"I am not!" Mom says with a sigh and a dismissive wave of her hand, clearly done with this argument. "It just made sense. Now if we can please get on our way, beloved daughter?" I scowl and storm away, not looking back over my shoulder, pissed as hell.

Ella moves to follow Ariel, but Rafe reaches out, tugging on her sleeve and making her hang back. Surprised, Ella looks up into Rafe's face.

"You are playing favorites, you know," he says, smirking down at her.

Ella's mouth drops open, appalled, but when Rafe just raises an eyebrow at her she gives up the act, a sly grin shaping her lips.

Rafe laughs and shakes his head as the two of them start off towards the helicopter. "You're not being fair, mom. You always play favorites."

"A game from which you benefit deeply, my little meatball," Ella says, wrapping an arm around her eldest son's waist and pulling him close to her side.

Rafe slows his steps. "So, you really like Jackson better?" he asks quietly, glancing towards the helicopter where Ariel sits curled at Jackson's side, fastening her seatbelt.

"Oh, come on," Ella says, dry, and Rafe looks down into his mother's beautiful face. "You want me to choose between the guy who made millions publicizing the fact that he's mated to my daughter and the guy who carried her for hours across a battlefield and then sobbed for thirty minutes straight while I worked to heal her?"

Rafe bursts into a smile. "I didn't know you saw that."

"I see everything, Meatball," Ella says, tugging him towards the helicopter. "It's really not a contest. But...don't tell Ariel I have favorites, okay? Luca's family too now, and I do love him. Jackson's just...special to me."

"Secret's safe with me," Rafe murmurs, climbing into the helicopter and then holding out a hand to help his mother up.

I'm still scowling as mom and Rafe climb into the helicopter, and when we take off and start to fly south towards the Academy. But as I turn to look out the window, the sight of Jackson reading through the magazine article about him breaks my mood and makes me smile. "What do you think?" I ask, leaning my head against his arm and peering at the magazine open on his lap.

"It's weird," he murmurs, glancing at me with a little smile and then back down at the page, where more pictures of him with the Royals are printed alongside rampant speculations about why he spent Midwinter at the palace.

"You're gonna have fans now, Jacks," Jesse says, leaning over me a little to look as well. I laugh to find myself squished a bit between the two big Alphas, my cousin and my mate. "All sorts of girls trying to find you on social media, wanting to slip into your DM's." Jackson glances up at Jesse with a frown and then shakes his head with a sigh. "I'm not even going to ask what a DM is," he murmurs. "I don't want to know."

"You might," Jesse says with a wicked grin. "Lots of pretty girls in this city, and you didn't get to meet any of them because Ariel kept you hidden away in the palace where none of them could get at you."

I growl, possessive, and elbow Jesse in the ribs. He laughs and grins at me, wicked.

"I met girls," Jackson murmurs absently, still flipping through the pages.

Jesse's gasp of delight rivals my squeak of horror as I turn my protest towards Jackson now. "What!?"

"At the bar," Jackson says, frowning and sending me a confused glance. "The night of the fight. A couple of girls came and introduced themselves - one bought me a drink. Two drinks, actually."

"What!?" I nearly shriek, making everyone in the helicopter turn to me.

"What's happening," Jackson asks, putting the magazine down and glancing between me and Jesse with a frown. "Is that bad? Am I...should I not be meeting people?"

I just stare at Jackson, completely conflicted, while Jesse cackles with glee and elbows me back. "Can't precisely forbid him, can you, Ariel?" Jesse says. "Not when you're out the same night with another man. Why shouldn't he do the same?"

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