Chapter 130 Verdict
Author's POV
Two days of healing.
Bandage removed from her head, revealing a healing scar at her temple. Crutches abandoned this morning, though she still limps slightly when she walks. The cast on her leg is lighter now, allowing more mobility.
Progress. Physical progress, at least.
But as Malia approaches the administrative building, dread sits heavy in her stomach.
The disciplinary hearing. The one she's been dreading since the email arrived.
The one that will decide if she still has a future at Mooncrest.
The hallway to Principal Ashford's office feels impossibly long. Each step echoing. Each breath too loud.
She reaches the massive oak door. Raises her hand. Knocks twice.
"Come in."
The office is exactly as she remembers—imposing, stadium-sized, lined with portraits of ancient alphas and wolf giants watching from the walls.
But today, it's more crowded.
Principal Ashford sits behind his desk, expression carved from stone. Beside him, three other administrators she recognizes from campus. The disciplinary committee.
All of them watching her with varying degrees of judgment and concern.
"Miss Reeves." Ashford gestures to the chair positioned in front of the desk. "Please, sit."
She does. Hands clasped tight in her lap to hide their shaking.
"Thank you for coming," he continues, as if she had a choice. "I'm sure you know why you're here."
She nods. Can't speak past the lump in her throat.
"The incident at Silverwood Preserve has raised serious concerns." He folds his hands on the desk. "Concerns about campus safety. About your ability to control your abilities. About whether Mooncrest is the appropriate environment for someone with your... particular challenges."
The words land like blows.
One of the committee members—a stern-faced woman with graying hair—leans forward. "We've reviewed the video evidence extensively. The attack on Mr. Thorne was unprovoked and violent. Regardless of circumstances, that level of aggression cannot be tolerated."
"It wasn't—" Malia starts. "I wasn't in control. The preserve's magic, it forced a transformation that shouldn't be possible. I didn't mean to hurt him."
"Intent is immaterial when the result is a fellow student hospitalized with serious injuries." Another committee member, an older man with sharp eyes. "You represent a danger to the student body."
"The preserve amplified her abilities beyond normal parameters," Ashford says, though his tone offers no comfort. "However, that raises an equally concerning question—why did it affect you so dramatically when other students experienced no such loss of control?"
Because I'm not what you think I am, Malia thinks. Because there's something in my bloodline that responds to ancient magic in ways hybrid genetics can't explain.
But she can't say that. Doesn't even fully understand it herself.
"I don't know," she whispers instead.
The committee exchanges looks. Significant. Final.
Ashford pulls a letter from his desk drawer. Official letterhead. Formal seal.
"Miss Reeves, this committee has deliberated extensively on your case. We've considered your academic record, your previous disciplinary probation, the multiple incidents throughout this semester, and the severity of what occurred at Silverwood Preserve."
He slides the letter across the desk.
"Please read this."
Her hands shake as she picks it up. Unfolds it.
The words swim before her eyes. Official language. Formal declarations.
But certain phrases stand out. Burn into her vision.
—demonstrated pattern of instability—
—danger to campus community—
—effective immediately—
—expulsion from Mooncrest College—
Expulsion.
The word hits like a physical blow.
"No—" The whisper escapes before she can stop it. "Please, I—"
"The decision is final," the stern woman says. Not unkindly, but firmly. "You have until tomorrow to vacate campus housing. Your scholarship has been revoked. Your enrollment terminated."
"But I—" Tears blur her vision. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I was trying to control it, trying to stop—"
"We understand this is difficult," Ashford says. His expression hasn't changed. Still carved stone. "But the safety of our student body must take precedence. You represent a risk we cannot accept."
"Please." The word comes out broken. Desperate. "Please, this school is—it's everything. My scholarship, my future, my—" She stops. Can't finish. Can't articulate what Mooncrest represents. What losing it means.
The committee remains unmoved. Faces set. Decision made.
"I'm sorry, Miss Reeves," Ashford says, and perhaps there's a hint of genuine regret in his voice. "But this is not negotiable. You have until tomorrow evening to remove your belongings from campus. Campus security will escort you if necessary."
Tomorrow evening. Less than twenty-four hours.
To pack up her life. To say goodbye to the only place she's ever felt like she belonged—however briefly, however imperfectly.
To lose everything.
Again.
"Is there anything else you wish to say?" The sharp-eyed man asks.
She shakes her head. What is there to say? What argument could possibly change minds already made up?
The video showed them a monster. They've decided she's a monster. Nothing she says will alter that verdict.
"Then you're dismissed," Ashford says. "We wish you the best in your future endeavors."
Empty words. Meaningless platitudes.
She stands on shaking legs. Clutches the expulsion letter in numb fingers. Walks to the door on autopilot.
Her hand is on the handle when Ashford speaks again.
"Miss Reeves. For what it's worth—I hope you find somewhere you can safely develop your abilities. Under proper supervision. Before someone gets seriously hurt."
She doesn't respond. Can't. Just opens the door and steps into the hallway.
The door closes behind her with a sound like a coffin lid.
She stands there. Staring at the expulsion letter. At the official seal that marks the end of everything.
Students pass in the hallway. Some glance at her curiously. Others deliberately look away, having seen the video, having decided she's dangerous.
None of them know. None of them understand.
This was her last chance. Her final opportunity to prove she belonged somewhere. To build a future that wasn't defined by being other, by being wrong, by being a mistake.
And she failed.
Her phone is in her pocket. She pulls it out with shaking hands.
Scrolls to Aiden's contact. Presses call.
One ring. He answers immediately.
"Hey, what's up? How did it go?"
His voice is bright. Hopeful. Expecting good news or at least neutral news.
Not this.
She tries to speak. Can't. The words stick in her throat, tangled with tears.
"Malia?" Concern bleeds into his tone. "Baby, what happened?"
She sniffs. Forces the words out past the lump choking her.
"I'm expelled," she says, her voice breaking completely.
And the world seem to tilt sideways...