The Alpha Twins' Lottery Mate

Nikolai leaned back against the plush leather sofa, one arm draped over the armrest as he watched Starlight from across the office with a cold, calculating gaze. The girl was an absolute anomaly. Most first-years, when called into the Headmistress’s office, would be panicking, trembling under the sheer weight of authority in the room, but she had walked in with her chin up and an unbothered edge to her step. Even now, seated across from Headmistress Whitmore, she looked more annoyed than intimidated, as though the meeting were an inconvenience she would rather do without.

And to think she had actually gone ahead and antagonized the Headmistress. Nikolai suppressed a dark smirk. He could practically feel Headmistress Whitmore’s patience wearing thinner with every reckless word that left Starlight’s mouth, and with it came the steady increase in her oppressive aura filling the room. Even with his powerful bloodline, Nikolai could feel that heavy presence pricking at his skin like invisible needles pressing against his instincts. It was not yet enough to make him snap, but for Starlight to sit there completely unaffected by it was unnerving, if not outright unnatural.

Was she truly not human and somehow immune to the pressure released by a werewolf? A wave of sharp intrigue washed over him. Now he was beginning to understand why Mikhail was so obsessed with her. She defied every standard they had ever associated with humans.

Most werewolves would have been shrinking into their seats by now under the sheer amount of crushing dominance Headmistress Whitmore was releasing, yet Starlight simply sat there looking mildly restless, as if she were waiting for a boring speech to end. Interesting.

Nikolai deliberately cleared his throat, the sharp sound cutting through the heavy atmosphere and instantly drawing both women’s attention to him. He offered the Headmistress a lingering, pointed look. Headmistress Whitmore caught the silent message immediately and exhaled slowly.

”My apologies, Your Highness,” she said, her tone noticeably softer. Almost immediately, the invisible pressure filling the room vanished.

Starlight raised an eyebrow, her gaze flickering between the two of them in utter confusion. Did the Headmistress of the entire academy just apologize to Nikolai Wolfhart because he coughed? The absolute absurdity of the moment made her want to laugh out loud. What kind of bizarre power dynamic was she sitting in the middle of? Not only had she apologized to the prince because he had coughed, but she was also acting all polite and deferential toward him. Starlight understood that Nikolai was an Imperial Prince and therefore deserved a certain level of respect, but he was still a student here, and the Headmistress was supposed to be the highest authority in the academy.

Talk about royal privileges.

”Miss Dawson,” Headmistress Whitmore called, drawing Starlight’s wandering attention back to her. The warmth she had shown Nikolai was completely absent from her voice. ”Your recent conduct has crossed lines that this academy cannot overlook. Violence against fellow students, regardless of provocation, carries severe penalties.”

Unwilling to argue with the Headmistress any further and risk making matters worse, Starlight swallowed her retort, but not her indignation. If the Headmistress wanted to play biased games, then Starlight would patiently listen, but she would make absolutely sure her disdain was written clearly across her face.

”When you were admitted under the Lunar Lottery, you were expected to uphold the decorum, discipline, and respect that this institution demands,” Headmistress Whitmore continued, her tone growing increasingly cold. ”We have a comprehensive code of conduct in place, and every student is expected to abide by it. It includes exercising restraint, regardless of provocation. You are expected to report conflicts to the appropriate authorities, seek intervention from faculty members, or even bring the matter to your academic mother and allow the established disciplinary procedures to take their course. You are not permitted to decide for yourself when another student’s behavior deserves retaliation.”

Starlight remained silent, though her expression made it clear she had plenty to say.

”Do you honestly think that if those princesses had retaliated against you the way you retaliated against them, you would have survived?” Headmistress Whitmore asked, her gaze hardening. ”What do you think would happen if a werewolf decided to respond to violence with violence? Do you truly believe that you, a mere human, would stand a chance against them? The only reason you weren’t seriously injured was because this academy has strict rules requiring werewolves to restrain themselves around humans, and fortunately for you, both princesses appear to have followed those rules. Do not mistake their restraint for weakness, Miss Dawson, and do not convince yourself that you are somehow in control of a situation simply because your opponents chose not to retaliate.”

Starlight’s jaw tightened at the lecture.

There it was again, that tone that made it sound as though humans were inherently helpless, fragile creatures who could do nothing but depend on werewolves to show mercy. Hearing the Headmistress frame the situation as though Starlight had been helplessly spared by the mercy of the very people who had started all this only made her irritation burn hotter.

”Count yourself very, very lucky that neither princess pressed full charges for those assaults,” Whitmore continued, resting her hands flat on the blotter. ”Otherwise, you would have been facing immediate suspension that would leave a permanent mark on your record. I’m only allowing you to remain here instead of sending you packing because His Imperial Highness intervened on your behalf.”

Starlight’s head snapped toward Nikolai, her brows knotting together in deep suspicion.

”However,” the Headmistress added, gesturing subtly toward the sofa, ”he has proposed an alternative path, one that allows you the opportunity to make up for these incidents rather than face the harsher disciplinary measures the academy would otherwise impose.”

”Honestly, ma’am,” Starlight replied, her tone dripping with quiet sarcasm, ”I think I’d rather take the harsher disciplinary measures.”

”Starlight Dawson!” Whitmore snapped, her voice rising with dangerous warning.

”Headmistress Whitmore,” Nikolai called before the Headmistress could fully unleash her temper on Starlight. He pushed himself off the sofa and stood to his full height before approaching the desk. ”Would you please excuse us for a moment?” he asked, his voice calm but leaving little room for argument. ”I believe Miss Dawson simply needs it made crystal clear to her that she doesn’t actually have a choice in this matter.”

Whitmore stared at him for a brief moment, then glanced toward Starlight before releasing a quiet sigh. ”Very well, Your Imperial Highness. Take as much time as you need.” She pushed herself away from the desk, straightened her clothes, and gave Nikolai a slight bow before walking out of her office, closing the door behind her and leaving the two of them alone.

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