My Alphas' Dark Desires-Chapter 156: Disappointment

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Chapter 157

~Valerie’s POV~

Dristan flinched at that. Good.

Because right now, I couldn’t handle the confusion—his warmth one moment, and his cold indifference the next. Not when I had the entire school whispering behind my back.

Dristan stepped closer anyway, his voice lower. "I didn’t post anything. You know I wouldn’t."

"I don’t know anything right now, Dristan," I whispered, staring him down. "Except that Silver is here. You weren’t, none of you are."

That hurt him. I saw it as his eyes darkened.. Dristan may have wanted to say something but I did not give him a chance further.

"I got to go."

"I’m here now."

His words were too lae as Solstice stepped in then, hand lightly touching my elbow. "Come on, Val. You’ve got bigger problems than post-stakeout guilt."

Dristan scowled. "She needs to hear me out."

"Later," I said, already turning away. "Right now, I have to hear what Principal Whitmore has to say. And if I’m getting kicked out over this..."

I let the sentence die and Solstice walked with me, not looking back once but I could feel Dristan’s eyes on my back.

He was probably watching, burning even and regretting maybe seeing as I was caught on camera with him but it was too late for maybe.

Because the war had already started. And I was still standing in the centre of the battlefield and nobody, not even one of my goddamn mates came out to claim me and make this scandal go away.

I did not plan to be claiming them like a desperate fool, clawing at lost straws to save herself and look more pathetic. No.

All I wanted was peace and my revenge.

Quickly, I took out my phone when another message popped up. Solstice wanted to look but I didn’t give her any chance and instead pulled away, telling ehr I’d meet her in class.

She fumbled, grumbled obviously but I had that space.

As soon as I got to the stairs leading down to her office, I halted and read it.

It was a message from Erik.

Erik: Hey Val, I will soon get access to the truth about the simulation and sorry about the scandal. I know you didn’t do it. It could be a video or photoshopped.

My lips pulled back in a beautiful smile.

Me: I did.

Erik: What?

Erik: Umm, okay... It’s not bad.

Me: Smiles.

Me: I’m cool. I don’t regret anything. Thanks.

Erik: Happy to help.

I was going to end the message there, tuck the phone in my pocket and peacefully head to see Principal Whitmore when a thought crossed my mind.

Erik can help!

Me: If you really want to help, then... dig into this post... who sent the videos viral?

Erik: Oh, that will be easy. I will...

For a minute, I saw Erik typing on the chat, but then he stopped, and there was no more news from him.

I shrugged, trying not to overthink it, and walked down anyway, ignoring the few stares I got.

I reached the final step leading to the Principal’s wing, my fingers still tight around my phone. Erik hadn’t replied after promising to look into the leak.

Some of me worried, but I tucked that fear away for later. Right now, I had more pressing problems—like getting my name dragged through the dirt on every damn gossip site at PSA.

I stepped into the hallway just outside the office and was immediately met with the frigid stare of Ms. Heart—Principal Whitmore’s ever-faithful, ever-judging secretary.

She sat behind her desk like a woman sculpted from disapproval, glasses perched low on her nose, lips pressed into a disapproving line as she glanced up at me from over a neatly stacked file.

"Ms. Nightshade," she said dryly, not bothering to hide the disdain in her tone.

"Ms. Heart," I returned with a tight, fake smile.

Her mouth twitched like she wanted to say more, like a passive-aggressive slap on the wrist was already forming on her tongue.

But she didn’t get the chance.

"Send her in," came Principal Whitmore’s sharp, commanding voice from within.

Ms. Heart nodded stiffly, motioning toward the double doors. "You may enter."

"Thanks," I muttered, pushing through.

The door clicked shut behind me, and the weight of the school’s judgment pressed down like fog.

Principal Whitmore sat behind her heavy mahogany desk, her sleeves rolled to the elbows, fingers clasped in front of her like she was already disappointed in whatever I was about to say.

Her hair was drawn back into a high, severe bun, and her eyes pinned me before I could even greet her.

I wore something simple today—a long-sleeved white shirt untucked from my pleated navy skirt, a loosely knotted tie at my collar, and dark knee-high boots that clicked faintly against the polished floor.

I didn’t bother dressing like the perfect student today. My head was already messy.

I smiled weakly, dipped my head slightly in respect, and stepped forward. "You called for me?"

Her expression didn’t shift. "I did." She folded her hands tighter. "Tell me, Ms. Nightshade. Why exactly did you skip school yesterday? Was it because you were ill?" Her tone was clipped, but something underneath it simmered.

I kept my voice calm. "I wasn’t feeling well."

"Oh?" Her brow rose. "Not well enough to attend class, but well enough to entertain a male visitor in your room?"

My mouth went dry. As annoying as it was, she was right to a certain degree.

She leaned back, fingers steepled beneath her chin. "So tell me. Which part of this trending story is true? The illness... or the dick?"

My eyes widened at her bluntness. I blinked, my heart thudding against my ribs.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," she said smoothly, almost too coldly. "Fakes being sick for a dick—the rhymes are..."

She did not finish her sentence but instead returned her cold stare to me.

"The entire campus is buzzing about how you called in sick only to spend your day kissing the Alpha heir in your dorm. In the same breath, a second video of you with another one of them in his car surfaces. The phrasing making the rounds online is that you skipped class to ’get dicked down.’ Care to correct that narrative?"