The Hidden Princess At All-Boys Alpha Academy novel Chapter 666

I call the little drone back to me with the handheld base, grinning as it lands in my hand like a bird and reattaching it to my belt. “Thank you!” I murmur to it. “I’m asking for one of you for my birthday.”

It really was incredibly useful to be able to send the little drone out ahead of me to scope – it’s small and quiet enough to go mostly unnoticed and it allowed me to see a whole pack of what I assume were Wright’s soldiers running straight for my base, probably intent on overwhelming Blythe and I from the start.

But, since I knew their path and where they were heading, I just headed slightly west and stayed out of their way, keeping an eye on them with the little drone and continuing my trek north while they headed towards my empty camp.

I take a deep breath and start up the slight hill towards Jackson’s camp, doing nothing to hide the sounds of my approach or otherwise disguise myself. Instead, I pull a little white napkin out of my pocket – one I stole from our breakfast tray this morning – and start waving it over my head.

I see the flurry of activity that breaks out in Jackson’s camp as soon as I’m spotted and can’t keep the little smirk from my mouth as I approach.

“Halt!” comes a voice from above, and I turn my gaze on a couple of Cadets peering over the edge of a hill at me. “Stay there!”

“I’m not going to shoot!” I call out, still waving the little flag. It’s a lie, but…well. If they fall for it, that’s their problem.

“Just stay there!”

I do as I’m told, dropping my arm and waiting, grateful that they didn’t shoot me on sight.

But if I know my mate, they’re under distinct orders not to.

Jackson appears a moment later, his huge form cresting the hill and standing on top of it, glaring down at me like he’s already worried that what I’m going to say and do next is going to ruin all of his plans.

Which it is.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he calls.

“I come bearing gifts!” I say, holding out the gigantic assault rifle.

Jackson’s eyebrows go up, liking that one. “Where’s Blythe?”

“He died,” I say, heaving a big dramatic sigh and twisting my lips like I’m sorry about it.

Jackson sighs again but orders his troops not to shoot and waves me forward.