I stare at Jackson like he’s an idiot now. Because…honestly I really kind of did think that he’d figured it out, at a least a little bit. Or that once I told him, all the pieces would snap into place.
But the way he’s looking at me…Jackson does not know.
He bought, hook line and sinker, the lie that I’m Ari Clark, royal cousin who has some strange and elusive tie to his mate.
“Jacks,” I growl, shaking my head. “No, it’s…it’s me. Your mate is me.” And with that, I whip off my cap, revealing the hair braided in a coil on top of my head, letting my true scent free.
He continues staring at me, uncomprehending. But I see him stumble back a step, his eyes going wide the moment my scent hits him.
“How…” he murmurs, his voice trembling. “How can you…you’re a Cadet…you’re male…”
“Oh my god,” I groan, dipping my face into my hand for a second before dropping my hat and grabbing the hem of my shirt, tugging it up halfway as fast as I can so that he can see the shape of my body beneath, my wider hips, my trim waist. “Jacks, no, I’m a girl.”
I stand there, my shirt fisted against my breasts, staring at him, breathless.
Realization hits Jackson like a bus.
His eyes go wide and he stumbles back a step, not breathing, his face going deathly pale in the light of the moon. I stare at Jackson, watching him struggle to make sense of the newly disparate pieces of the world. His eyes move fast over me again and again before, always, returning to my face.
But he just stares back at me, slack-jawed, not saying a word.
And then, after a long, long moment of staring at each other, Jackson just…turns on his heel.
And stalks away.
And I stare after him in…absolute shock.
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