A Queen's Rise From The Flames

Episode 9

Report Due

Darbie

Kaelen’s summons showed up right on schedule. That only made it worse.

A single folded note slid under my dorm door sometime before dawn. With no signature on it, just the words.

Study hall, west archive wing, seventh period. Do not be late.

I read it three times during breakfast. My stomach knotted tighter with every look. Then I shoved it into my bag and went to class like nothing had happened these few days under my feet.

He had given me exactly twenty-four hours down to the minute. Some cold, careful part of him was probably counting it even now.

By seventh period, the west archive wing sat nearly empty. It sat far enough from the main halls that most students never walked out there unless a professor made them.

Kaelen was already at the last table. Back

straight. Uniform pressed so sharp the creases looked like they hurt. One closed folder sat square in front of him, neat as a charge waiting to be read.

“Sit,” he said without looking up.

I sat.

He stayed quiet. The silence stretched between us. He let me feel the full weight of being watched by someone who sees every detail and lets none of them slide. When he finally raised his eyes, those ice-blue ones held no warmth and no interest—only flat, measured expectation.

“Your report,” he said.

I made sure I practised the words over and over; I turned them over in my head, picking out how much truth I could give without wrecking Jax’s whole setup. My voice stayed calm as ever. My Hands stayed folded in my lap so they wouldn’t give me away.

“The tunnels under the transit system,” I said. “That’s where he runs it. Fighting matches mostly. High-stakes bets from senior students and a few outsiders I didn’t know. It happens off and on, no set schedule, so it’s hard to guess the next one.”

Kaelen’s face stayed the same, but a stillness settled on him. The kind of focus a hunter gives something it thinks might still be breathing.

“That’s it,” he said. Not a question.

“That’s what I saw.”

“You spent a whole evening with him. Right in the middle of his operation. And this is all you noticed.”

I held his gaze and forced my breathing to steady. “I was trying not to stand out, Alpha Kaelen. Walking around asking about books and contacts would have gotten me thrown out, or worse.”

It wasn’t a full lie. I had been careful. I just left out the VIP box, the names I half-remembered, and the smell of the syndicate people betting at the edge of the ring. I left it all out because handing Kaelen a clear map of Jax’s people felt like writing a death sentence for someone who, irritating as he was, hadn’t hurt me.

Kaelen sat back a little. One gloved hand tapped once on the closed folder. Small and exact. It carried more threat than any raised voice.

“I already know about the fighting ring,” he said. “I’ve known for months. I asked for the setup behind it. The Contacts. Money paths.

Names of the outsiders funding the matches. What you gave me is the kind of overview any third-year hears in the halls.”

Heat rose on the back of my neck. Fear mixed with the irritation of being caught doing exactly what I meant to do. “I told you what I saw.”

“No.” His voice dropped lower. “You told me what you decided was safe for me to hear. There’s a difference, Darbie. Learn it before you try this again.”

I said nothing. No denial would stand under that look, and we both knew it.

“Let me make something plain,” he went on. He folded his hands on the table. Every move was careful and controlled, like a man who had already chosen the ending and was just walking you toward it.

“I don’t care about your loyalties. I don’t care if Jax has you feeling protective of his little setup. I care about results. What I got today was not that. It was a half-truth dressed up to look like work.”

“I gave you information.”

“You gave me nothing a bored first-year couldn’t pick up in the dining hall.” His eyes stayed on mine, steady and hard. “That’s a dangerous game to play with me. Unlike Jax, I don’t find your dodging funny.”

My throat tightened. I thought of the file he still held, the fake records, the treason charge hanging over me like a blade ready to fall. One signature or one call to the Council and he could end it all.

“What do you want from me?” I asked. I hated how thin it sounded.

“The truth.” He said it plainly, like it should have been obvious. “Not pieces. Not the safest version. If you keep handing me half of what you know, I’ll decide the other half is going to someone who offers more, and I’ll act on that.”

“I’m not selling anything to anyone.”

“Then show it with real details, not denials.” He opened his hands and slid the closed folder an inch toward me. He didn’t open it or show what was inside—just a reminder of what he still held.

“You have one week until the Convergence Ceremony. Your fraud case doesn’t vanish because you got through one rough night in the tunnels. Use the time to decide if protecting Jax’s secrets matters more than protecting your own life.”

The words hit exactly where he meant them to. Cold and sharp. They cut through the calm I’d held onto through the whole talk.

“Half-truths,” Kaelen said as he stood. He smoothed his jacket with the same care he did almost everything. “They’ll get you killed faster than saying nothing. Silence I could respect as a plan. This,” he tapped the folder once more, “tells me you think you’re smart enough to handle two Alphas at once without either noticing the gaps.”

He turned to leave, then stopped and looked back. The expression was hard to place. Colder than anger and more dangerous for it.

“I don’t make empty threats,” he said. “The next report you bring will be complete, or it will be the last chance you get.”

He walked out without waiting for an answer. His steps faded down the empty hall with the same steady pace that marked everything about him.

I stayed at the table a while. Pulse racing. The missing folder felt louder than when it sat there. He hadn’t shown me the inside. He didn’t need to. I already knew, and he knew I knew. That shared knowledge was its own kind of hold, tighter than anything Jax had tried in the dorm.

One week until the Convergence Ceremony. One week to figure out how to stay alive between two Alphas, each holding a piece of truth that could finish me, without either of them seeing how much I was keeping from both.

I gathered my things slowly. My hands were free to shake now that no one watched. Then I walked back into the corridor, already bracing for whatever came next that night.