My Alphas' Dark Desires novel Chapter 262

Chapter 262: Summoned: Wouldn’t She Be Important?

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Chapter 262

~Principal Whitmore’s POV~ 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

I had been dodging the summons for weeks. Carefully. Deliberately.

There was always something—an outbreak of hex fever among the first-years, a misfired portal that nearly swallowed the northern corridor, a staff dispute that supposedly required my delicate mediation. Convenient chaos, believable lies.

But the third letter was different.

It arrived glowing, sealed with the mark of the United Council of Alphas. The kind of letter you didn’t ignore.

Not without consequences. No pleasantries, no option to reschedule—just a place, a time, and an order etched in binding runes I couldn’t defy.

So now here I stood.

The chamber was colder than I remembered. Every time I came here, it felt less like a council hall and more like a crypt.

Ornate carvings lined the walls, symbols of legacy and law, power and punishment.

The long table stretched before me, crafted from shadowwood, its surface pulsing faintly with dormant magic.

At its head sat the Alpha Kings, the Grand Alpha.

Storm. Zeno. Alexander. Draven. Xavier. And flanking them, their Alpha advisors.

Everyone was still, watching everything.

I exhaled slowly, smoothing down the nonexistent creases on my coat. My heels clicked against the stone floor as I stepped forward.

Their eyes tracked me suspiciously as though they could read me. Not one blinked.

Then Alpha Storm broke the silence.

"Whitmore... who is she?"

There was no preamble, no confusion, just a quiet demand, lined with something colder than curiosity.

I didn’t flinch. I’d prepared for this. "It was a false alarm, Alphas. No need to be worried."

Alpha Alexander’s voice sliced in, calm and clear. "Are we worried, or are you?"

I stilled, no fidgeting this time. I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin.

"I’m not."

A beat passed, then Alpha Zeno stared like he could peel back my skin. Alpha Draven was tapping his fingers against the wood rhythmically and slowly.

While Alpha Xavier leaned back, keeping his expression stoic as ever.

I took another step forward. Held my ground.

"No," I said, firmer this time. "I’m not."

"Then explain what happened during the assessment," Alexander repeated, slower, like I might try to twist my way out of it again.

I didn’t. "A mild earthquake. A natural tremor. Nothing more."

Alpha Storm rose from his seat. The movement wasn’t fast, but it sent a ripple through the air—authority carried in every slow step he took.

"I’ve heard... and I know the others here have as well." He looked around the table. "So I’ll ask again. Who is Valerie Nightshade? And is she truly... an elemental?"

"She’s not important," I said—too quickly. I reined myself back, adjusted my tone. "You want her to be. You’re looking for meaning. But she isn’t special. She’s just... unusual."

So I said nothing, and judging by the way their gazes sharpened—they knew it, they knew the truth.

"Answer, Principal Whitmore."

"If I had the answer to that, I wouldn’t be as lost as you all are right now. But all I can say is, the Moon Goddess never did anything without a reason."

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~Valerie’s POV~

I tugged on my black snug jeans, then slipped on a black tank top over my matching bra. The cotton clung to my skin as I moved, fitting close enough to feel secure but loose enough to breathe.

My sneakers followed next—black with slightly faded soles from too much walking.

I wasn’t really planning to go anywhere tonight. Just needed air and some distance.

I reached for my crossbody bag, slinging it over my shoulder as I made for the door—but my phone buzzed before I could twist the knob.

A notification blinked on screen: Bonfire Night – Students’ Gathering. Starts in 30 minutes.

I stared at it for a beat, lips pressed tight. Typical. I hadn’t seen anything about it before, though I suspected someone had mentioned it during one of the endless scrolls of group messages I half-read and never replied to.

My first instinct? Ignore it. Stay in. Watch the city lights from the hotel balcony and breathe.

But I knew better.

If I didn’t show up, someone would report back—maybe Emerald, maybe Isla. One, two or more of my mates would insist on staying behind with me. I’d lose the one rare chance I had to be alone.

With a small sigh, I turned back toward the room. My bag had landed crooked on the bed. As I adjusted it, something slipped halfway out of the front pocket.

The hair dye.