Claimed by the Wrong Alphas
Chapter 30: Hidden watchers...

Chapter 30: Hidden watchers...

Kael

I stood on the stage, arranging materials for the evening’s orientation sessions as each orientation officer came on stage to talk to the new students.

Every few seconds, I found myself checking the door, waiting for a familiar figure that hadn’t appeared yet.

I was worried about Eamon. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, as much as I’d spent the entire morning trying to convince myself I didn’t care.

It didn’t help that Eamon had not shown up for morning orientation classes, and now, almost at the end of the day’s activity, there was still no sign of him. I had a gut feeling something was seriously wrong.

My wolf was restless, pacing, growling in the back of my mind. I was agitated and anxious.

After Slater had rushed out in the morning to chase after the sentinel who had taken Eamon, I had seized the opportunity to search through Slater’s room, hoping to find some clue about what was going on between the Riggs brothers.

I looked through the drawers, checking personal belongings and even examining the trash. But I didn’t find anything useful, and I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking for.

But I had found a jacket with Eamon’s scent on it, and, like a fool, I was slowly morphing into. I spent a few minutes sniffing the coat.

That scent haunted me.

Just like the kiss.

The damn kiss in the pool that had woken me up in the middle of the night, hard and confused and more frustrated than ever. I’d sworn to avoid Eamon for the rest of the week. And concentrate on my real mission at Ravenshore.

But here I was.

Still worried.

Earlier, when I went to the student services office to collect orientation materials, I saw Slater in the hallway looking dejected.

I had tried to strike up a casual conversation, hoping to learn something about Eamon’s whereabouts and what had happened in the morning, but Slater had dismissed me curtly before walking away.

He looked devastated, which only increased my worry about what might be happening to Eamon.

Finally, the orientation hall doors opened, and Eamon walked in, heading immediately toward the back of the hall. Even from a distance, I could see that something was terribly wrong.

The way Eamon’s lips were pressed tightly together, the rigid set of his shoulders, the defeated slump of his posture—everything suggested he’d been crying recently.

The sight stirred something protective within me, but I shook my head, trying to refocus on my official responsibilities. I had more pressing concerns than whatever personal drama was unfolding between the Riggs brothers.

The last orientation officer for the day finally came to the stage and began addressing the students.

"Due to several unforeseen circumstances and situations beyond our control," he announced, "the official induction ceremony for newly admitted students has been moved to tomorrow evening as opposed to the previous 7-day orientation before the induction ceremony. Additionally, for the first time in Ravenshore’s history, all the applicants will be inducted. We have completed all the background checks and decided there will be no final screening."

Murmurs rippled through the hall, and immediately, I perked up. What kind of ’unforeseen circumstances’ would require such drastic changes? We’ve only had three days of orientation, and only two of those days were active.

Shouldn’t they be extending the orientation exercise rather than shortening it? And why were they not conducting a final screening?

The whole situation reminded me of the disturbing discovery I’d made during our short time at the summer camp.

I’d followed the lead given to me a few days ago by the messenger and had made a shocking discovery that needed immediate follow-up.

My wolf had picked up traces of Lupine Euphoria. This powerful compound dramatically increases sexual libido in werewolves, banned by the Alpha King for nearly five years now because of how harmful it could be.

I’d followed the scent trail and discovered what appeared to be a hidden laboratory facility on the campgrounds. The lab’s purpose was unclear, but I could bet it wasn’t part of any legitimate academic program.

The place had been crawling with a lot of security, both as guards and devices, and since I didn’t come prepared to infiltrate it, I had to leave.

Tonight, I was supposed to return and gather more information for the messenger. The mission was risky, but right now, all I could think of was Eamon.

When the orientation exercise finally ended and students began filing out for the evening break, I made a decision that went against every rule of my training and the professional detachment I’d cultivated.

I followed Eamon at a discreet distance as the boy walked dejectedly toward the main staircase.

When he got to the bottom step of the empty staircase landing, he slumped against the wall.

I froze at the corner, instantly positioning myself where I could observe him without being seen.

I watched as he sank onto the steps, buried his face in his hands, and began to cry. At first, I’d hoped it would last for a few minutes, but what I witnessed made something twist painfully in my chest—Eamon was crying with the kind of heart-wrenching sobs that spoke of complete devastation.

The sound echoed down the entire staircase, and I wanted to go to him. To fix everything. But what could I do? What could I say? For the first time in my life, I felt so helpless.

My training had taught me to observe, to analyse, always to remain objective—but nothing had prepared me for the overwhelming urge to comfort a crying boy.

I stood there for a moment, watching him, then, without fully understanding what I was doing, I found myself hurrying towards the school snack shop.

The vendor looked up with interest when he saw me.

"Excuse me," I said quietly, lowering my voice so the student littered around won’t hear me. "What would you recommend for someone who’s... upset?"

"Upset?" the man stared at me blankly.

I mean—drink or food or maybe—stuffed toys for someone who’s been crying a lot? Something that might help them feel better?"

The vendor’s face broke into a knowing grin. He nudged my shoulders, giving me a wink.

"Ah, girl trouble. Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered. I know just the thing."

"Not, it’s not—"I began, but the man had already turned away and disappeared into the back of the shop.

He returned a minute later with a small bag containing what looked like chocolate, herbal tea and some homemade cookies.

"My wife made the homemade cookies. I’m sure she’ll love them. I also threw in an extra mango bubble tea, sweetened honey buns and dark chocolate..." he leaned in whispering. "She’ll love it."

"It’s actually for a boy," I said, trying not to glare at the man.

"I know, I know!" he said with an amusing smile. "Don’t worry, I won’t say a word."

Deciding not to correct the assumption again, I paid quickly and rushed back toward the stairwell, hoping Eamon was still there and that I could find some way to offer comfort without revealing how closely I’d been watching.

But when I reached the staircase again, I stopped short.

Marcus Webb, the student president, had cornered Eamon in the shadows between floors. He stood way too close to Eamon, one hand braced on the wall beside his head.

"It must suck to be you," Marcus said with a mocking laugh. "Your father denied ever knowing you, and your stepbrother sold you out completely. You’re all alone now. Headmistress Vale said your father is ashamed of admitting you’re his son."

My eyes narrowed at the information.

Eamon tried to push past him, but Marcus grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Where do you think you’re going?" As he spoke, he ran his hand through his hair, and Eamon flinched, trying to break free from his grip.

"Hey," Marcus placed both hands on his arm, turning him towards him. "Don’t be like that. I’m only trying to help you. This could be your last chance to make some real friends at this academy."

He backed Eamon to the wall, while Eamon stood there quietly, making no attempt to put up a fight, even when Marcus’s hand moved to his face, fingers trailing along his jawline.

"Rumours spread fast in Ravenshore. If people know the real truth, they’ll come for you, but if everyone knows you belong to me, they’ll let you go. I can protect you, Eamon... I swear."

His hands moved past Eamon’s face, down to his neck, stopping to inhale like a sex maniac.

"You’re so pretty when you cry," he murmured. "I bet I could make you feel much better if you’d just—"

That did it for me. I started towards them, at a stealthy pace, taking the stairs two at a time, when the stairwell door slammed open with enough force to rattle the walls.