My Alphas' Dark Desires - Chapter 356

Chapter 356: WWA: Second Test
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CHAPTER 356

~Principal Whitmore’s POV~

As soon as the incident reached my table, I had a call placed to the White Witch Clan/Association. And had them send two of their best to help heal the student.

If anyone could save the girl and keep this from turning into chaos, it was them.

Marianne was in no shape for anything. I heard she had been found cold that morning, passed out in the corridor of one of the classrooms.

By the time she was rushed to the infirmary, Nurse Abigail had already tried every healing charm she knew, every tonic within reach.

Nothing had worked. The girl remained locked in a coma, her chest rising and falling faintly like she was drifting further away with each breath.

I could not afford whispers spreading faster than the truth. If word reached the wrong ears before we took action, the entire academy’s safety would be called into question.

The sharp buzz of my office phone snapped me from my thoughts. “Principal Whitmore,” came Ms. Heart’s clipped but urgent tone, “the witches from the WWA have arrived.”

“Good.” I straightened, pushing back from my desk. With precision, I adjusted my blazer and smoothed the skirt of my suit before heading out.

A principal had to look composed, even when storms raged behind her eyes.

Ms. Heart rose as I entered her office. Seated across from her were two women whose presence carried its own gravity, dressed in white gowns.

One was a brunette with sleek, shoulder-length hair and sharp, assessing brown eyes.

The other, a redhead with green eyes whose aura practically crackled in the air, leaned back with an easy confidence.

“Principal Whitmore,” the brunette greeted, her voice even and professional.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” I replied, extending a hand. “Ms…?”

“Claire White, and this is my co-head witch in charge of the Middle Belt Ambassadorial team, Prisca Saint.”

“Welcome. Please, we need your expertise.”

“Lead the way,” the redhead said, already on her feet.

I guided them down the hall, my heels clicking against the tiles. Students parted as we approached, whispers chasing after us like ripples.

It was then that we passed Valerie. She froze mid-step, her gaze flicking to the witches.

The brunette’s eyes lingered on her just a second too long, one brow arching in quiet intrigue.

She said nothing, merely moved forward, but I did not miss it. I filed it away. In a place like this, every glance mattered.

At last, we reached the infirmary. Nurse Abigail looked up, relief flashing across her weary face when she saw me and the ladies.

Thanks to the necklace they wore, anyone who saw it knew who they were without an introduction.

“These are the witches from the WWA,” I announced, still. “They’ll be assisting with Marianne’s case.”

“Assisting?” the brunette repeated, stepping forward with a small, reassuring smile. “We’ll be taking over.”

Nurse Abigail stiffened, her hands fluttering nervously around her uniform. ” I-I did everything I could…”

“No one doubts your effort,” Claire cut in smoothly. “But this is beyond basic healing.”

The nurse fell silent, lips pressed tight.

“Proceed,” I instructed firmly. “The girl’s life comes first.”

Without delay, they moved. The brunette produced a pouch of fine white salt, sprinkling it in deliberate lines to form a boundary around Marianne’s bed. The redhead drew out charms etched with runes, placing them at each corner like anchors.

The air thickened as a soft hum played faintly. A=Immediately, a chill prickled my skin.

They began chanting, their voices weaving together in a low, rhythmic incantation. The room dimmed as though the light itself bent to their will.

Slowly, a glow formed on Marianne’s forehead—a soft white pulse, growing brighter with every word.

The redhead’s voice rose above the rest, commanding: “Show us what you last saw. Reveal who did this to you. Merche ver mort clasia var mor…”

The chant built in tempo, their words spilling faster, sharper. Two minutes passed, then their eyes snapped open, revealing clouded, white, otherworldly eyes.

A sudden crack reverberated through the room, and Marianne’s body jolted as if some unseen force recoiled. Both witches staggered back, breaking their circle as their chests heaved.

Nurse Abigail gasped, clutching her chest. “What—what happened?”

I stepped forward, managing to keep my voice firm and masking my worry. “Well? What is it? Who is responsible?”

The witches exchanged a heavy look before the redhead finally spoke, her tone grim.

“Dark Magic.”

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~Valerie’s POV~

I lay sprawled on my bed, staring up at the ceiling while a soft song hummed from my phone. The lyrics blurred into background noise, while my restless mind followed along.

My fingers tapped against my stomach in time with the beat, but when the clock on my nightstand struck five minutes to twelve, the sound cut straight through me.

My already shut eyes flew open.

I sat up at once, tugging at the hem of my black hoodie and smoothing out the leggings I had been wearing since dinner.

It had been deliberate, an excuse to be ready the moment I needed to leave.

Solstice hadn’t noticed. Thank the Moon for that. She was too wrapped up in her own problems to pay me much attention, which made it easier for me to hide mine.

“Alright,” I whispered under my breath, pulling on the shoes I had lined up by my bed. Silent, soft-soled—perfect for sneaking.

Moving like a shadow, I eased the door open, wincing at the faintest creak of the hinge.

I hugged the wall as I slipped down the corridor. Ever since the assassin attack, security had been doubled. Guards patrolled the premises.

I pressed my back flat whenever a lantern glow swept too close, waiting until footsteps faded before darting forward. My pulse hammered, but there was a strange thrill too.

Finally, I arrived at the South Courtyard. The air was cool and damp, carrying the earthy scent of night-blooming flowers.

My hand slipped into my hoodie pocket and drew out the folded letter I had received earlier.

I reread it, though it didn’t give me anything new. Just instructions to wait. Patience, it seemed, was part of the game.

So I waited.

Minutes bled together, but there was no sign of anyone coming. The silence pressed heavily, broken only by the rustle of leaves or the distant bark of a wolf-dog patrolling the grounds.

An hour must have passed when doubt began to gnaw at me.

What was all this? Maybe this was a trick. Perhaps nobody’s coming.

Then it happened.

A blur shot through the darkness, swiftly cutting the air with a whistle. I ducked just in time as something flew past my head—so close I felt the rush of wind. My knees hit the grass.

“What the—”

Before I could recover, a dusting of white rained down over me. Reflexively, I touched my hair, my fingers coming away coated in powder. No, paper.

I looked up just in time to see a single folded sheet drift into my lap.

My breath hitched. And when I opened it, I saw a message written in bold strokes for me. Not ink this time, but blood.

NIGHTSHADE.

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling as I read the rest.

For your Second Test, you shall partake in a quest tomorrow. At six p.m., retrieve the golden coin hidden in the Serpent’s Hollow. Beware its guardians. Only the brave survive.

I exhaled slowly, pulse thundering.

“A coin?” I muttered under my breath. “Guarded by what, snakes?”

Astra’s voice flickered through me. “Not snakes, Valerie. Probably something worse. You’re not going.”

I breathed softly as I tucked the paper in my pocket. “Oh, Astra, I have waited too long for this. I’m going.”