Chapter 13: Amber Crossed the Line

Monday morning began with a photograph.

I was halfway through breakfast when Maya sent it to me.

The image showed Rowan fastening the crescent necklace around my neck outside my apartment.

It had been taken from across the courtyard.

Underneath, someone had posted:

*Princess Aurora works fast. Childhood boyfriend out, Alpha heir in. Upgrade successful.*

My stomach turned cold.

Mom noticed.

“What happened?”

I handed her the phone.

Her expression hardened.

“Who posted this?”

“Anonymous academy account.”

Another message arrived.

Then another.

The photograph had already spread through several student groups.

Some comments defended me.

Others were worse.

*She probably knew he was an Alpha heir before the slap.*

*Imagine dumping your childhood guy because a richer mate shows up.*

*Maybe Cole finally got tired of being used.*

I stopped reading.

Echo paced inside me.

Not frightened.

Furious.

Mom reached for her phone.

“I’m calling the academy.”

“Wait.”

She looked at me.

“I want to handle the school part first.”

“Aurora—”

“If they don’t do anything, then call.”

Mom studied my face.

Then nodded.

“Okay.”

At Ashvale, the whispers started before I reached the front doors.

I kept walking.

Maya met me at my locker.

“I reported the account.”

“Thanks.”

“Half the strategy division did.”

That surprised me.

She shrugged.

“You’re not as alone as you think.”

The words warmed something inside me.

Cole arrived a minute later.

He looked furious.

Not at me.

“Did you see it?”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to find out who posted it.”

“No.”

He stared at me.

“No?”

“Report it. Don’t start threatening people.”

His jaw flexed.

“I wasn’t going to threaten anyone.”

I raised an eyebrow.

He exhaled.

“Fine. I was considering it.”

“Don’t.”

Cole nodded.

“Okay.”

That single agreement showed more growth than all his apologies from the previous week.

Amber entered the hallway.

Conversation dipped.

She saw us and stopped.

Her eyes landed on my necklace.

Then she smiled.

“Cute.”

I watched her carefully.

“Did you take the picture?”

Her smile disappeared.

“What?”

“The picture circulating this morning.”

“No.”

“Did you post it?”

“No.”

Her answer came quickly, but not defensively enough to convince me of anything.

Cole stepped forward.

“Amber.”

She glared at him.

“I said I didn’t.”

Ms. Hale appeared before the conversation could escalate.

“Aurora. Cole. Amber. Office. Now.”

The academy administrator, Dean Keller, was waiting.

So was Rowan.

Silvercrest had apparently been informed.

Rowan’s expression softened when I entered, but he didn’t come toward me.

Dean Keller folded his hands.

“We are treating this as targeted harassment and unauthorized photography on residential pack property.”

Amber shifted.

“I didn’t post anything.”

“No one accused you yet, Ms. Lawson.”

Her face colored.

Dean Keller continued.

“The academy network logs show the account was created using a student device. We will identify it.”

Cole spoke.

“What happens when you do?”

“Disciplinary review.”

Rowan’s voice was calm.

“And the photograph?”

“We’ve issued takedown requests to academy channels.”

I laughed without humor.

“It’s already on private group chats.”

Dean Keller looked at me.

“I know. We cannot erase every copy.”

Exactly.

Once humiliation became entertainment, there was no collecting it again.

I thought of Amber’s jokes.

Months of tiny cuts dismissed because each one seemed too small to punish.

Princess.

Barbie.

Stray.

Sensitive.

And now this.

“I want it documented,” I said.

Dean Keller nodded.

“It will be.”

“All of it.”

Amber’s head snapped toward me.

I continued.

“Not just the photo. The comments for months. The names. The ‘stray’ insult. Everything.”

Dean Keller’s expression changed.

Ms. Hale looked at Amber.

“Why wasn’t I informed?”

“Because every time it happened, someone called it a joke.”

Silence.

Cole stared at the floor.

I looked at him.

“And because people who heard it kept telling me not to take it seriously.”

His face tightened.

“I know.”

Amber crossed her arms.

“This is ridiculous. You insulted me too.”

“Yes.”

I looked directly at Dean Keller.

“I called her a bitch after she repeatedly mocked me. I threw water at her after she called me a stray. Put that in the report too.”

Amber seemed surprised.

I wasn’t interested in pretending I had behaved perfectly.

I was interested in context.

Dean Keller nodded slowly.

“That is exactly how this process should work.”

By lunch, the account was gone.

By afternoon, the owner had been identified.

It was one of Amber’s closest friends from warrior prep.

Lena Brooks.

But the story wasn’t over.

Lena had taken the photograph.

Amber had written the caption.

When Dean Keller called us back, Amber’s face was white.

“I didn’t post it.”

Dean Keller’s voice was stern.

“You supplied the caption knowing Ms. Brooks intended to distribute the image.”

“I thought she was sending it to our private chat.”

My stomach turned.

“So it was okay if only your friends humiliated me?”

Amber looked at me.

“I was angry.”

“About what?”

She didn’t answer.

Cole did.

“Because Aurora went out with Rowan.”

Amber spun toward him.

“Shut up.”

“No.”

Cole’s voice was quiet.

Everyone stared.

He looked exhausted.

“You’ve been doing this for months.”

Amber’s eyes widened.

“You laughed too.”

Cole flinched.

“Yes.”

“You defended me.”

“Yes.”

“You told her she was sensitive.”

“Yes.”

His voice cracked.

“I was wrong.”

The room went silent.

Amber stared at him as though he had betrayed her.

Maybe in her mind, he had.

Cole looked at me.

“I should have stopped it the first time.”

I said nothing.

He turned back to Amber.

“And I should never have made Aurora feel like defending herself was the bigger problem.”

Amber’s eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, so now you’re perfect?”

“No.”

Cole’s answer came instantly.

“I hit her.”

The bluntness shocked everyone.

He swallowed.

“I’m probably the last person who gets to judge anyone in this room. But I’m done pretending we didn’t all know what was happening.”

Amber wiped at her eyes angrily.

Dean Keller suspended her and Lena from extracurricular activities pending review.

Amber would miss the rescheduled regional trial.

Because she had been Cole’s strategist, his team was disqualified unless an alternate could be approved.

Outside the office, Amber rounded on me.

“Happy?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not happy. I wanted you to stop.”

“Well, congratulations.”

She gestured toward the office.

“You got what you wanted.”

I looked at her.

“No, Amber. You got consequences.”

Her face twisted.

“You think Rowan makes you better than everyone.”

“This has nothing to do with Rowan.”

“Everything has to do with him! You were nobody until the Silvercrest heir smelled you and decided you were special.”

The words struck somewhere old.

The part of me that had once measured my worth by whether Cole chose me.

I stepped closer.

“I was somebody before Cole protected me.”

Amber went quiet.

“I was somebody when he liked me. I was somebody when he laughed at me. I was somebody when he hit me. And I was somebody before Rowan ever walked into that library.”

My voice remained steady.

“You should figure out who you are when no boy is watching.”

Her face crumpled.

For one second, she looked less like my bully and more like a frightened sixteen-year-old who had built her identity around winning attention.

Then the anger returned.

She walked away.

Cole remained behind.

“Aurora.”

I sighed.

“What?”

He held out his phone.

On the screen was a group chat.

His warrior prep friends had been sharing jokes about me for months.

Cole had left the chat.

Before leaving, he had written:

*Stop using her name. I should have stopped this months ago. What happened is on me too.*

I looked at him.

“You didn’t have to show me.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Because I want you to know I’m not going to let them use me as an excuse anymore.”

I handed the phone back.

“Good.”

His eyes searched mine.

Not for forgiveness this time.

Maybe just acknowledgment.

He got it.

Nothing more.

The rescheduled trial was the next day.

Because Amber was suspended, Cole’s team received a replacement strategist: Noah Grant, a quiet boy from the advanced theory class.

Cole didn’t complain.

Our team reached the final round.

The last challenge was a simulated pack evacuation.

Strategists had to move twelve civilian markers across a map while combat candidates dealt with surprise threats.

Halfway through, I realized the obvious route was designed to fail.

“Rowan, abandon the north gate.”

His voice came through the link.

*That’s the evacuation point.*

“It’s a trap.”

*Where do you want us?*

I studied the terrain.

“The river.”

Maya groaned.

*It’s freezing.*

“You’re a wolf.”

*Cruel strategist.*

Rowan laughed through the link.

*You heard her. River.*

They trusted me.

Not blindly.

Because we had practiced.

Because I had earned it.

We won by forty-three seconds.

When the final horn sounded, I stood frozen at the command station.

Then Maya tackled me.

“We won!”

I screamed.

Rowan reached us seconds later, wet from the river and grinning.

He stopped before joining the hug.

“Permission?”

I laughed.

“Yes!”

He wrapped both of us in his arms.

Echo howled with joy.

The stands erupted.

I saw Mom crying.

Dad’s ridiculous pink sign was back.

Then I saw Cole.

His team had finished third.

He stood beside Noah, watching me.

For a moment, I expected jealousy.

Instead, he lifted his hand and applauded.

Once.

Twice.

Then steadily.

My smile faded into something softer.

I nodded to him.

Cole nodded back.

That was all.

That evening, the academy posted the official trial results.

Aurora Vale — First Place Strategist.

My name.

Not Cole’s childhood friend.

Not Rowan Blackwood’s mate.

Not Princess.

Mine.

I stared at it for a long time.

Then I saved the screenshot.

Some memories deserved to be kept.