"You defied my advice. You took an unauthorized team into dangerous territory. You bonded with a feral who may never accept that bond." She paused. "And you brought five unstable shifters onto a campus full of students without any preparation."
"There wasn't time to prepare. They were dying up there."
"They've been dying for years. A few more weeks wouldn't have—"
"A few more weeks and Cal's mind would have shattered." My voice came out sharper than I intended. "I felt it, Rae. He couldn't survive waiting. Knowing they were out there, suffering, while we filled out paperwork and waited for permission."
Rae closed her eyes.
"I know," she said quietly. "I know why you did it. That doesn't mean there won't be consequences."
A knock at the door.
Not polite. Not patient. The knock of someone who expected the world to rearrange itself around them.
Rae's expression hardened.
"Come in."
Headmaster Twilson stepped inside.
He looked exactly as he always did — gray suit, perfect posture, not a hair out of place. The chaos outside might as well not have existed. He was a man who had built his entire life around control, and he wasn't going to let a little thing like five feral wolves disrupt that.
"Whitaker." His gaze swept the room, taking in James and me with cold assessment. "Miss Orlav."
"Headmaster." Rae's voice was neutral. Careful. "I was just receiving a debriefing—"
"I'm aware of what you were doing." Twilson closed the door behind him. The click of the latch was very loud in the silence. "What I'm unclear on is why I wasn't informed immediately. Why my campus is in lockdown. And why there are five feral wolves in my Healing Center."
"The Healing Center falls under my authority—"
"The safety of this campus falls under mine." Twilson's voice didn't rise, but something in it sharpened. "Three hundred students, many who don't know what walks among them. All of them are my responsibility."
"I understand your concerns—"
"Do you?" He stepped closer to the desk. "One feral was a risk. A calculated one, managed with care and discretion. But five? One of them an alpha with enough strength to tear through reinforced restraints?" He shook his head slowly. "This isn't a healing center anymore. It's a powder keg."
"The ferals are contained—"
"For now." Twilson's gaze shifted to me. That patient, measuring look I remembered from the courtyard. "And what happens when they're not? When the alpha breaks free? When the students realize what's really in this building?"
I opened my mouth to respond.
Rae held up a hand. Stopped me.
"Headmaster," she said, "I share your concerns. The situation is not what any of us would have chosen. But the ferals are here now, and our responsibility is to manage that reality — not to argue about how we arrived at it."
"Managing this reality is exactly what I'm trying to do." Twilson's composure cracked, just slightly.
Rae stood. Slowly. Deliberately. Meeting Twilson's eyes with a calm that was almost dangerous. "I'm calling an emergency Council session myself."
Twilson went still.
"You're calling—"
"I have that authority. You know I do." Rae's voice was steady. "The Council will be informed of what's happened. They will assess the situation. They will make their judgment. But that judgment will be made with full information — not based on panic or political maneuvering."
Something flickered in Twilson's expression. Anger, maybe.
