The bell rang, and the classroom slowly filled with noise.
Mark sat in his seat, posture relaxed on the surface, mind elsewhere.
The seat beside him stayed empty.
Simon dropped into his chair and glanced sideways almost immediately. He didn't joke. Didn't smirk.
"Where's Iris?"
Mark didn't look up. "She's not coming today."
Simon frowned. "What happened? Is she okay?"
"She's fine," Mark said calmly. "Shaken, but fine. She's staying at her grandparents' place for a bit. Just… needs time to process what happened."
Simon's expression didn't ease. If anything, it tightened.
Mark noticed and added, "It's normal. After a first transformation, most wolves want to be alone for a while. The world feels loud."
Simon leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "Yeah," he muttered. "Guess that makes sense."
The door opened again.
Clara walked in.
Mark and Simon both looked up at the same time.
She didn't scan the room. Didn't hesitate. Just walked straight down the aisle and took the seat behind Mark, setting her bag down neatly.
Simon twisted in his chair. "Hey. You okay?"
"I'm fine," Clara said. Then, almost immediately, "How's Iris?"
Mark exhaled. "Better than I was my first time. I didn't sleep for three days. I cried for half of them."
That earned a small, surprised look from Clara.
"…Good," she said. "I'm glad."
There was a pause.
Then Clara leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping just enough that only Mark could hear.
"There's something I need to talk to you about."
Mark turned in his seat. "What is it?"
She met his eyes. No fear. No hesitation.
"Can you arrange a meeting with the All Alpha?"
Mark blinked. "What?"
"Soon," Clara added. "As soon as possible."
"Why?" Mark asked quietly.
Clara didn't look around. Didn't lower her voice further.
"I think it's time," she said, simply, "that the witches stop hiding and come to the light."
Mark stared at her.
The bell rang again.
Mark leaned back in his chair, rubbing his jaw.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "That's… convenient timing. Harvey's already onto me."
Simon snapped his head toward him. "Onto you how?"
"He's asking questions," Mark replied. "The kind that don't come from curiosity."
Simon frowned. "Okay, but why now?" he asked, turning to Clara. "Why push this out in the open all of a sudden?"
Clara didn't hesitate.
"Because the witches arrived late last night," she said. "When we reached the underground facility, there were only corpses left."
Mark stiffened. "Only corpses?"
"They confirmed a demon summoning," Clara continued. "Not a theory. Not residue. A confirmed summoning. And the ones you fought?" She shook her head. "They weren't even a fraction of the dark witches operating there."
Mark's eyes narrowed.
"So what—you're saying this doesn't end here?"
"I'm saying they're not stopping," Clara replied flatly. "Not after crossing that line."
Mark exhaled slowly. "But aren't they all dead? The ones at the site?"
"No," Clara said. "Most of them were never there to begin with."
Simon raised a hand. "Okay. Dark witches. Noted. New nightmare unlocked."
Mark stared at his desk for a moment, then spoke.
"I can't arrange a meeting with the All Alpha directly."
Clara watched him carefully.
"But," Mark added, "I can arrange a meeting with someone who can arrange that meeting."
Simon's expression finally eased. "Good. Do that."
Then he smirked, just slightly.
"And for the record—my brother knows about all this now."
Mark looked at him.
Simon shrugged. "Which means we can use his car by asking like normal people."
A pause.
"…Without making me steal it again."
The hallway was quieter than usual, most students already headed toward cafeteria for lunch.
Mark stopped in front of the principal's office. Clara stood beside him, hands in her coat pockets, calm in a way that made people uncomfortable without knowing why.
Mark knocked.
The door opened a moment later.
Jennifer Lannister looked at them over the rim of her glasses.
"Yes?"
"We need to see Mr. Cromvell," Mark said.
She glanced at her watch. "He's busy."
"I know," Mark replied. "But please tell him I'm here to answer the questions he's been asking."
That made her pause.
"…Wait here."
She stepped aside, letting them in, and motioned toward the small waiting area. Clara sat down without a word.
Jennifer picked up the landline and dialed.
"Sir, I'm sorry to interrupt," she said carefully, "but Mark Swinton from Class 1-B High is here. He says he's here to answer your questions."
A pause.
"Yes, sir. He's with someone—Clara Ashcroft from same class."
Another pause.
"…Understood."
She hung up and looked at them.
"Mark," she said, "you can go in. Miss Ashcroft, you'll stay here."
Mark nodded and walked past her into the inner office.
Inside Harvy Cromvell's Office
Harvy Cromvell was standing by his desk, reviewing documents. He didn't look up immediately.
"Sit," he said. "And make this quick."
Mark sat.
Harvy finally looked at him. "You said you were here to answer my questions."
"Yes."
"Then start talking."
Mark didn't rush it.
"Do you remember the banquet," he said, "where we discussed the bodies found around the city? The ones with weird markings carved into them?"
Harvy's jaw tightened. "I remember."
"Two days ago," Mark continued, "I found somewhat similar markings or symbols carved on a bench here at school."
Harvy's eyes sharpened. "By who?"
"The girl outside," Mark said. "Clara."
Harvy leaned forward. "Then why isn't she in handcuffs?"
"Because she isn't responsible," Mark replied immediately. "And before you assume otherwise—you should know she's not one of them."
Harvy studied him. "You're being vague."
"I'm trying to," Mark said. "Because once I say this, there's no pretending I didn't."
Harvy folded his arms. "Just Say it."
Mark exhaled once.
"She's a witch."
The word landed flat. Heavy.
Harvy stared at him. "…Excuse me?"
"She practices magic," Mark said. "Real magic. And last night, I fought the people behind the murders and kidnappings. They weren't human. They were witches too but not like clara they were different."
Harvy scoffed—then stopped.
His eyes drifted to the bandages visible beneath Mark's collar.
"You're still injured," Harvy said slowly. "why aren't you healing."
"Yes exactly they're not healing," Mark replied. " I think wounds caused by magic don't heal instantly."
Silence stretched between them.
"…Bring her in," Harvy finally said.
Clara stepped into the office and stopped in front of the desk.
Harvy didn't offer her a seat.
"So," he said, studying her, "you're a witch."
"Yes," Clara answered calmly.
"And you expect me to believe," Harvy continued, "that you're not behind any of this."
"You don't have to believe me," Clara said. "You just have to listen."
Harvy raised an eyebrow. "Then talk."
"There are witches who draw power from nature," she said. "Balance. Life. Order. And then there are those who take shortcuts—sacrifice, chaos, stolen souls."
She met his eyes.
"I hunt the second kind."
Harvy's expression darkened. "And why are you telling me this?"
"Because they crossed a line last night," Clara replied. "A demon was summoned. Not fully—but enough."
That made him shift.
"I'm not here to explain everything," she continued. "I'm here to deliver a message."
She paused deliberately.
"From the Aquarius Coven."
Harvy's fingers tightened against the desk.
"We formally request a meeting," Clara said, "with the All Alpha… and the Eight Royal Wolf Families."
The room went still.