Claimed By The King(s) Of Kings

I am going to shove this spoon through your eye, Aina thought fiercely, her blood boiling beneath her skin.

Every instinct screamed at her to throw the food in his face, but the cold reality of her situation tethered her down. She was an imposter. She was pretending to be Travis. If she started a war on night one, her cover would blow, her father would find her, and her life would be over.

Swallowing her exploding pride, Aina picked up the spoon with trembling fingers. Under the silent, suffocating gaze of hundreds of students, she scooped up a small bite of the mashed potatoes and put it in her mouth. Surprisingly, it was rich, buttery, and delicious.

She took a breath, letting out a subtle sigh of relief, and reached down to take a second full bite.

PUI.

A wet splash hit the center of her plate.

Aina froze.

Vance leaned back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, having just spit a thick glob of saliva directly into the middle of her food. "There," Vance smirked, his eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. "Just adding a little local flavor for you, country bumpkin. Now finish the plate."

Something inside Aina’s brain cleanly snapped. The fear, the trembling, the desperate need to hide, it all burned away in a flash of raw, unfiltered rage. Forget the disguise. Forget the academy. Forget the mate bond.

In one fluid, blinding motion, Aina grabbed the heavy porcelain plate with both hands and slammed it straight into Prince Vance’s face.

CRASH!

The heavy dish shattered on impact. Warm, buttery mashed potatoes exploded across Vance’s nose, cheeks, and pristine tailored uniform.

The impact knocked him backward off the bench, sending him crashing to the stone floor in a heap of porcelain shards and yellow slop.

A collective, horrified gasp echoed through the massive hall like a gust of wind.

The heavy weight on Aina’s shoulders instantly vanished as Malric let go, his eyes widening in pure shock as he scrambled down to check on his brother. "Vance!"

Aina didn’t wait to die. She spun on her heel, her heart hammering against her ribs, and bolted toward the aisle.

Time to leave. Time to leave RIGHT NOW.

"HEY!"

Malric’s voice didn’t just carry, it roared through the hall like a thunderclap, vibrating the iron chandeliers hanging from the ceiling.

A wave of oppressive, suffocating Alpha command crashed over the room, freezing every student in their tracks.

Aina stumbled, the sheer weight of his voice making her knees buckle, but she forced herself to turn around, backing up against the dense wall of frozen students.

Malric stepped over his brother, his obsidian eyes glowing a dangerous, feral crimson.

Mash potatoes were dripping off Vance’s jaw behind him, but Malric looked like an absolute demon emerging from hell. "How dare you..." Malric hissed, his voice shaking the stone floor beneath their feet. "How dare you lay a hand on a prince of the High Bloodlines?!"

Prince?! These guys are the princes. Aina you dumb bitch what have you done.

Aina swallowed hard, her throat dry as sand. She was cornered, surrounded by a hundred elite wolves, facing down the most powerful Alpha in the school. She wanted to run like she always did back at home, to keep her head down and obey but to what end if you bow once to bullies you will always bow. That was what Aina learned from her years of surviving the whitelock pack.

"Oh, cry me a river!" Aina snapped back, throwing her hands in the air, her fake low voice dropping into a sharp, cutting edge. "What, is your precious little royal ego bleeding because a bowl of potatoes touched your brother’s face?!"

The hall went so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Students looked at each other in sheer terror, some literally backing away from Aina as if she were a walking bomb.

"You are a dead man," Malric growled, taking a slow, menacing step toward her, his chest heaving.

"Do you have any idea who I am?! I am Prince Malric! I rule this academy! My family owns the very ground you are standing on! You are nothing but a bug beneath my boot, a pathetic, weak little rat in a hand-me-down suit!"

"Prince this, Prince that!" Aina shouted right back, stepping forward instead of backward, her eyes flashing with pure defiance.

"Is that all you have?! Throwing around your daddy’s title because you don’t have a single drop of actual character of your own?! You act like you’re some untouchable god, but you’re just a spoiled, insecure bully throwing a temper tantrum in a dining hall!"

"Shut your mouth!" Malric roared, lunging forward, his large hand reaching out to grab her throat. "I will tear you apart piece by—"

Aina didn’t retreat. She didn’t flinch.

As he closed the distance, she pushed up onto her tippy-toes, reeled her arm back, and delivered a blinding, full-force open-palmed SLAP across his face.

PATH!

The sharp, cracking sound echoed through the high stone arches like a gunshot.

Malric’s head snapped to the side. The entire room stopped breathing. Nobody moved. Nobody blinked.

Time itself seemed to freeze into a solid block of ice.

Stunned, Malric slowly turned his head back toward her, his crimson eyes wide with utter, unfathomable rage, a red handprint rapidly blooming across his pale cheek. He bared his fangs, a low, murderous snarl vibrating in his chest as he prepared to lung—

PATH!

Aina brought her other hand around and slapped him right back across the exact same cheek.

Malric stumbled back half a step, his jaw slack in absolute, paralyzing shock.

Aina planted her feet back onto the ground glaring straight into his glowing red eyes, her face inches from his.

"Listen to me, you arrogant little boy," Aina hissed, her voice ringing out crisp, deadly, and crystal clear into the dead silence of the hall. "Your power? Your title? Your high bloodline? It means nothing to me. You are no different from me in my hand-me down suit, you are not a god. You’re just a sad, pathetic boy who thinks he’s a king."

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