CHAPTER 67: _ AWAKENING CEREMONY (VERDICT)

The air is heavy with confusion, excitement, and the sharp scent of metal dust that still hangs around the broken striker machine. Sparks from the shattered mechanism glint faintly on the polished floor of the hall like little stars, mocking the silence that has suddenly fallen. Everyone is still staring at Heidi... small, gorgeous, trembling Heidi who looks as though she might faint right then and there if someone so much as sneezes.

Opinions and chants are flying around following Daphne’s protest. Amias rubs his temple, wondering when one of the management would talk already and free Heidi—and maybe him and everyone else from this suspense when predictably—comes the bark.

"ORDER! I WILL HAVE ORDER!"

Master Corvin storms onto the stage like a general preparing to face a war that only he seems to think is happening. He slams his staff onto the wooden floorboards so hard that the sound ricochets through the hall. A few of the younger omegas in the crowd jump in fright.

"If I hear so much as a cough out of anyone," he growls, eyes bulging in that way Amias has always found uncomfortably amphibian, "I will personally see to it that you polish the boys’ bathroom tiles with your toothbrushes until the grout gleams like the moon itself!"

A ripple of stifled laughter rolls through the room. Amias can feel it vibrating in his own chest, though he doesn’t let it out. He knows from experience how ridiculous Master Corvin’s punishments can get. Once, he threatened to make a student lick every window clean if he didn’t stop chewing gum. Another time, it was writing "I will not slouch" ten thousand times on enchanted paper that refused to accept ink unless the handwriting was perfect. Absurd. That was Corvin.

In the corner of his mind, Vark lets out a low snort of amusement. "Toothbrush tiles? I like him. He has the right energy for someone protecting our little goddess."

Amias nearly rolls his eyes. "She’s not our goddess, Vark. And you sound ridiculous."

At least, not yet. He still needs her to prove herself and so far, she hasn’t proved shit.

"Ridiculous? Please. She shattered an enchanted striker with a pathetic excuse for a swing. If that’s not divine intervention—or mate energy, I’ll shave my fur."

On stage, Master Corvin continues to puff his chest, staff raised, as though he alone has subdued the hall with his mighty threats. When the quiet is finally thick enough to satisfy him, he gives a single sharp nod.

"That’s better. No more chaos. Or so help me, I’ll make every last one of you scrub the courtyard with a spoon."

The headmaster clears his throat then, stepping forward with the calm dignity of someone who has just aged ten years in ten minutes. He raises his hands, commanding silence—not that there is much left to silence.

"What happened here," Halric begins, "is an impossibility."

Amias is not a Halric fan since the man is as corrupt as they get, but he’s got to agree with him on this one.

A ripple passes through the hall following the man’s declaration. He gestures toward the mangled striker machine, its gears scattered like broken bones, and casing split wide open. "This machine has stood for decades, tested against the strength of hundreds of wolves; students, warriors, even Alphas. Never once has it broken. For it to fall today..." He lets the silence linger like a blade over all their throats. "...it can only mean two things. Either this student," his hand moves toward Heidi, who is now visibly shaking on the stage, "is something more than what she appears. Or the machine itself has become faulty."

He turns back, eyes narrowing in calculation. "But no wolf can possess the strength to destroy this striker machine unaided. Magical power is required. Unless...unless she was a witch before she ever received the wolf gift."

Gasps scatter across the crowd like sparks on dry grass. Heidi’s knees wobble slightly, her eyes widening. She shakes her head immediately, stammering, "No! No, I’m not—I’ve never..." she can’t finish.

The headmaster’s gaze sharpens, pinning her to the spot. "Then what has happened here is impossible."

Vark growls in Amias’s mind. "Impossible, my tail. Did he not see it with his own two eyes? You can’t explain away raw power by calling it ’impossible.’"

But Amias keeps still, expression schooled, though his heart stirs uneasily.

The headmaster breathes out through his nose and turns back to the audience. "The striker machine is destroyed. There will be no retake for this student. However, the school will reach out to the sorcerers’ guild to negotiate for another machine. Until then, this disruption will not stop the ceremony. There are many more who must be tested."

A murmur of assent rises. The headmaster’s eyes flick over the crowd, then return to Heidi, who is pale as paper under the lights. "For now, this girl will proceed with the others into the labyrinth tomorrow. If she survives, perhaps it will shed light on what has transpired."

A thunderous cheer rises from the back in half agreement, and half bloodlust.

What the hell?! Amias’s blood runs cold. The labyrinth? Is Halric fucking Varrow must be out of his bloody mind right now.

Amias’s fingers tighten against the armrest of his chair. He knows what that means—everyone knows. The labyrinth isn’t a test so much as a gauntlet of nightmares. Wolves stronger than Heidi, wolves trained their whole lives, have not come out of it alive. It is uncalled for that they are sending these newbies in there, but since they made it fair by confirming if they were strong enough to go in there first, that’s much better than sending a girl whose ability status remains unconfirmed.

And yet, here they are, ready to toss her in like she’s nothing more than a pawn for them to study.

Vark growls harder now. "They don’t understand her power, so they want to gamble her life on it. If she is ours, Amias, if she is the one..."

"She’s not," Amias cuts him off sharply, though his chest aches. "She can’t be."

"Then why is your pulse racing? Why are you gripping the chair like it’s the only thing keeping you from leaping onto that stage?"

He doesn’t answer. He can’t because that pretty little thing in green hasn’t crossed the condition he’s given her even though she doesn’t know it yet. It’s not like he wants to hoodwink himself about his desires for her as he deceives others, but he fears he might lose his self-control and do something he regrets if he lets himself think she’s already his.

She’s not anyway. Darien, Grayson, and Morgan—those three happen to own her too. Argh, the thought of it makes Amias’s chest constrict. His ears are ringing, eyes reddening like a pair of angry spotlights.

He has to share her with his brothers no less.

This pain—this ache, he needs somewhere to dislodge it. Not like he can start scraping his own flesh when he’s seated right here with the whole school.

And before he knows it, his body betrays him. He’s on his feet and his voice echoes before his mind even gives permission.

"That doesn’t make sense."