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Chapter 239
~Valerie’s POV~
Right after Xander left, I let out a long breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding.
It had been a lot—his words, his honesty, his teasing—but more than anything, it was comforting.
A brief pause in the chaos that had beco my life. No pressure or guilt. Just... presence.
With a slight shake of my head, I turned my focus back to the real world and made my way to the library.
I needed to co up with a few ideas for the group project—anything to keep my mind occupied.
Sothing productive, sothing that didn’t involve soul bonds, emotional manipulation, or complicated kisses.
I flipped through reference texts, scribbled half-baked formulas and diagrams in my notebook, and tried not to replay every word Xander said in my head.
The ti slipped by quickly, the bell rang, and I closed my books with a sigh.
I had a whole free period before my next class. I could’ve done a hundred things with it—eaten, relaxed, maybe gone outside for fresh air—but instead, I was dragging my feet toward the chemistry lab for cleanup duty. Voluntary punishnt with a side of humiliation.
Because the gods clearly had a sense of humour.
When I entered the lab, my stomach dropped a little.
Beakers, droppers, open test tubes, so still crusted with dried-up residue—most of the students had just packed up and walked out without doing a single thing.
Our Chemistry Professor, Professor Andrew, was already waiting, arms crossed, expression tight.
His eyes found like he’d been tracking the second I stepped in, with a look that showed disappointnt.
"My apologies, sir," I said before he could speak. "I’m getting to it."
I didn’t want to give him any more reason to look at like I was trouble.
He didn’t say much. He just picked up his bag, gave a long, tired glance, and as he reached the door, paused.
"Miss Nightshade," he said, half-turning. "You are an honour student. You shouldn’t let petty things distract you."
I was going to say thank you and all that when he continued before I got the chance to.
"And don’t think being an Alpha Heir’s mate gives you a shield from consequences. Know your priorities in this school... and stay out of trouble."
One word...
The fuck!
Okay, that was two, but... the fuck! I’m the troublemaker? Aish...
Did I look like the academy’s number-one chaos agent? Seriously?
Still, I held my expression steady, turned back toward the ss of glassware, and started cleaning when he walked out.
Better to burn through the anger with elbow grease than with words.
With every beaker I scrubbed, I shoved the professor’s words deeper down, burying them under all the other condescending remarks, whispers behind backs, and sideways glances I’d picked up since arriving at PSA.
I wasn’t a regional heir, people thought. I wasn’t born into one of the packs everyone bowed to, and I wasn’t anyone’s precious choice for a Luna.
Not yet, anyway.
I wondered if that would still be the look I’d be given when they found out who I was.
Maybe they’d all change their tune, but that was a storm for another day.
Rather than let it get to , I focused on my work.
By the ti I finished cleaning and scrubbing everything spotless, nearly two hours had gone by.
The lab glead like a comrcial for sterile discipline. My fingers ached, my back was sore, and I had the faintest sll of ammonia clinging to my sleeves.
I returned the mop to the janitor’s closet, slipped out of my gloves, and blended into the flow of students heading off to lunch. Perfect crowd cover.
Just as I turned the corner toward the cafeteria, I realized I’d left my damn bag in the lab.
Of course.
I huffed and spun around, retracing my steps.
And thanks to the students scattered about, I had a perfect cover to blend in and out without getting caught up in more of my mates’ drama again.
Imdiately, I took a turn and headed for the laboratory. As I neared the lab again, I heard muffled voices inside and then a sudden crack—sothing breaking.
OH, CO ON!
If soone were trashing the place I had just spent more than an hour cleaning, I would have lost it.
Heaven knew how mad I was at the fact that soone was probably causing more issues for with Professor Andrew.
Without thinking much, I tiptoed to the door, opened it carefully, stepped inside, quiet as a shadow, ready to catch the culprit, and closed the door gently.
I took out my phone, wanting so hard evidence, but I found that the main lap area was empty.
My bag was still sitting in the far corner, untouched. But the voices... the sound grew even louder.
Only that this ti, they weren’t so muffled a sound, but they were actually...
Moans?
Louder moans.
My heart skipped.
My ears were on high alert as my brain worked to place where the sounds were coming from. Throwing caution to the wind, I turned toward the far corner—toward the side office at the left wing, the one Professor Andrew used sotis to review assignnts.
The door was slightly ajar, and behind it... movent.
Bodies.
Two people. Twisting together in a rhythm that was far too intimate to be mistaken. Clothes half-pulled down. A shirt lifted, a leg wrapped around a thigh, lips pressed to skin with hunger.
A student, no doubt.
The girl’s head was thrown back slightly, her mouth parted in a silent gasp. Her skirt was bunched at her waist.
I stayed still, breath caught in my chest. I couldn’t see their faces. They were turned away from , shrouded in the dim light filtering through the blinds.
Then the guy’s head dipped lower. His lips trailed from the girl’s neck to her collarbone... then lower... down the curve of her cleavage, where he pulled her bra aside with his fingers and kissed the swell of her breast.
She moaned softly, desperate for more.
Then she opened her legs further for him.
As if on cue, he dropped to his knees between them.
My hands clenched involuntarily.
I should leave. I should definitely leave, I told myself, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.
When his mouth reached her core, between her legs, she gasped sharply, her fingers diving into his hair and pulling as he began to lick her slowly.
Her hips shifted. A soft cry escaped her lips as she threw her head back completely in utter ecstasy and...
And that’s when I saw her face.
Isla.
Shock sliced through like broken glass.
The scene from last night—the forest, the shadows, the whispered moans—all of it ca rushing back like a wave breaking over .
She was hiding sothing—hiding him.
And just as I took that in, the guy rose back to his feet, kissing her neck again as he reached for his zipper.
Isla’s hand slid into his pants, her head tilted just slightly—just enough for the light to catch his face.
When I saw him clearly, I nearly staggered.
Neil.
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