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The old lecture room had never appeared so oppressive.

Its empty rows of seats and chalk-dusted tables stood in ominous silence as a testament to our distress.

Only a few enchanted lanterns cast a doubtful light, deep shadows crawling into every corner.

We were not pupils of regular lessons here tonight, but survivors who had come to confront a shadow that had already claimed one among us.

Alexander Blackwood stood at the center, the raven-sealed scroll before him.

His position was resolute, but his face showed the cost of sleepless nights and unspoken fears.

Tasha stood beside him, her new role as Luna heavy on her shoulders but steeling her determination.

Behind them, elders, warriors, talented humans, and pack members stood in the semicircle—each face etched with worry, each heart racing with the knowledge that the true enemy might be among us.

1. Blackwood's Suspicion

Blackwood cleared his throat, and there was silence like a stone.

"Five nights ago," he began, voice firm, "we watched Damon disappear—an event none of us can account for.

Moments ago, Cass returned with proof that his betrayal runs deeper than simple jealousy.

" He held up a smear of ink-black residue.

"This rogue magic taint is of the same type we found in the catacombs.

It means the work of the Shadowbound Court. "

A murmur spread through the hall—fear, distrust, anger.

Blackwood responded to each glare. "We do not merely have an external enemy but also a wolf among us. I will not allow our grief or suspicion to tear us apart. We must purge this darkness tonight."

2. Council in Turmoil

A chorus of voices erupted at once. An elder, silver hair in a halo, leaned forward. "Alpha, you publicly grieve. Perhaps Damon's vanishing is a leadership failure.".

Another of the pack members flashed back, "Or perhaps Cass's covert patrols betrayed us!"

Tasha rose to her feet, her voice ringing out over the commotion. "That does it!" she ordered. "The darkness wishes to divide us. If our own hearts betray us, they will have won without having to raise a hand. We rise or we fall together."

Her words filled the room. Even the toughest critic bowed his head.

Cass strode ahead. "Alpha," he whispered, "I give you my pledge to take on the hunt. We will seek out every trace of rogue magic, confront the plotters, and lay them before justice."

Blackwood inclined his head. "Have at it, Beta. But do not risk yourself alone. Take Mina—and three honest warriors."

3. Hunt the Traitor

A few seconds later, Cass, Mina, werewolf scout Rylan, witch expert Mara, and telekinetic Javi followed through a concealed door at the rear of the stage.

It led into service corridors that were infrequently walked—a maze of cobweb-shrouded corridors and vacant storage spaces.

Cass's footfalls echoed as he guided them by memory, his fingers tracing runes that only he and the ancient witch who had instructed him understood.

Here, he breathed, stopping before a fallen brick wall. He touched his hand to it, grumbling to himself. A thin, oily line throbbed black beneath his hand—residues of unlawful magic.

Mara's eyes widened. "They've been smuggling in charms through here.".

They moved silently along the mark further until a patch of light from torches gleamed under a thick oak door.

Rylan leaned by the hinges and looked in.

The dance of the brazier illuminated a semi-circle of pupils—I recognized the faces of patients from the infirmary, even the library—huddled and murmuring around an emerald-glowing amulet.

"They're initiating new converts," Mara whispered.

Cass's jaw clenched. "Tonight, it stops.".

They disappeared into shadows, closing the door behind them. Their minds reeled with the awareness that treason struck deeper than they had feared—and that Damon had already kindled this spark of rebellion.

4. Mina's Vision Intensifies

As Mina walked down the infirmary corridor. Sleep was a thing of the past; her rest had become a battlefield of awake horrors. Suddenly, eyelids flashed together—and she was submerged in another living nightmare.

She saw Damon on top of a splattered dais.

Dark figures ringed him, masks contorting with silent agony.

Tasha and Blackwood battle overhead, their powers flashing fury and light against the advancing haze.

And then Damon lifted his hand: on his palm, a sigil had materialized—a twin-serpent symbol.

Then the shadows stepped forward, ravenous and unforgiving.

Mina awoke with a gasped strangle. The world was dark and empty save for her ragged breathing. She reached trembling fingers to her forehead, the memory of that sigil burned into her mind.

Blackwood burst in. "Mina—Are you hurt?"

She shook her head. "It's not physical. I... I saw him commanding an army of shadows. The sigil—just like what Cass found."

His face went white. "Then we have no time to waste."

5. Forging a Counter-Oath

In the courtyards' circle of stone, old as the ancient time, wards shone softly with shimmer as lanterns were placed on each upright monolith. Tasha and Blackwood stood at the altar—an obsidian plate embedded in the earth. The pack that had gathered closed around them in a ring.

Blackwood held up his hand. "Tonight, we forge our oath, not only in blood but in truth. We must steel our souls against penetration."

Single members came forward to the altar. Each placed a hand on its shining surface and spoke an agonized confession—a declaration of fault or remorse that opened their hearts and bound them in vulnerability:

· Cass: "I kept my love for Mina hidden, fearing it would make me weak. Tonight, I laid that open to stand stronger."

·\\tMina: "I have carried nightmares of our downfall. Now, I offer them as fuel for our unity."

\\t·\\tRylan: "My brother fell to madhouses run amok, and I watched in vain guilt. I vow to protect you all in his stead."

\\t·\\tMara: "I once dabbled in necromancy, lured by forbidden ideas. I now pledge my witchcraft solely for our defense.".

· Javi: "My telekinesis used to trick minds. Now I bind my powers to heal and to guard."

As Tasha placed her hand over theirs, her words resonated loud. "I am Luna—I bear the weight of our bond and vow to guide us with strength and compassion."

Blackwood completed the promise: "By my honor and this ancient custom, let no darkness within turn us apart."

A heat wave radiated from the altar. Runes on the monoliths glowed more intensely, creating a protective shield that hummed through every soul in attendance.

6. A Glimmer of Hope

A few seconds later, a patrol of warders maintaining the perimeter encountered a squirming tendril of darkness—smoky and sibilant, attempting to edge past the newly set wards.

The defenders—witches, werewolves, and telekinetics—coordinated their abilities.

Earth and light responded in anger, transmogrifying the darkness into a dissipating mist that retreated with a final hiss.

Cheers went up among the onlookers. It was a small victory, but one that had to be won: proof that the Counter-Oath could function.

7. The Real War Begins

Cass returned at dawn's first light, gasping.

"Alpha—Tasha—there's more. The sigil in my vision is equivalent to the mark in the pupils' eyes.

" He indicated the whirling design painted on the oak door of the catacombs and the ghost memory within Mina's mind.

"The Shadowbound Court's power has already invaded deeper than we realized.

They have moles, people on the brink of betrayal. "

Blackwood nodded gravely. "Therefore, our course is clear: drive out the plotters, fortify every ward, and prepare, not just against external assault, but against that war which brews within our own ranks."

Tasha's fingers rested a soft touch upon his arm. "We stand ready," she spoke softly. "United, we stand—and shall not fall."

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With dawn breaking fully over campus, survivors emerged to their tasks.

Training resumed again with fresh vigor.

Search parties swept concealed corridors.

The newly fortified wards glowed like hope beacons.

And though threat from marauding armies and a treacherous minority loomed large, the pack's unity—fostered by truth and sacrifice—glowed brightly against the darkening shadows.

But in the hidden passageways, the sigil pulsed on in silent promise. The pillaging armies were gathering. Damon, the void's chosen host, was stirring them into action. The war had not only begun—it had penetrated the heart of our refuge.

Together, we would confront it. And together, we would battle.