Chapter 131 Ultimatum
Rowan's POV
"Wait in the library," Aiden says into the phone, already moving. "We'll be there in ten minutes."
He hangs up and looks at me and Cian. His face is white. Stricken.
"She's expelled," he says. Flat. Like the words don't make sense even as he's saying them. "They fucking expelled her."
The fury that floods through me is instant and absolute.
"No." The word comes out hard. Final. "No, they don't get to do this."
"The letter's already issued," Aiden says, already heading for the door. "It's done."
"Nothing's done until we say it's done." I grab my jacket, my phone. "Move. Now."
We're running within seconds. Cian texts July and Freddy as we go. Meet us. Library. Emergency.
The campus blurs past. Students staring as three Thorne brothers sprint across the quad like something's on fire.
Something is on fire. Everything is on fire.
They expelled her. Actually expelled her.
For defending herself. For losing control of a transformation that never should have been forced. For being the victim of Lydia's calculated setup.
They expelled her and let Lydia walk free.
The injustice of it burns in my chest like acid.
We burst into the library. The librarian starts to shush us but one look at our faces and she goes quiet.
Malia's in the back corner. Alone. Hunched over with her arms wrapped around herself in that defensive position I've seen too many times.
The expulsion letter sits on the table in front of her.
Aiden reaches her first. She looks up and the devastation on her face—
It breaks something in me.
She launches herself into his arms, sobbing. Not the quiet, controlled crying I've seen before. This is raw. Broken. The sound of someone who has nothing left.
"I'm so sorry," she's saying between sobs. "I'm so sorry, I tried, I couldn't—they wouldn't listen—"
"Shh." Aiden holds her tight, one hand in her hair, face pressed to the top of her head. "It's okay. We'll fix this. We'll—"
"You can't fix this." Her voice is muffled against his chest. "It's done. I have to leave by tomorrow. They're—they're kicking me out."
July and Freddy arrive, both breathless. July takes one look at Malia and her face crumples.
"Oh no. No, they didn't—"
I pick up the letter. Read it with mounting rage.
—pattern of violent instability—
—risk to campus safety—
—immediate termination of enrollment—
—scholarship revoked—
—vacate premises within 24 hours—
"This is bullshit." I throw the letter back on the table. "Complete and utter bullshit. They have video of you being attacked by territorial magic. They have context. They have—"
"They have video of me slashing Aiden across the chest," Malia says, pulling back from his arms enough to wipe her face. "That's all they care about. That's all anyone cares about."
"Aiden's not pressing charges," Cian says quietly. "He gave a statement saying it was an accident. That you weren't in control."
"Doesn't matter." Malia's voice is hollow. "The disciplinary committee decided I'm too dangerous. That I can't be trusted to control my abilities. That Mooncrest isn't—" Her voice breaks. "—isn't the right place for me."
"Because Lydia fed them exactly what they wanted to see," I bite out. "Edited footage. Manipulated narrative. No context about what led to it."
"And now she's won." Malia sinks back into her chair. "She's wanted me gone since day one and now—" She gestures at the letter. "Now she got exactly what she wanted."
July moves to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "We'll appeal. We'll fight this. There has to be—"
"The decision is final." Malia's staring at nothing now. "They said it's not negotiable. I have to be off campus by tomorrow evening."
Tomorrow evening. Less than thirty hours.
To pack up her entire life. To leave the only place she's felt like she belonged.
To lose everything because of one person's vendetta.
No.
Fuck no.
"I need to go," I say abruptly.
Everyone looks at me.
"Where?" Aiden asks.
"To end this." I'm already moving. "Once and for all."
"Rowan—" Cian starts.
"Six hours," I tell Malia. "Give me six hours. Don't pack. Don't leave. Just—wait."
"What are you going to do?" Her voice is small. Hopeless.
"Whatever it takes."
I'm out of the library before anyone can stop me. Back across campus. Toward the polished dorm building where legacy students live in comfort and privilege.
Toward Lydia.
The fury in my chest has crystallized into something cold. Calculated. Dangerous.
She thinks she's won. Thinks she's destroyed Malia completely.
She has no idea what's coming.
I take the stairs to the third floor. Don't bother being quiet. Don't care who sees.
Voices ahead. Female laughter.
I round the corner and there they are—Lydia, Beretta, and Dinah. Huddled together near Lydia's door. Celebrating, probably. Toasting their victory.
They see me and the laughter dies.
"Rowan." Lydia's smile is practiced. Perfect. "What a surprise—"
"We need to talk." My voice is ice. "Alone."
"I don't think that's appro—"
"It wasn't a request."
Something in my tone makes her smile falter. She glances at Beretta and Dinah.
"It's fine," she says. Too bright. "Just give us a minute."
They hesitate but move down the hallway. Not far enough to be out of earshot. Probably exactly where Lydia wants them.
Good. Let them hear.
"Look," Lydia starts, "if this is about Malia's expulsion—"
"Cut the shit." I pull out my phone. "I'm done playing games with you."
"I don't know what you—"
I hit play.
Her voice fills the hallway. Crystal clear. Damning.
"I took a test this morning."
"And?"
"I'm pregnant."
Lydia's face goes white.
Beretta and Dinah have frozen. Staring. Shocked.
The recording continues. Harrison's panicked response. Lydia's cold calculation. The conspiracy to cover it up.
I let it play for thirty seconds before stopping.
"That's—" Lydia's composure is cracking. "That's private. You can't—"
"I can and I did." I pocket the phone. "And unless you want this sent to your parents, to the administration, to every social media platform where you've been posting about Malia—you're going to do exactly what I say."
Her jaw works. Behind her, Beretta and Dinah look shell-shocked. Their perfect, untouchable Lydia—pregnant by a professor. Scandalous. Career-ending for Harrison. Reputation-destroying for her.
"What do you want?" Lydia's voice is tight.
"You're going to Principal Ashford's office. Right now. And you're going to tell him the truth."
"The truth about what?"
"Everything." I step closer. "That you deliberately led Malia into restricted territory. That you set her up. That the video was edited to remove context. That you've been running a campaign to destroy her since day one."
"I'm not—"
"Yes, you are." My voice drops. Dangerous. "Because if you don't, this recording goes public. Your parents find out. The administration finds out. Harrison loses his job. You lose your reputation. Everything you've worked for—gone."
"You wouldn't." But there's uncertainty in her voice now.
"Try me." I hold her gaze. "I've watched you destroy someone I care about for months. Watched you manipulate and scheme and lie. I am done being nice. I am done playing by rules you've never followed. You have six hours to go to Ashford and tell the truth. Or I release this recording and let the consequences fall where they may."
"That's blackmail—"
"That's leverage." I correct. "Learn the difference. Six hours, Lydia. Starting now."
I turn to leave.
"Wait—" She grabs my arm. I look down at her hand, then up at her face. She lets go immediately. "Please. You can't—my parents will kill me. My father will—"
"Then you should have thought of that before you got pregnant by a professor." No sympathy in my voice. None. "Before you orchestrated Malia's expulsion. Before you hurt people for sport."
"I'll do it." The words come out strangled. "I'll—I'll talk to Ashford. But you have to delete the recording. Promise me you'll delete it."
"After Malia's expulsion is reversed. After you've made a public statement admitting the video was manipulated. After you've cleaned up the mess you made." I pull out my phone again. "Until then, I keep this. Insurance."
"How do I know you'll keep your word?"
"You don't." I smile. No warmth in it. "But you don't have a choice. So I guess you'll just have to trust me."
Behind Lydia, Beretta is crying. Dinah looks sick.
Their perfect queen, revealed as exactly what she is. Flawed. Desperate. Human.
"Six hours," I repeat. "Don't make me come find you."
I walk away. Down the stairs. Out of the building.
The fury is still there. Still burning.
But underneath it—satisfaction.
Cold, complete satisfaction.
Because I've never been this angry before. Never felt this protective. Never been willing to burn everything down to save someone.
But for Malia?
For the girl who's been destroyed piece by piece by people who should have protected her?
I'll burn the whole campus to the ground if that's what it takes.
And I won't feel guilty for a second.
Lydia has six hours.
And after what I just saw on her face—the fear, the desperation, the realization that she's finally met someone who won't back down—
I think she'll use them.
I head back toward the library. Toward Malia and the others waiting for answers.
Toward the beginning of the end of Lydia's reign of terror.
Six hours. Then we find out if threats and leverage are enough.
If truth can actually win against calculated lies.
If Malia gets to stay.
Six hours and I've never been more ready to fight.