My Alphas' Dark Desires-Chapter 111: Wait To Reap the Spoil

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Chapter 111

~Ash’s POV~

Ace grinned lazily. "You’re brooding harder than a vampire caught in daylight. It’s cute."

"Piss off."

"Not until you tell me why Dristan’s living in your head rent-free."

I turned sharply toward him. "Because he did it again. Just swooped in like a damn dark knight, threw lightning like it was candy, and made Valerie look at him like—like—"

"Like she wanted to rip his shirt off and pledge her loyalty?" Ace supplied helpfully.

I groaned, dragging a hand through my hair. "You’re not helping."

"I’m not trying to help. I’m trying to keep you from sulking so hard that the cliff gives up and swallows you."

I didn’t answer.

Ace sat up straighter, tone shifting slightly. "Ash... you know this isn’t just about him saving her."

"It is. It is exactly that," I snapped, more forcefully than intended. "Every time I think she’s warming up to me—to us—he shows up."

"Is she?"

"Yes. Brooding and cold and dripping with power. And I know she sees it. She sees him. No matter how hard I try, I don’t have that edge. He seems integrated into her."

"Why do I hear you complaining like you’ve given up?"

Ace was quiet for a beat. Then he spoke calmly. "You’re not a flicker, Ash. You’re the burn that stays. Unlike the others, we have not made our claims with her. We need to show Valerie we are worthy of being her mates too "

"She doesn’t push him away," I murmured.

"No. But she doesn’t pull him close either."

I clenched my fists, the leather of my gloves creaking faintly.

The memory of Valerie today—dirt on her cheek, sweat on her brow, and still managing to look like a warrior queen—burned into my skull.

But the way she looked at Dristan after he appeared? Like the world had stopped just for them?

It twisted something in my gut. Ace nudged me with his shoulder. "So what are you gonna do?"

I glanced at him. "About what?"

"About her. About Dristan. About this whole twisted game of who-can-save-the-princess-first."

"She’s not a princess," I muttered. "She’d slap you for that."

"True. But you still want her."

Silence fell again, longer this time. The wind carried the sound of laughter from the distant dorms.

After much deliberation, I said, "I’m going to remind her that I don’t need a lightning show to prove I care. I don’t need sparks to mean something. I don’t believe she is a property, and I need her to see that I can be more than what she thinks of me."

Ace grinned, slowly but dangerously. "There he is."

"And," I added, standing, "next time Dristan tries to make a scene, I’m going to give him one."

Ace laughed, climbing to his feet beside me. "Now that, I’ll pay to watch."

"Better make your move on Valerie too."

Ace leaned back against the wall. "And why should I do that when I just have to sit, watch as you all fight and lose and then I reap the best when she sees what losers you all are." Ace let a soft laugh, shaking his head.

I scowled and he lifted his hand. "Of course, you are not among. I can share with you after I win her."

I sighed, shaking my head as well. "It’s how relaxed you are for me."

"Life is already hard, so why make things even more difficult? I learnt that by looking at Xade and Xander."

"What has the Dragon Prince got to do with Valerie?"

"Nothing. I can tell he is not her mate; otherwise, none of us would be alive without so many injuries. We’d be lucky to escape with a few scratches. Dragons are the most possessive of their mates."

"Okay..." I drawled, folding my hands in front of my chest. "Point taken."

"So... Xade is cunning and Xander watches quietly, waiting for the right moment."

"I understand. But with Valerie, would there ever be a right moment?"

"That is a question I cannot answer but I’m willing to take the risk and not overwhelm her," Ace answered before I could cut in, leaving me speechless.

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~Valerie’s POV~

The late morning sun filtered through the tall windows, casting soft shapes across the desks.

Although it wasn’t a history class, it was literature, and it was the one class with the professor of interest, Professor Anderlyn.

The light danced a bit on the tiled floor, landing on open books and half-finished notes. One of those quiet, warm mornings almost made you forget how weird and tense things had been lately.

Almost.

Professor Anderlyn stood at the front of the class, writing something on the board in his usual neat, looping script.

He wore his usual button-up and rolled-up sleeves, and his greying hair was tied loosely at the back.

There was something old-school about him—like he belonged in another time. He never raised his voice, never smiled too much, and always looked like he knew more than he was letting on.

Which was exactly why I couldn’t stop watching him.

"Today," he said calmly, tapping the board with a black marker pen, "we’ll be looking at ancient alliance texts—specifically, the phrasing used during the early Alliance treaties. You’ll notice the structure, tone, and language were not just ceremonial, but deeply symbolic."

I glanced around the classroom. Most students were only half listening. Axel was doodling in the corner of his notes.

Titania looked bored out of her mind. Ash and Ace were whispering. Astraea, to her credit, was taking notes, while Kieran sat three rows behind me like he owned the place, his posture too relaxed to be innocent.

I raised my hand slowly. "Professor?"

He looked up, nodding once. "Yes, Miss Nightshade?"

I kept my voice light, knowing I was taking the class subtly in a different direction. "When the original accords were written... were there any symbols that were eventually banned or altered? Say... something like the Nightshade Crest?"

The room got a little quieter. I heard a chair squeak behind me. Professor Anderlyn didn’t flinch, but I noticed his pause, just half a breath too long.

He tilted his head, thinking. "The Nightshade Crest," he repeated in a steady voice. "That... is a symbol with a complicated history. Once linked to a lesser-known House during the early alliance. It was removed... mostly for political reasons."

"Mostly?" I asked.

His eyes flicked to mine—sharply but I could not read him. "There were whispers of misuse. Of one house trying to modify the sigils for power or influence and one kingdom trying to tie it to blood and something not good for what an alliance stood for."

"Why? And which house or race did that?"

Rather than answering me directly, he twisted his answer a bit. "Symbols, Miss Nightshade, are not just decoration. They carry intention."

There was something in the way he said that. Calm, calculated, but the edge in his tone wasn’t lost on me.

I leaned forward a little. "But why erase it completely from the records? Wouldn’t it be better to learn from it?"

He offered a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Some histories are buried for a reason. And some names... were meant to fade."

My stomach twisted. That was too specific to be random.

I forced a small smile back. "Right. Just curious."

"Curiosity is good," he said quietly. "But remember, Miss Nightshade, in this world... some questions come with answers you might not be ready for."