THE LYCAN PRINCE OF WESTSIDE EDEN

Chapter Eleven

Isabella POV

"Okay, that was weird, right?" I said. "Tell me that was weird."

"That was so weird." Sheila grabbed my tray and mine both, hauling us three tables away like the distance itself could fix it. "Also, ten out of ten, do not make eye contact with the nose ring guy again. He gives off serial killer energy."

"Thanks, very comforting."

"I try." She dropped into a seat and immediately stole one of my fries, completely unbothered by the fact that my hands were still shaking a little. "Okay. Since you're clearly spiraling, let me distract you with gossip. Everyone in this town either works for the Kingstons or is scared of them. That's basically the whole social order, in one sentence."

"You said that already."

"Did I? Feels important enough to say twice." She leaned in, lowering her voice like she was handing over classified information. "So, Marv's dad basically runs the town. Old money, old everything, nobody really knows the full story. And Aiden's, like, the heir. Which is a whole thing."

"A whole thing how?"

"Well, for starters, he's basically engaged."

I nearly choked on my water. "He's what?"

"Basically. Not, like, ring-on-the-finger official, but everyone knows it's happening. Some Alpha's daughter from another territory." Sheila said it so casually, so completely unaware of the way my stomach had just dropped straight through the cafeteria floor, that I almost laughed at the absurdity of it. "It's a whole political marriage thing. Very medieval. Very not my business, but very fun to gossip about."

"Why would he need to marry someone from another territory?" I asked, trying to keep my voice light and mostly failing. "What is he, a prince?"

"Ha. Kind of, actually. Not officially. But that's basically the vibe." She shrugged and stole another fry. "Anyway, doesn't matter. You're not into him, right? You've barely even talked to him."

"Right," I said. "Barely."

I didn't know why that word tasted like a lie in my mouth. I'd known Aiden for exactly nine days. I had absolutely no reason to feel the way I suddenly felt ... hollow, and a little sick, and furious at myself for both.

"Good," Sheila said, oblivious. "Because apparently the last girl who got a crush on him ended up transferring schools out of pure embarrassment. Kingston boys are basically off-limits for anyone without a pack membership card."

"Noted," I said. "Loud and clear."

I almost believed I meant it. Right up until Sheila's phone buzzed on the table between us, screen lighting up with a notification, and she glanced down without thinking twice.

"Oh my God, look at this." She turned the phone toward me before I could stop her. "This is from the Kingston family gala last weekend. My cousin got invited because her mom does the catering."

The photo filled the screen. Aiden, in a black suit that fit him like it had been sewn onto his body, standing beside a girl I'd never seen before ... poised, beautiful, dressed like she'd stepped out of a magazine, her hand resting on his arm the exact way mine had never once been allowed to.

Underneath, someone had commented in bold pink letters.

Future Mrs. Kingston, calling it now.

I stared at that photo a beat too long. Long enough that Sheila noticed.

"Bells?" she said slowly. "You've gone pale-and-murder-y again."

I didn't answer.

Because the girl in the photo ... the one everyone in the comments was already calling future Mrs. Kingston ... was staring straight into the camera with an expression I recognized instantly, even though I'd never seen her face before in my life.

She looked like someone w

ho already knew she'd won.