Tangled Truths
1167 Words
The danger wasn’t just in the looming threat of exposure or the enemies Alpha Academy was breeding in the shadows. The real danger was how Ari felt when Ronan looked at her like she mattered. Like he saw her.
That was the kind of danger she hadn’t planned for.
The kind she wasn’t sure she could survive.
The week following the evaluations brought a strange sense of quiet over campus. Not in the literal sense—training sessions still filled the air with shouts, magic pulsed through the wards, and new recruits continued to be broken down and rebuilt. But beneath it all was a current of tension, a pause before the storm.
Ari kept her head down, but it was impossible to ignore the whispers. Someone had spotted an unregistered shift in the woods during the last trial. The professors brushed it off as a fluke. The students weren’t convinced.
Neither was Ari.
She knew how easy it was to hide among them. She was proof of it.
Meanwhile, Luca had taken it upon himself to be the resident flirt of Alpha Academy. Ari watched in disbelief as he continued his bizarre courtship of Celeste Blackwood. It should’ve been a disaster. Celeste, with her icy perfection and calculating eyes, was everything Luca claimed to despise.
And yet—he kept showing up with stupid jokes and stolen flowers. And somehow, it worked.
They were sitting under one of the academy’s ancient oaks when Ari found them next.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” she warned him.
Celeste arched a brow. “And why is that?”
“Because my best friend is an i***t,” Ari said flatly. “And your brother is going to murder him if he finds out you’re sneaking around.”
Luca grinned. “We’re not sneaking.”
Celeste didn’t smile, but her lips twitched. “Not very well, apparently.”
“I’m serious,” Ari said. “This isn’t a high school drama. Ronan will lose it.”
“Let him,” Celeste said, standing and brushing off her skirt. “He doesn’t own me.”
The words were simple. Final. And Ari couldn’t argue. She just watched them go, Luca trailing after Celeste like a lovesick puppy.
“Moron,” she muttered.
That night, Ari found herself in the training room long past curfew. The moonlight spilled through the windows, casting silver shadows across the floor. She moved through the forms instinctively—punch, kick, pivot—trying to drive the confusion from her head.
“You really should be sleeping.”
She spun, landing in a crouch before she realized who it was.
Ronan.
He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “You’re getting predictable.”
Ari straightened. “I needed to clear my head.”
He stepped into the room, letting the door close behind him. “Mind if I join?”
She shrugged. “It’s your academy.”
He moved beside her, falling into the same rhythm. For a while, they trained in silence. It felt natural. Familiar. Like maybe—somewhere deep in their bones—they had known each other forever.
But the quiet didn’t last.
“Why did you come here, Ari?”
She froze mid-punch.
Ronan turned to face her. “You’re not just some transfer student. You’re too good. Too careful. And sometimes… you look like you’re waiting for someone to find you.”
Her breath caught.
“I could help,” he said softly. “If you let me.”
She backed away. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”
“I think I do.”
She looked at him then—really looked—and saw not the cocky alpha everyone else feared, but a boy trying to understand a puzzle he wasn’t meant to solve.
And she nearly told him everything.
But just as her lips parted, the door to the training room slammed open.
Celeste stood there, pale and furious. “You need to come. Now.”
Ronan tensed. “What is it?”
“It’s Luca,” she said. “He’s missing.”
They found his communicator abandoned near the north woods.
Tracks suggested a struggle—but no signs of blood, no scent trail to follow.
Panic knotted in Ari’s chest. Luca never missed check-ins. He never went anywhere without at least sending her a stupid meme. This wasn’t like him.
Celeste was pacing near the perimeter, barking orders at the security enforcers. Her usual cool was gone. She looked… scared.
Ronan touched Ari’s arm. “We’ll find him.”
She nodded tightly, swallowing the fear rising like bile.
“We need to search beyond the border,” she said. “Whatever happened, it wasn’t from inside the academy.”
“That would mean—”
“Someone breached the wards,” Ronan finished grimly.
Celeste looked at him, and for once, her voice wavered. “That’s not possible. Not without—”
“A powerful signature. Or help from the inside.”
Silence fell.
Ari stared into the trees, her heart thudding.
Whoever had taken Luca knew what they were doing.
And they were just getting started.
They organized a search party by dawn. Ari insisted on going with the first team, despite Ronan’s protest. She wasn’t going to sit back and wait.
She owed Luca that much.
As the forest swallowed her whole, she let herself remember every stupid inside joke, every late-night snack raid, every whispered plan they’d made together.
She couldn’t lose him.
Wouldn’t.
And deep down, she knew—this was no random attack.
They were being hunted.
And she was next.
Back at the academy, Ronan was quiet as he watched the teams disappear into the trees. Celeste stood beside him, her arms crossed tightly.
“I shouldn’t have let them go alone,” he muttered.
“She would’ve gone anyway.”
He sighed. “Yeah. That’s what scares me.”
Celeste glanced at him. “You really care about her, don’t you?”
He didn’t answer.
But he didn’t need to.
The tension in his jaw, the worry in his eyes—it said everything.
Deep in the forest, Ari’s group split into pairs. She trailed slightly behind, eyes scanning every bush and shadow.
Her thoughts drifted—not just to Luca’s disappearance, but to what he had told her once, long before Alpha Academy.
He was only fourteen, the night she found him bleeding on her doorstep.
“I messed up, Ari. I ran from them.”
He never told her who. Only that his name wasn’t originally Gray. That someone—maybe something—was still looking for him.
They made a pact that night. New names. New lives. Always protect each other.
And now someone had taken him.
She clenched her fists, fury rising to match the fear.
Whoever did this wasn’t going to get away with it.
Not if she had anything to say about it.
- Writer
