words out.

"Everyone was trying to bring out their abilities. The professor helped a few of us. There was one student who... who finally managed to produce a flame, even if it was small."

I paused, breathing out shakily. "Then it got to my turn... and nothing happened." My voice cracked. "I tried. I really tried."

The memories came flooding back, too raw and recent. "They laughed at me after class, mocked me like I didn’t even belong here."

My eyes burned again. I bit down hard on my lip to keep the tears from returning, but one still slipped out. And then another.

"I just... I felt like I was nothing," I whispered.

Lennon didn’t say anything at first. He gently pulled my books from my arms then, with his free hand, he reached out and pulled me into a hug.

I hadn’t expected it. But the moment my face met the soft fabric of his shirt, I let out a sharp sob against his chest.

"They’re proud and mean," Lennon muttered, his voice now low with restrained fury. "Those students, they act like they’re better than everyone else, but most of them wouldn’t last a second in a real war zone. They don’t even know what it means to have real strength—and yet they laugh at you."