It’s true that the school’s disciplinarian, judge, jury, and executioner is Master Corvin. It means this fight isn’t just gossip fodder anymore. It’s about to become an official record.
Maribel croaks in agreement, one arm clutching her ribs. "Say goodbye to this school. You should’ve been expelled the second she set foot here."
Ivy groans but still manages a sneer. "Trash doesn’t last long in royalty halls."
Ginny chirps in agreement. "We’ll make sure of it."
Their threats boom through the circle, but no one steps toward Heidi. Not after what she just did to them. Still, their bruised and bloody face and torn dignity are the perfect picture of victims. And Heidi knows, with cold certainty, that no one in this crowd will remember who threw the first claws.
Her wolf snarls louder now. "They bleed because of us. They tremble because of us. Yet they dare to taunt still. Give me control. Let me finish them."
Not here. Heidi grits her teeth. Not now.
And then, the heavy thud of shoes on stone announces his arrival. Master Corvin. The disciplinarian strides in his black tailored suits. His eyes travel around the courtyard. The crowd shuffles back like guilty children. Even the loudest gossipers silence themselves.
And when he sees the bruised, ripped, bloodied mess of Sierra and her crew versus one lone newbie with blood on her face and fire in her eyes, his jaw slackens.
"What in the goddess’s name..." He cuts himself short when he sees them. His eyes flick from Sierra’s shredded top to Ginny’s torn blouse, from Maribel groaning to Ivy bleeding at the lip... then to Heidi, standing alone with her own set of bruises.
His eyes thin. "A fight? Here?"
Instantly, Lira moves like she’s been rehearsing this her whole life. She begins in a tone as sweet as sugared milk. "Master Corvin, a good morning to you, sir. Actually, Daphne and I heard noises. We came to investigate. And we found... this." She gestures gracefully toward Heidi, as though pointing to a stain that refuses to come out. "That girl. The Moon Blessed one. She was tearing off Ginny’s top."
Gasps fly around again. Phones lower, unsure if filming anymore is safe under Corvin’s watchful glare.
Lira continues, "Of course, it’s obvious she had already done the same to Sierra. And she’d injured both Maribel and Ivy too. I cannot abide injustice, Master Corvin. Especially not the disrespect of a woman’s dignity." Her voice hardens, just slightly, for effect. "I sincerely hope the offender receives the punishment she deserves."
Heidi’s wolf is pissed beyond measure. "See how the queen paints herself saintly while she poisons your name?"
Corvin’s gaze goes back to Heidi, raking her from head to toe. "A newbie fought four seniors?" His disbelief is palpable. "And overpowered them?"
Daphne steps forward, lips curling. "It’s not that shocking when you realize she’s probably been meddling in the black market already. Everyone knows there are enhancers—hard drugs, that boost fighting skills. Look at her. Look at the destruction. She’s no different than a junkyard stray hopped up on powder."
Murmurs burst through the crowd like popcorn.
Daphne, sensing victory, keeps going. "She’s been in trouble since day one. She’s the one who broke the striker machine during the Awakening ceremony. Ask anyone. She’s reckless, dangerous, and a menace to the school."
Corvin’s gaze sharpens further. He steps closer to Heidi, squinting as though trying to peel back layers. "Oh." His lips curl with recognition. "So you’re the girl."
’The girl’? Heidi almost scoffs.
He lets out a harsh laugh. "No wonder I didn’t recognize you under all those bruises."
Heat spreads over Heidi’s cheeks, though whether it’s shame or fury, she can’t tell.
The wolf whispers like smoke in her veins. "They will cage us. Punish us. Unless we make them fear us again."
But Corvin isn’t done. He straightens to his full, towering height. "All of you. My office. NOW."
The word cracks through the hall like a whip.
The crowd scatters back even further, phones finally lowering, whispers trailing behind like smoke. Sierra and her girls cling to one another dramatically with their injuries front and center. Daphne smirks like a cat who just pushed the fishbowl off the counter. Lira? She smooths her coat, regal as ever, and looking like the innocent Queen she poses to be—a title Heidi now seriously doubts.
She just stands there in the middle of it all, chin lifted, heart beating so loud it fills her ears.
Because whatever waits in Corvin’s office... It won’t be justice.
.
.
Master Corvin’s office smells of old leather, dust, and iron. The walls are lined with tall shelves stuffed with scrolls, tomes, and disciplinary ledgers that look old enough to belong in a museum. Behind his hulking desk sits a chair carved from dark oak with clawed feet. The man himself leans back in it now, fingers tented, and eyes glittering like cold chips of obsidian.
The air is thick. Even the ticking clock on the far wall sounds accusatory.
Sierra sits front and center, dabbing at her split lip with a tissue like a tragic actress in rehearsal. Beside her, Ginny sniffs theatrically, Maribel cradles her ribs with little whimpers, and Ivy stares at the floor as if summoning pity with her silence. They perch on the edge of the chairs, arranged neatly in a row like porcelain dolls, battered but still pompous.
Heidi stands because she’s not offered a chair. Of course. She stands like an exhibit in a zoo with her bruised cheek, stinging scratches, and blood drying sticky under her nails. Her wolf prowls inside her chest, furious, and demanding she tear the room apart. But her human side... her human side knows this is the real battlefield. Words, not claws, will decide her fate here.
"Explain." Corvin begins.
Sierra straightens, tissue pressed delicately to her lip. She inhales, lets out a shaky and dramatic breath that makes Ginny lean closer as if they’re rehearsing a duet.
"Well, Master Corvin, it all started when Heidi borrowed my phone." Sierra begins.
Hold on a moment...
Heidi’s head jerks. Borrowed? What the hell does she mean ’borrowed her phone’?!