Jeremiah, Griffin, Alaric, Roman, and Elsie were gathered in Principal Jameson's office, making the air inside feel suffocatingly tense. If anyone dropped a lit match in there, it might have erupted in flames given the hostility crackling among them.
None of the alphas were speaking. Each of them stood at their own corner, wearing scowls like armor, positioned as far from one another as the room allowed.
All except Elsie Lancaster, who sat primly in the chair before Jameson's desk, legs crossed, looking unbothered and bored. She alone seemed immune to the atmosphere, her expression far too composed for someone at the center of a brewing storm.
Then the door flung open and in came Principal Jameson, her heels echoing sharply like war drums against the tile. She came around her desk and paused, taking one long, disbelieving look at the fractured scene before her.
