My Alphas' Dark Desires - Chapter 360

Chapter 360: Betrayed: They Thought I Did It
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CHAPTER 360

~Dristan’s POV~

I shut my door, leaning against it, my chest aching with emotions I couldn’t quite name, but they were close to a mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal.

They thought I did it.

They actually thought I hurt Marianne. When Principal Whitmore showed me her picture, I realised her instantly.

She was the Merchant’s daughter, the girl whose father had taken Valerie’s necklace.

Back then, all I spared her was a glance, and in fear, she had released the necklace to me.

My mind drifted back to earlier this morning.

I had arrived at school quickly in hopes of making plans for my Guild members for our training plan today, but the next thing I knew, I got a call from Principal Whitmore.

My thoughts hadn’t drifted to this situation when her name flashed across my phone screen. My first thought was probably another drill.

My second was the rumours, and she needed help in catching the culprit. As an heir, I dealt with cases like this regularly. Instead, on entering Ms Heart’s office, she gave me the ‘you’ve gotten into trouble look’, before ushering me in.

Ms. Heart’s voice carried through the door. “Principal, Mr. Alexander is here.”

“Send him in,” came the immediate reply, calm, but there was something sharp beneath it.

I stepped inside, giving Ms. Heart a curt nod before closing the door quietly behind me. The air in Principal Whitmore’s office felt heavy. She was already standing behind her desk, posture straight, eyes unreadable.

“Good morning, ma’am,” I greeted, keeping my tone neutral. “You called for me?”

Her gaze didn’t soften. “Mr. Alexander.”

“Yes?”

“Where were you the night before yesterday?” she asked, voice clipped, like she’d rehearsed the question a dozen times already.

I frowned slightly. “Easy. I was at the Alpha’s house with the other heirs.”

“Do you have an alibi?”

I nodded, resisting the urge to sigh. “Yes. The other heirs can confirm. We were together in the living room—planning training drills and discussing the inter-pack games.”

She studied me silently for what felt like forever. The way her eyes bore into mine reminded me of my father’s interrogation methods—steady, dissecting, waiting for the smallest twitch that could betray guilt.

“Principal Whitmore?” I finally asked, my patience thinning.

Without answering, she moved toward the window, arms folded, her back straight as she stared outside. The morning light framed her like a statue, every bit as cold. When she spoke again, her tone was quieter and more deliberate.

“Do you know Marianne, the Merchant’s daughter?”

The name barely registered at first. I shook my head. “No. Should I?”

She turned then, gesturing to the desk. “Open the file.”

I walked closer, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on. A thick manila file sat on the edge of her desk. I flipped it open and froze.

Marianne’s picture stared back at me.

Not a recent one—the official student photo—but even then, I recognised her. The Merchant’s daughter. The girl whose father had tried to swindle Valerie over her necklace, despite her telling him it was stolen property.

I’d barely looked at her that night, but fear had rolled off her like smoke. One glance from me, and she’d handed it back.

I turned the next page. My stomach twisted. There she was again, this time lying motionless on the ground near one of the campus corridors. Bruised. Pale. The timestamp was from two nights ago.

“Do you know what happened to her?” Principal Whitmore asked.

I lifted my eyes to meet hers. “No.”

“Then tell me why witnesses claim you were seen leaving the southern courtyard not long before she was found unconscious.”

That hit harder than I expected. I blinked once, trying to keep my composure. “That’s impossible. I wasn’t anywhere near the courtyard. You can check the campus logs or security feed.”

“We did,” she replied, and the faintest crease appeared between her brows. “The cameras there malfunctioned that night. Coincidental, perhaps. But the timing… is unfortunate.”

I let out a quiet, humourless laugh. “You think I did this to her? You think I used dark magic?”

Her silence said more than any words could. “I never made mention of what was used. How would you know it unless you…”

Heat crawled up my neck, sharp and angry. “With all due respect, Principal, that’s ridiculous. You’ve seen my record. You know who I am. I have no reason to hurt a girl I barely spoke to.”

Whitmore’s gaze didn’t waver. “Her attackers used an advanced form of dark energy—one that left a very particular trace. The witches from WWA detected a familiar aura during their inspection.”

My brows knit. “Familiar?”

She gave a small nod. “They said it resonated with someone powerful… someone with hybrid lineage.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. My jaw clenched as realization flickered in my mind. “You’re implying it’s me.”

Her expression softened slightly, but not enough. “I’m saying more than your aura was one of those detected near the scene. You, or someone closely connected to you.”

The words punched straight through me. “That’s absurd. I didn’t even know she existed beyond that night. And if the witches’ readings overlap, it could’ve been anyone with similar energy or any of the heirs.”

“Perhaps,” she allowed, “but you were the only one unaccounted for at that particular window of time.”

“That’s not true,” I countered sharply. “Ask Axel. Ask Xade and Kai. I was there with them.”

Whitmore sighed and returned to her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Dristan… this is not an accusation yet. But it’s an investigation. The council has demanded transparency.”

“Transparency?” I repeated bitterly. “You’re practically accusing me in advance.”

“I’m asking for cooperation,” she corrected. “If you’re innocent, this will clear your name. But if you aren’t…”

I took a step back, the edge in her voice setting off every instinct in me. “I don’t appreciate the implication, Principal.”

Her eyes hardened again. “Neither do I appreciate a student lying about his whereabouts when another lies comatose.”

Silence stretched between us like a drawn blade.

Finally, I forced my voice steady. “You’ll get your proof. I didn’t hurt her. And when I find out who did, I’ll make sure they regret ever using my name to cover their tracks.”

Whitmore’s gaze lingered on me for a long moment, searching for something—guilt, maybe. She found none.

“Very well,” she said quietly. “You’re dismissed for now. But Dristan…”

I paused at the door, my hand on the handle.

“Be careful who you trust. Whoever did this used power that shouldn’t exist in this school.”

I gave a tight nod, forcing calm I didn’t feel. “Don’t worry, Principal. I intend to find out exactly who they are.”