Chapter 174: Malia’s Arrival

Author's POV

She was coming. They were all coming.

The grand, historic fortress of the academy had completely collapsed into a state of absolute, unmitigated disorganization.

The crimson warning lights embedded in the stone arches flashed like bleeding wounds against the snow, their rhythmic glare illuminating the utter chaos below.

Then, the front gates violently detonated.

Through the thick, swirling vortex of the mountain storm, the heavy steel-reinforced gates of the academy were forcibly thrown open as a fleet of seven slick, heavily armored black vehicles tore through the entrance.

The engines roared like apex predators, their specialized winter tires screeching violently against the sheets of ice and gravel as the entourage sped into the main courtyard in a flawless, aggressive tactical formation.

The door of the lead armored car flew open. A massive bodyguard clad in sleek, high-tier black tactical gear jumped out into the freezing wind and pulling the rear passenger door of the center vehicle wide open.

Malia stepped out onto the frozen ground.

She looked like an empress preparing for an execution.

She was striking, exceptionally tall, and radiated a lethal, unyielding power that commanded absolute submission from every lower-tier wolf in the vicinity. The ambient freezing temperature of the storm seemed to actively recede around her, replaced by the scorching, dangerous heat of a mother whose child was in mortal peril.

Her long, vibrant auburn hair was secured in a tight, flawless ponytail that whipped against the collar of her dark, heavy leather trench coat.

The coat itself bore the faint, glowing runes of a high-noble bloodline, shimmering with a dangerous golden luminescence that grew brighter with every step she took.

Her eyes, burning with a volatile, terrifying mixture of maternal terror and unadulterated fury, scanned the chaotic courtyard with the precision of a seasoned hunter.

There was no hesitation in her stride, no acknowledgment of the academy’s sovereign rules. She looked through the vanguard soldiers as if they were nothing more than smoke.

Right behind her, emerging from the opposite side of the vehicle, was Aiden.

Massive, broad-shouldered, and radiating a matching, catastrophic Alpha frequency, Kathy's father stood shoulder-to-shoulder with his wife, his jaw locked in a dangerous, rigid line.

If Malia’s power was a burning wildfire, Aiden’s was a crushing, tectonic mountain. His presence solidified the suffocating weight in the air, his dark eyes flashing with a predatory promise of absolute ruin for anything that dared stand between them and their daughter.

The elite bodyguards swarmed around them in a tight, impenetrable perimeter, their weapons drawn, completely ignoring the academy guards.

They moved as a single, lethal machine, their heavy armor clanking rhythmically, their eyes scanning the high ledges for any sign of the shadow entity.

Malia didn't speak to the enforcers. She didn't ask for permission. She simply marched straight toward the grand administrative tower, her heavy boots crunching rhythmically over the ice, her entourage moving like a localized hurricane behind her.

The crowd of panicked students and vanguard soldiers parted instantly before her advance, completely terrified of the raw, protective rage rolling off her in visible, golden waves.

They didn't use the grand elevator. Malia and her unit stormed up the marble staircases of the administrative block, her guards systematically taking over every single security checkpoint they passed.

Academy enforcers were gently but firmly shoved flat against the walls, their heads bowing in respect.

At the top of the tower, the heavy mahogany double doors of the Principal's executive office didn't just swing open—they were violently slammed backward against the stone walls as Malia burst into the room.

Principal Wolffur’s office was instantly swarmed by her tactical guards, who took up defensive positions in every corner of the room, their eyes locked on the doors and windows.

The heavy, sterile atmosphere of the office was completely obliterated, replaced by the crushing weight of Malia’s personal aura.

There was absolutely no room for greetings. No protocols were observed. No pleasantries were exchanged.

Malia marched straight up to the massive oak desk, slamming both of her leather-gloved hands down onto the dark wood.

She leaned forward, her burning eyes drilling straight into the silver-streaked gray eyes of the Principal.

"Where is my daughter?" Malia demanded, her voice dropping into a low, lethal vibration that made the glass communication crystals floating around the desk rattle aggressively. "Where is Kathy?"

Principal Wolffur slowly rose from his chair, his hands flat on his desk as he absorbed the sheer magnitude of her fury.

He knew better than to try and pull rank on a mother whose child was actively being targeted by a first-era god.

"Malia, please calm down," Wolffur said, trying to inject a steady, authoritative calm into the suffocating room. "We have initiated a Class-Zero lockdown. The entity has split her frequency, but Kathy herself is safe. She is resting in the secure medical suite downstairs. The extraction protocols are being prepared as we speak."

"Resting?" Malia spat the word out like venom, her auburn ponytail tossing as she shook her head in sheer disbelief. "You think a first-era rogue demon allows its host to rest, Wolffur? I will have you stripped if anything happens to my child! I left her in your care and this is what I get?!”

Before Wolffur could defend his tactical decisions, the heavy mahogany doors of the office burst open once more.

The defensive perimeter of Malia's guards shifted instantly, their weapons raising in unison, but they lowered them the moment the new arrivals crossed the threshold.

Two massive, muscular men—built like brick walls and sharing the exact same lethal, broad-shouldered frame as Aiden—strode into the room.

It was Cian and Rowan, Aiden’s brothers, their presence adding an entirely new layer of physical dominance to the swarmed office.

Right beside them stepped Freddy and July, their faces grim, it was a full reinforcement.

Rowan stepped forward into the center of the Persian rug, his dark eyes taking in the tactical layout of the room.

“We got the message,” Rowan said, his deep baritone cutting clean through the blaring sound of the distant sirens outside. He looked directly at Aiden, then turned his sharp gaze toward the Principal. “What can we do to help?”