"Intercepted. Heading east."

  Fin took the scroll from Colonel Sterling. His eyes narrowed as he read, lips pressing into a hard line.

  He handed the letter to Jax without a word.

  Jax's eyes flicked quickly over the words. "Lying little snake."

  "What happened?"

  "Meredith dismissed her guards and assaulted Nova. Nova didn't fight back. Elder Norrin was right outside the door and heard."

  "Was she provoked?" Fin asked, almost in disbelief.

  "No." Jax's voice was rough with contained fury.

  "She said she hoped Nova was raped by every warrior here, that she'd die screaming. Called her mother a whore. Promised she'd finish what her mother started."

  The temperature in the room dropped like someone had opened a door to winter.

  Behind them, Brutus Sterling let out a slow, disgusted breath. "That is not the behavior of a princess. It's the behavior of a coward."

  He shook his head. "A leader who lays hands on the defenseless invites the gods to take notice. And they always do. Eventually."

  Jax rubbed his jaw with one hand, eyes fixed on the fire.

  "She wrote this letter to cover herself or to lay the groundwork."

  "She's trying to manipulate Riven," Fin said, voice cool. "If this explodes, she wants to look like the wounded party."

  Sterling folded his arms, posture solid as oak. "We can bury this. No one else has seen the letter."

  Finric turned from the fire, gaze sharp as fresh steel. "I don't care how small the incident. If anyone touches that girl, I want to know immediately."

  Jax nodded once, guilt flickering under his anger. "Understood. She won't be out of my sight."

  Fin walked back to the table, picked up the letter, and read it again — slowly. His expression changed from anger to disbelief.

  He turned toward the hearth, the letter hanging loosely at his side.

  "Think this is retaliation for being dismissed?" he asked.

  "Retaliation implies strategy. This reads more like spite with stationery," Jax said. "And it's war bait."

  Fin nodded once. "I want a watch on Meredith's wing."

  "It'll be done," Sterling grunted.

  ???

  You talked in your sleep last night.

  Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Times up.

  The notes didn't stop.

  Nova tried to burn them. Elle tried to laugh them off.

  The whispers got worse. Some said she was trying to seduce the Alpha. Others called her the Mad King's bastard. Most agreed she didn't have a wolf.

  She held her head high, ignoring the venom.

  Even with the notes and whispers, Nova found her footing.

  The classroom today was colder than usual, both in temperature and tone.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  "Two hundred years ago," Shard began, "Varos held twenty-one major packs. After the Unification Conflict, that number dropped to fifteen. And today"—he tapped a single finger against the map—"we stand at fourteen."

  He gave a careless shrug.

  "Some bloodlines die. Nature corrects its mistakes. There are still small packs in Varos, of course. But they tend to be absorbed into larger ones. Why is that, Ms. Varrin?"

  A few students stiffened at the cruelty.

  Elle didn't blink. "Rogues, sir. It's a safety issue, like what happened to my pack." Her voice was unemotional. Just facts.

  Shard continued, not acknowledging her answer. He scanned the rows like a predator picking a target.

  "How did six major packs vanish in the last two hundred years? Anyone?"

  Silence.

  Shard's smile sharpened. "Moonveil. Do speak for once."

  Nova lifted her eyes, green and steady.

  "I... don't think they disappeared, sir. Not exactly."

  A few heads turned.

  Shard folded his arms. "Go on."

  "The eastern packs... the four of them ... they didn't fall in battle. They were taken in, three absorbed by Redmoon, and one by Moonveil."

  Shard snorted. "How would you know that?"

  Nova swallowed. "The Tithe Archives."

  The class buzzed.

  Shard lifted a hand for silence.

  "Fine. What of the other three? Do humor us."

  Nova looked down at her parchment, fingers trembling slightly.

  "Two were," she said softly. "They were... dispersed."

  Shard's voice cut the air. "By who?"

  "Ashbane," she whispered. "They purchased the pack into servitude. The records refer to them as 'labor acquisitions.' There were too many adult names listed in a single season to be natural population growth."

  Shard stepped closer. "And where did you get that?"

  Nova swallowed. "The War-Era Trade Manifests."

  "And what of the last pack?" he asked, voice suddenly careful.

  "The Trial of the Nine."

  Shard crossed his arms, "I am not going to bother to ask how you know that. Yes, The Trial of the Nine remains one of the most controversial executions in the early unification period. Nine high-blood wolf families, accused of inherited madness, corruption, and unsanctioned dark magi. All nine families were bound in silver, collared, and executed within one hour of each other, without trial by council."

  He stopped, tapping a long, ink-stained finger against the lecture board. "Now. The question is — why?"

  The class was silent. Eyes shifted. Pages turned.

  Professor Shard's mouth curled. "Moonveil," he said. "You're not done. Do educate the class."

  Nova swallowed, not enjoying this attention in the slightest.

  "Because they weren't just accused of madness," she answered. "Some believed they practiced dark magic — that might have truth — but later evidence shows they were planning a coup to take Bloodmoon. Bloodmoon struck first and executed the ruling lines. The rest either bent the knee or went rogue."

  Silence stretched.

  "That's... speculative."

  Nova blinked once. "You are correct... But that's why Bloodmoon still enforces strict bans on magic today. It is still recorded in Intra-Council Records. There was also a sealed notation in the binding of the tribunal order."

  He paused. "Those records are lost."

  "Oh? Do elaborate," Shard said, arms folding as though bracing for nonsense.

  Nova's cheeks flushed, but her tone stayed steady. "Both records were said to be burned. But one wasn't. It was only hidden. And the Nine were all connected to Bond Anomalies — it's recorded there as well."

  "Allegedly," she added.

  Someone behind her muttered, "What the hell—?"

  Professor Shard stared at her. "Again, that is not public knowledge. And the Anomaly files are sealed."

  Nova lowered her voice, tone still kind. "Kings seal the things they fear."

  A ripple moved through the room.

  Shard's jaw tightened — ego bruised, authority challenged.

  "But you wouldn't have read that," he said sharply. "Those records are lost. And I highly doubt you, of all people, would know otherwise."

  Nova didn't skip a beat.

  "Fair point," she said lightly — not defensive, not wounded, just... agreeable in a way that knocked the wind out of his authority.

  A few students snorted. Someone actually laughed.

  Shard blinked, thrown off-balance.

  Nova gave him a warm, earnest smile. The kind that would've disarmed a better man.

  He didn't return it

  Instead, with a stiff inhale, he turned back to the board and continued the lecture — a touch faster than before, as though trying to outrun the fact he had just been outmaneuvered by a girl who apologized on instinct.

  From the stone corridor above, Fin and Jax walked past the classroom's high arched windows. Voices drifted upward — soft at first, then clear.

  They both stopped mid-stride.

  It wasn't Shard's clipped condescension that froze them.

  It was her.

  Nova.

  Calm. Precise in a way no omega had any business being... especially not one who'd spent years locked in a tower.

  Finric's jaw flexed once, sharp as a blade being tested for balance. His eyes narrowed, tracking her voice through the wall as if he could see straight through stone.

  Jax listened too, arms folding, a slow grin spreading across his face.

  "Well... she's not boring."

  Nova's voice floated up again. Soft. Warm. Devastating.

  "Fair point."

  A ripple of laughter followed.

  Jax snorted under his breath. "She just handled Shard. SHARD. The man once made a kid cry for breathing too loudly."

  Fin's stare didn't shift from the window.

  "She shouldn't know any of that."

  "Yes, if she was an omega." Jax exhaled. "Because she's not."