The Hidden Princess At All-Boys Alpha Academy

A grumbling, groaning little half-sigh breaks from Daphne's lips as she stirs from her sleep. Because no, she does...not want to be awake right now.

Please, she begs her wolf, who is shaking out her fur, turning towards the door with interest. You're imagining it - you always are. It's not real - he's not here, he's not ever coming here again. Just...let's go back to sleep. It's better when we're not conscious.

But the little rap comes again and Daphne stills, realizing that...she didn't imagine it. That there is a knock at the door.

It's real, her wolf whispers, awed and a little afraid.

Daphne sniffs the air because...it's her boss, or one of her co-workers. Not... not...

But the scent on the air. She's not imagining that, is she? She can't. The hundred times she's tried to conjure it in her mind recently she's failed.

But there it is now in the air, undeniable.

"Daphne, please."

A squeaky little sob breaks from her as Daphne sits up and wraps her arms around her knees, staring at the door. Her shoulders start to tremble as she wars with herself, her gentle copper wolf whining and urging her forward, wanting desperately for her to open the door, to throw herself into his arms.noveldrama

But...she knows better than to do that.

It's done. The whole thing is done, it's over.

And her life will be better if she just... lets it go. A clean break.

"Daphne, please!" he says, knocking hard on the door twice with his fist. His voice breaks on her name this time. "...please."

Daphne looks down and to her right, to the little grey shadow cat curled against her pillow, looking up at her with big sad eyes. The kitten who hasn't left her side for a moment, who always sleeps curled beneath her chin.

She sighs, knowing it's no good. That no matter what she knows is most logical, and safe, and healthy...that she hasn't let him go. That she won't. Can't.

"It's open,” she whispers, knowing he'll hear her, as she reaches out to stroke a hand over the cat's silky half-real fur.

Half real, like all his love for her could ever be. At least now, tied up as he is in a mating bond with another woman.

There's silence and then the door's handle clicks and it swings open.

Jesse stands there in the doorway, leaning against the frame, silhouetted in darkness. He sighs. "Why are you sleeping with your door unlocked, Daphne?"

She just shrugs, her eyes on the cat.

It wasn't something she'd planned. It just...doesn't seem to matter anymore keeping everything in order, the way she always liked to. Following the rules, keeping life ship-shape, making sure everything was as it should be...

Doing that is just...stupid now.

"Daphne," he says again.

She doesn't look up.

Daphne hears it when Jesse slowly crosses the room. She presses her eyes shut at the sound of his boots, his weight, real and substantial, against her floor. Not a dream, not a dream - not like the thousands of dreams she had of him coming back.

This time real. And so...so much worse for it.

"Daph," he whispers, and she hears the soft shush of him kneeling down in front of her, feels the soft press of his palm against her cheek. A barely audible whine breaks from her throat and she leans into that hand, just slightly. "Daph, sweetheart, are you all right?"

She opens her eyes at that, staring into his pretty brown ones, just inches from her face. And her heart breaks again, and her face crumples, and she starts to

cry.

"Oh, heavens, Daphne," Jesse murmurs, immediately climbing onto the bed with her and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her in tight to his chest, tucking her head in beneath his chin. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so fucking sorry."

She continues to cry big heaving sobs, her wolf howling with joy at the sudden surprise closeness of him again - when she never expected it, never hoped for it. But then – the agony of knowing that this is a goodbye - that she can't keep him - God, but it just makes her cry harder. And she hates herself for it.

Jesse holds Daphne for a long time, letting her cry herself out, stroking his hand long and slow up and down her back. He shushes her, and hums to her, and only once fails to resist the temptation to duck his head close and take a long, slow sniff of her scent. Because... he knows it's not fair. That his wolf is thrilled, and joy pulses through him to have her close again, and that it's... it's just not even. It's not fair.