Chapter 10: Perfect on Paper
1402 Words
Callum
Recently, the student council office had turned into chaos. Again.
Stacks of papers lined my desk, spilling over like an avalanche of disorganized responsibility, and I’d barely touched my tea before it went cold.
I absently opened the mini fridge under my desk, plopping some ice cubes in the mug.
The student council lounge, my usual sanctuary, was anything but quiet. The sound of Drake’s boots thudding against the floor as he paced, talking on and on about his training.
That red-headed, muscle brood only cared about one thing, and he was filling my silence with it.
That, and Toby’s typing, plus the faint hum of arguing voices outside, made my temple throb.
Homecoming preparations had always been a logistical nightmare, but this year? It was a disaster. All thanks to Princess Bianca.
I quickly bit my mind’s tongue.
Happy thoughts.
Toby stood up quickly and stood across from me with a clipboard clutched like a weapon, his face pinched with restraint. “Okay, so it seems like she wants to change the flower arrangements again. Lilies are apparently too ‘funeral chic.’ And she wants the caterers to switch to imported macarons. By Friday.”
I rubbed a hand down my face. “Imported. By Friday.”
He nodded. “Also, she’s demanding a swan ice sculpture.”
I eyed the red mark on his cheek. His hand lifted to it, knowing what I was silently asking.
“Oh, I thought the swan was a joke. It wasn’t.”
I leaned back in my chair and exhaled through my nose. The leather creaked under me. “She’s derailing everything.”
Toby’s silence said more than words ever could.
The female alpha I’d always heard about—graceful, poised, restrained—was a vision of perfect, quiet strength. Sometimes described as aloof, sure. But never… extravagant. Never this needy.
These tantrums, the entitlement, the passive-aggressive remarks she disguised as charm, it was grating. Worse, it was interfering.
My work mattered. The student council kept the school from collapsing into chaos, a show of my leadership skills for when I am ready to take over the pack, and I didn’t have time to chase every whim of someone who still thought there was a difference between a swan and a goose ice sculpture.
Toby hesitated, then pulled a second sheet from the clipboard. “I took the liberty of compiling student council complaints. From all departments.”
I scanned the list. Event delays. Budget overages. Time wasted. Friction in team morale.
My jaw clenched.
“She’s supposed to be the ideal match,” I muttered.
Toby tilted his head. “The budget? Oh, Bianca. Right. Was that… sarcasm?”
“I think so,” I sighed. “That’s new.”
The alert on my phone buzzed. Bianca.
Of course.
I tapped the screen and put her on speaker. “Yes?”
“Callum,” she purred, reminding me of my old cat that used to bite me. “I’m calling to inquire, are you wearing black or blue? I mean, your boutonniere must match my dress! I’m thinking pink—”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Bianca, I’m swamped. Homecoming isn’t far—”
“Oh, Callum.” Her voice turned syrupy. “I’ve already made arrangements. People will talk if the heir doesn’t match his mate. We can’t have that, can we?”
“I really—”
“I’m not asking,” she interrupted sweetly, composing herself. “I’m reminding you of your obligations. Besides, it’ll be good for us.”
The call ended.
Toby looked at me with one eyebrow raised. “So… swan sculpture?”
I didn’t laugh. But it was close.
Looks like I would be working overtime for the day.
Later that evening, my core team gathered in the lounge: Toby, Drake, and—unfortunately—Zane.
Drake was already mid-rant. “So, tell me again what happened with the freaky wolfless girl? I heard she’s strong! Like crazy strong! Man, I’m pumped! Did she actually slap Bianca across the field? I heard it echoed.”
I stiffened. The slap. The necklace. The quiet power in her eyes. Liora.
“I’d prefer not to discuss it,” I said.
“Oh ho!” Drake grinned like a wolf who scented blood. “Someone’s embarrassed. Was she that good?”
“She was precise,” I muttered. “Nothing more.”
Drake waggled his eyebrows. “I heard you turned her down as your mate? Any leftover feelings there? Maybe she’ll ask you to the dance. Wouldn’t that make Bianca lose her mind.”
Toby winced. “Please don’t wish that into existence.”
I glanced out the window. “Even if she did, I can’t accept. The pack comes first.”
Drake’s eyebrows narrowed as he leaned back, tossing a grape into his mouth. “Shame. I like her. She’s got fire. Doesn’t pretend to giggle when she wants to stab you. Unlike some people.”
“Enough,” I snapped. “You know nothing to even begin to like her.”
Drake whistled but knew better than to push the point.
I took a deep breath. Part of me... wondered.
She hadn’t asked. She hadn’t begged. She hadn’t looked at me like I was some prize she needed to win. She looked at me like I was a problem.
I wasn’t used to that.
And it bothered me more than I wanted to admit.
Just who was she…?
“Toby,” I said. “Dig into her records. I want her real name. Her full file. Use whatever means necessary.”
Toby frowned. “So, you’re really going to reject her.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t sound sure.”
I didn’t answer.
A loud thump echoed as someone landed outside the window.
I nearly rolled my eyes.
Zane.
He pushed the pane open and climbed in like it was his personal front door. His near white, blond hair swished as he did, that smug, lazy smile spreading his lips thin. “You guys talk too loud. Could hear you all the way from the roof.”
“You have access to a door, you know,” I muttered. Besides, it’s not like he wasn’t just napping up there.
He grinned. “But this is more dramatic.”
Drake pointed at me gleefully. “Guess what? Our fearless alpha here has a mate. The mysterious wolfless herself.”
Zane raised a brow. “Oh, so that rumor was true? Didn’t you reject her or something? I mean you're arranged for our dear princess, right?”
Toby sighed under his breath. “Unfortunately.”
Zane chuckled. “She sounds fun. I like her already.”
I scowled. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven your last ‘courtship.’ You, apparently, like girls who light things on fire for fun.”
He leaned back against the desk, glancing at the scorch marks next to him. “Exactly. Besides, she was the best kisser out of all of them.”
“And yet you still cheated,” Drake smirked, tossing another grape into his mouth. “Made her go ‘crazy.’”
Zane shrugged, “It’s not my fault she couldn’t take a hint.”
“You should,” my head tilted to Zane. “Be finishing your work. The student council isn’t a break room, and we’re swamped more than ever.”
Zane waved me off, “When I have a minute, boss, I’ll get right on that.”
Drake’s chest bounced with a laugh, leaving my brow flat.
Zane was… lazy. For lack of a better word. When he actually applied himself, he was always at the top. But the applying part? That was the problem. He could probably beat Drake in a fair fight if he tried—and that’s saying something, considering he’s half Drake’s size and half of the brawn.
The room fell quiet. I returned to my desk, glancing once more at the council reports. My schedule. My duties.
The castle ball. The dance.
I had a role to play.
Even if I was starting to wonder if the script had been written by the wrong person all along.
“Still,” Zane mumbled as he glanced out the window. “This Loira girl does sound intriguing.”
It was hard to ignore the pit forming in my stomach.
- Writer
