The silence in the Alpha instructors' office felt suffocating. Behind closed doors, three men sat with the weight of an impossible decision pressing down on their shoulders.
Alpha Parker rubbed his temples, exhaustion evident in every line of his face. "Not a single one of them is clean."
Alpha Mateo's laugh held no humor. "Did we expect anything different? Every Alpha in this academy has blood on their hands. The only difference is how well they hide it."
Parker's expression darkened. "This crosses every line we've drawn. This isn't typical pack rivalry or territory disputes. Someone deliberately poisoned another student. They triggered artificial ruts. They orchestrated violence that could have destroyed lives."
