Kaelen's POV The council chamber is darker than usual, lit only by flickering candles that cast long shadows across the stone walls. Lord Ravenscrest sits at the head of the table, his presence commanding even in this room full of powerful supernatural beings. I stand behind his chair, watching as he addresses the assembled council members. "Gentlemen, ladies," Lord Ravenscrest begins, his voice carrying the authority of decades in power. "Thank you for agreeing to this emergency session." Around the table sit twelve of the most influential supernatural leaders in the region. Vampire elders, werewolf pack leaders, fae nobles, and others whose names carry weight in our world. Most look skeptical, some openly hostile. He did not call the Lycan leaders. "Ravenscrest," says Elder Blackthorne, a vampire whose family has held power for centuries. "This better be worth our time. Calling an emergency council session over some academy politics—" "This is about much more than academy poli
Jason's POV My hands are shaking as we walk down the hallway toward Dean Morrison's office. The email came this morning, short and formal: "Please see me at your earliest convenience to discuss your current situation at the academy." Nothing good ever comes from meetings like this. Ivan walks beside me, his presence steady and reassuring, but I can feel his tension through our bond. He's alert, watchful, like he's expecting trouble. "It'll be fine," I tell myself, but the words sound hollow even in my head. "Whatever he wants to discuss, we'll handle it together," Ivan says quietly, his hand finding mine for a brief squeeze. The Dean's secretary looks up when we enter the outer office, her smile polite but strained. "Mr. Jason? Dean Morrison is waiting for you." She doesn't mention Ivan, but he follows me anyway. I'm grateful for his presence, even though part of me worries about how his intimidating aura might make things worse. Dean Morrison's office is exactly what you'd ex
Kaelen's POVI sit at my desk with my laptop open, staring at the photo editing software on my screen. The calls to the board members went perfectly yesterday, but now I need visual evidence to back up my claims. Evidence that will convince them Jason is truly dangerous.The original photos I took during the rescue mission show Ivan fighting the guards, his claws extended, blood on his hands. But these photos show him defending himself, protecting Jason. I need something more damning.I open the first image—Ivan with his claws out, standing over a fallen guard. With careful editing, I can remove the dungeon background, replace it with the academy courtyard. Make it look like Ivan attacked an innocent student on campus.My fingers hover over the keyboard. This is it. Once I do this, there's no going back.I think about Avalon, and my chest tightens. He's somewhere on campus right now, probably following Jason around like a lost puppy, begging for forgiveness that will never come. Does
Jason's POVThe familiar iron gates of Blackwood Academy come into view as Ivan's car winds up the mountain road. My hands shake in my lap, and I press them together to stop the trembling. After everything that happened in that dungeon, after the harvesting and the pain and the fear, coming back here feels surreal."You sure about this?" Ivan asks, glancing at me from the driver's seat. His silver eyes are still worried, like they have been ever since he pulled me out of that cell.I nod, though I'm not sure about anything anymore. "The academy is neutral ground. The magical protections are stronger than anywhere else we could go.""My father already approved everything with the lycan council," Ivan says. "There won't be any political problems. The rescue mission was sanctioned."That should make me feel better, but it doesn't. Nothing feels safe anymore.The car stops in front of the main dormitory building. Students are walking around the courtyard, heading to classes or just hangin
Lord Ravenscrest's POVThe remains of my dungeon still smolder from the lycan prince's assault. Three levels of carefully constructed security, decades of planning, all reduced to ash and corpses in a single night. Dr. Thorne's body has been removed, but his blood still stains the stone floor where he died.My most valuable asset—gone. My son's betrayal—complete. My reputation among the supernatural community—damaged beyond immediate repair.But I am not a man who accepts defeat.I stand in my ruined study, glass crunching under my boots from the windows the lycans shattered during their retreat. The morning light streams in, illuminating the destruction, but my mind is already moving beyond this setback to the next phase of my plan.The secure phone in my desk drawer rings twice before a familiar voice answers."My lord?""Kaelen." His name comes out as a growl. "I trust you've heard about last night's... incident.""Yes, sir. The entire supernatural community is talking about it. Th
Ivan's POVThe service tunnel Avalon described runs exactly where he said it would—beneath the wine cellar, connecting to a forgotten storage area near the dungeon levels. My team moves through the darkness with practiced silence: Marcus and Dmitri flanking me, while Avalon guides us despite his still-healing wounds."The guards rotate every four hours," Avalon whispers, checking his watch. "We have maybe twenty minutes before the next shift change."But something feels wrong the moment we emerge into the dungeon corridor. There are too many guards—at least twenty instead of the twelve Avalon mentioned. Lord Ravenscrest has reinforced his defenses."It's a trap," Marcus hisses, but we're already committed.The first guard spots us, and all hell breaks loose.Silver blades flash in the torchlight. I shift partially, claws extending as I tear through two guards who rush us. Behind me, I hear Dmitri's roar of pain, then Marcus shouting warnings. The narrow corridor becomes a bloodbath of