Chapter 162 The trial

Chapter 162 The trial

Zara’s POV

The School Council Chamber was colder than I expected.

Not from the weather—but from the way silence pressed against the walls, heavy and unforgiving. The room was carved in semicircle tiers, where the Academy’s teachers sat draped in formal robes, their expressions carved as sharp as statues. Behind them, the insignia of the Academy hung like a banner of judgment: silver and crimson thread stitched into the shape of a wolf’s head engulfed in flame.

And in the center of it all, bound in iron shackles that glinted with wolfsbane dust, stood Atlas.

He looked like a ruined incarnate. His face was bruised, blood dried in the corner of his mouth, yet his stance was unbowed. Defiance clung to him like a second skin. Where most would tremble, Atlas smirked. Where others would hang their heads, he stared down the Council like a wolf daring the hunters to shoot.

I’d thought—after the chaos—that maybe there would be a shred of remorse in him. Something human still left. But the moment his eyes found me in the chamber, those blue eyes lit with venom and amusement, I knew I was wrong.

He tilted his head, lips curling. “Ah. The star of the show arrives.”

Murmurs rippled across the chamber. I kept walking, my boots loud against the stone floor, until I stood with the other students in the lower tier. I could feel Jace’s presence beside me, solid and silent, but he didn’t reach for me. He didn’t speak. He just watched.

I forced myself to meet Atlas’s gaze, though every instinct screamed to look away. His smirk deepened.

“You should’ve been mine,” he drawled, his voice carrying effortlessly in the chamber. “All that power, all that fire… wasted on him.” His chin jerked toward Jace with open disdain. “You’d have been unstoppable by my side, Zara. But you always did like playing the saint, didn’t you?”

My hands curled into fists. Heat rippled under my skin, the faint dragon fire threatening to rise. I swallowed it back. That was what he wanted—for me to lose control.

“Enough,” one of the teachers barked. “You stand accused of endangering your peers, of treason against the Academy, and of murder. This is not a stage for your delusions.”

Atlas laughed. Not the kind that held joy, but the kind that left wounds behind. “Murder,” he echoed, rolling the word like it amused him. “You mean Kai.  Do you know what he said to me before I ended him?” He leaned forward, eyes flashing with cruel delight. “He begged. Begged like a dog. Begged me not to slit his throat.”

Gasps erupted. My stomach churned. Beside me, Jace stiffened, but still he said nothing.

Atlas’s smile sharpened when he saw my reaction. “But you already knew that, didn’t you, Zara? Somewhere deep down, you knew. That’s why you looked at me with fear even when you tried to hide it. You’ve always known I was the wolf hiding under your bed.”

The teachers banged their staffs against the floor, demanding order. But their power, their authority, seemed to slide off Atlas like water. He thrived on this—the spectacle, the outrage. He wasn’t afraid of being judged. He relished it.

I drew in a slow breath, steadying myself. “No, Atlas,” I said, my voice louder than I expected. All eyes snapped to me. “I didn’t fear you because I thought you were the wolf under my bed. I feared you because I knew one day, you’d try to burn down the house just to prove you could.”

The chamber went still. Atlas’s smirk faltered, just for a second, before twisting into something darker.

“Careful,” he hissed, voice dropping to a low snarl. “You’re playing brave now, but deep down, you’re no different from me. You think you’ll be their savior, but one day, they’ll see you for what you are. A monster. Just like me.”

My chest tightened. His words cut too close to fears I hadn’t spoken aloud—that my dragon blood made me dangerous, untamable. That one day, I would hurt the very people I was trying to protect. But I refused to let him see that weakness.

I lifted my chin. “No, Atlas. The difference is I fight my demons. You embrace yours.”

A heavy silence followed. The teachers exchanged glances, whispers running across their tier like sparks across dry leaves.

Finally, Principal Kieran rose from his seat, his presence commanding silence without needing to demand it. His eyes swept the chamber, then landed on Atlas.

“Atlas King,” he intoned, voice deep and unyielding. “You have been found guilty of murder, treason, and endangering the Academy. By the Council’s decree, you are hereby expelled. Stripped of all ties to this institution. Furthermore, charges will be carried to the High Tribunal for the killing of Kai under circumstances of cruelty and malice.”

Gasps echoed. Even some of the teachers shifted uncomfortably—expulsion was rare, but stripping the King heir of his shield was unheard of.

Atlas didn’t flinch. If anything, he laughed again, the sound ringing bitter and triumphant. “You think you’ve won? Expelled me? Stripped me?” He spat on the floor, bloodied saliva staining the stone. “You’ve only freed me. Do you hear me, Zara?” His eyes locked with mine, wild and burning. “This is only the beginning. You’ll see me again. And when you do, you’ll wish you’d chosen differently.”

The guards stepped in, chains rattling as they dragged him back. But even as they pulled him away, his laughter echoed through the chamber, filling every corner, every silence, like smoke that wouldn’t clear.

Students whispered all around me, their fear sharp and raw. For so long, Atlas had charmed them, fooled them into believing he was the rightful Alpha, the Top boy. But today, stripped bare, they saw him for what he truly was. Not a leader. Not a hero. A monster.

And yet, even as his laughter faded down the hall, his words clung to me like thorns.

A monster. Just like me.

I pressed my nails into my palms, grounding myself, forcing air into my lungs. No. I wouldn’t let his poison take root. I wasn’t him. I wasn’t.

Beside me, Jace still hadn’t spoken. But when I finally turned my head, his eyes were on me—steady, fierce, and unwavering. He didn’t need to say anything. In his silence, I felt it: his choice, his loyalty. He wasn’t Atlas. And neither was I.

But gods help me, I knew this wasn’t the end. Atlas was right about one thing. This was only the beginning.