Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
The summons came two days later.
I was in the east wing with Gray when Rae found me. She stood in the doorway, her face carefully neutral, but I could see the tension in her shoulders.
"Emergency council session," she said. "They want you there in an hour."
"Me specifically?"
"You, Cole, Neal, and anyone else involved in—" She paused, choosing her words. "The incident."
The incident. That's what they were calling it now. Not the heat. Not the bonding. The incident.
"Twilson?" I asked.
"He demanded the session, actually." Rae's jaw tightened. "He's been building his case since you got back. Interviewing staff. Collecting statements. He's going to try to use this against you."
I'd known it was coming. We all had. But hearing it confirmed still sent ice through my veins.
"What's his angle?"
"I don't know exactly. But whatever it is, he's been preparing for days." She met my eyes. "Be careful, Lumi. Twilson is smart. He won't attack directly—he'll twist things, make you look like the threat instead of the solution."
"I'm not afraid of him."
"You should be." Her voice softened. "Not because he's right, but because he's powerful. And power doesn't need to be right to be dangerous."
The council chamber was in the administration building.
The seats were already filling when we arrived. Council members I didn't recognize. Staff from the Healing Center. Professors from the Academy. Tomlinson was there, seated at the table, his expression unreadable. Silas sat beside Rae's empty chair, his pale eyes tracking everything.
And at the center of it all, standing like he owned the room, was Twilson.
He looked immaculate. Gray suit perfectly pressed. Silver hair swept back from his face. Those pale eyes scanning the chamber with cold satisfaction. When they landed on me, something flickered in their depths.
Triumph.
He thought he'd already won.
My pack flanked me as we entered. Cole on my right, James on my left. Stone and Cal behind us. Neal brought up the rear, his arms full of files and tablets—every piece of data he'd collected over the past months.
The whispers started immediately.
I heard fragments as we made our way to our seats. "—the rings around their eyes—" "—is that really—" "—five of them, can you imagine—"
Let them whisper. Let them stare at the marks on my neck and the men who wore my bonds in their eyes. I had nothing to hide.
The Council Chair, Dr. Derrow, called the session to order.
"We're here at Headmaster Twilson's request," she said, her voice carrying through the chamber. "He's raised concerns about recent events at the Healing Center and requested a formal hearing. Headmaster, the floor is yours."
Twilson stepped into the center of the room.
"Thank you." His voice was smooth. Practiced. "I'll try to be brief, though the severity of the situation demands thoroughness."
He pressed a button on the small remote in his hand. A screen behind him flickered to life, showing the Healing Center's exterior.
"Three days ago, an uncontrolled biological event occurred on Academy grounds. An event that put students, staff, and the broader community at significant risk."
He clicked to the next image. Security footage of me being ushered into Cole's cabin.
"Miss Orlav experienced what I'm told is called a 'heat.' A violent physiological episode that lasted multiple days and required the presence of five male wolves to—" He paused, letting the implication hang. "—manage."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber.
"During this event, our security protocols were compromised.
" Another click. Footage of Cole entering the Healing Center's east wing.
"Mr. Len Cole, our security consultant—the man we trusted to protect this institution—removed our most dangerous feral patient from containment and transported him to Miss Orlav's location. "
The image changed to Stone. File photos from his worst days—feral, wild-eyed, barely human.
"This is the wolf Mr. Cole released. A feral so unstable he hospitalized two staff members just weeks ago. A wolf who cannot reliably hold human form. A wolf who, according to our own records, poses an extreme risk to anyone in his vicinity."
Stone went rigid beside me. I reached back without looking, found his hand, squeezed.
"Mr. Cole brought this wolf directly to Miss Orlav during her heat." Twilson's voice dripped with false concern. "An uncontrolled Omega in the grip of biological frenzy, combined with our most dangerous feral. Everyone in a five-mile radius was at risk."
"That's not what happened," Cole said, his voice tight.
"Mr. Cole, you'll have your chance to speak." Twilson didn't even look at him. "For now, I'm presenting the facts."
He clicked through more images. Charts showing feral activity during my heat—but twisted, the spikes highlighted instead of the drops. Staff statements expressing concern. Security logs showing Cole's movements.
"The pattern is clear," Twilson concluded.
"Miss Orlav's presence at the Healing Center has not stabilized our feral population—it has destabilized them.
Her heat triggered widespread agitation.
Her bond with dangerous patients has compromised our security protocols.
And our own security consultant has been so thoroughly compromised by his.
.. connection to her... that he cannot be trusted to protect this institution. "
He turned to face the council directly.
"I am formally requesting that Miss Orlav be removed from the feral program immediately. That the ferals currently housed at the Healing Center be relocated to a secure facility. And that a full investigation be launched into the security failures that allowed this situation to develop."
The chamber erupted.
Voices overlapped—some agreeing with Twilson, others protesting. I saw council members leaning toward each other, whispering urgently. The noise built until Derrow had to bang her gavel three times to restore order.
"The council will hear responses," she said. "Doctor, I understand you have data to present?"
Neal stood. He looked calm, but I could feel his nerves through the bond—a faint tremor of anxiety beneath his professional exterior.
"Thank you." He moved to the center of the room, tablet in hand. "Headmaster Twilson's presentation was... creative. But it omitted several crucial facts."
He pulled up his own display. The same timeline, but with different data highlighted.
"During Miss Orlav's heat, feral stability didn't decline—it improved. Dramatically." He pointed to the chart. "Cortisol levels across all patients dropped an average of forty percent. Shift stability improved by sixty percent. Aggressive incidents fell to zero."
He clicked to the next slide. Gray's file.
"This patient—designated Gray—has been non-verbal since his arrival.
During Miss Orlav's heat, he spoke his first complete sentence in months.
He asked where she was. He demonstrated concern for her wellbeing.
" Neal looked around the chamber. "This is not destabilization.
This is the most significant improvement we've seen in any feral patient since the program began. "
"Improvement triggered by an uncontrolled biological event," Twilson interjected. "An event that could have gone very differently."
"But it didn't." Neal's voice was firm. "The heat completed normally. No one was harmed. And the ferals are measurably better than they were before."
"This time." Twilson's pale eyes narrowed. "What about next time? What happens when Miss Orlav's biology triggers another event? When the ferals she's supposedly 'stabilizing' respond to her pheromones in ways we can't predict?"
"The bonds are complete now," Cole said, standing. "The heat won't recur the same way. The biological imperative has been satisfied."
"And we're supposed to take your word for that?" Twilson's smile was cold. "The word of a man so compromised by his connection to Miss Orlav that he broke a dangerous feral out of containment to bring to her bed?"
"I brought Stone to her because she needed him." Cole's voice was hard. "Because the heat wouldn't break without all her mates present. Because leaving him behind would have caused more harm than including him."
"You made that decision unilaterally. Without consulting security protocols.
Without informing the council." Twilson spread his hands.
"This is exactly the kind of compromised judgment I'm talking about.
Miss Orlav's influence extends to everyone around her.
It clouds their thinking. Makes them prioritize her needs over institutional safety. "
"That's not influence—that's pack." James was on his feet now, his whole body vibrating with anger. "That's what mates do. They take care of each other."
"At the expense of everyone else?"
"No one was harmed—"
"This time!" Twilson's voice rose, finally cracking his smooth facade. "But what about next time? And the time after that? How many risks do we take before something goes catastrophically wrong?"
"The data shows—" Neal started.
"The data shows what you want it to show." Twilson cut him off. "You're bonded to her. All of you. Your judgment is compromised. Your objectivity is gone. You'll say anything to protect her."
"And you'll say anything to destroy her." Tomlinson's voice cut through the chaos.
The room went quiet.
The professor stood slowly, deliberately. He'd been silent throughout the proceedings, watching with those sharp eyes that missed nothing. Now he stepped into the center of the room, positioning himself between Twilson and the rest of us.
"You've presented a compelling case, Headmaster. Lots of scary footage. Alarming statistics. Dire warnings about what could happen." He tilted his head. "But you've left out one crucial detail."
"And what's that?"
"Why you're really here."
Twilson's expression flickered. "I'm here because the safety of Frosthaven Academy—"