The Hidden Princess At All-Boys Alpha Academy novel Chapter 623

Daphne loosens a long breath when her feet are again on wide, steady ground, but Jesse keeps his hands on her waist holding her steady. A few moments later, she opens her eyes and lets out a long breath.

“Still hate me?” he asks, smirking.

“Yes,” she replies, narrowing her eyes.

“How about now?” Jesse uses his hands on Daphne’s waist to turn her around towards the incredible view spreading out before them – the incredible ends of the sunset still lingering in the sky, turning the horizon purple and blue with streaks of pink, stars just starting to peek out in the night. Daphne gasps a little, walking forward to the balustrade before her, spreading her hands out on the stone and peering into the distance.

“Wow,” Daphne says, her voice soft with awe. “Why – why can’t we see this in the castle? Why aren’t there any windows that looked this way?”

“Selfish king, apparently,” Jesse says, coming to stand next to her and leaning against the balustrade himself. “Only wanted his balcony to take in this view. Kind of a dick move, if you ask me.”

Daphne looks up at Jesse and then at the wide glass doors behind them. “Is that where we are? What used to be the King’s suite?”

“Still kind of is,” Jesse says with a shrug, following her gaze. “Uncle Dom and Aunt Ella use this room when they come to the Academy overnight.”

“Oh, so we’re trespassing,” Daphne says, eyebrows raising as she turns her face back to him.

“Nah, I’m royalty too,” Jesse says, giving her a wink and nodding over to a set of cushioned chairs at the corner of the balcony, a tiny table set between them.

“Royalty adjacent,” Daphne says, deliberately casual, needling him.

Jesse, quite satisfyingly, gives her a bit of a glare as he sits down, pulling his backpack off. “If you’re mean to me, no whiskey for you.”

Daphne watches as he does, her eyes drifting over the long length of his neck, the drift of his tawny lashes over his cheeks, the way his hair curls, just slightly, at the ends.

And as she watches, her stomach tightening, her wolf dodges from paw to paw in her soul, sniffing anxiously. But still, even when she doesn’t find what she wants, the wolf sits back on her haunches and raises her snout to the air. I think it’s him, she says, desperately confused. It has to be – who else could it be? He smells so nice.

But there’s no bond? Daphne murmurs to her wolf, stroking an anxious hand over her fur.

I will find it, the wolf says, jumping again to her feet and turning in an eager circle. It has to be here – it has to be.