The principal's brow furrowed deep, creases carving into his forehead like fault lines as he stepped forward. His polished shoes scraped against the concrete—a sound that seemed too loud in the charged air. When he spoke, his voice carried the firmness of authority, but underneath it trembled something raw, something afraid.
"Officers, you cannot arrest my student on this campus without my authorization." The words came out measured, deliberate, but his throat worked visibly between them, swallowing down the unease that threatened to crack his composure. "And you haven't even heard her side of the story."
Adrian London's jaw tightened. He squared his shoulders—a deliberate motion, chest expanding as he drew in a breath that tasted of sweat and tension and the metallic tang of blood still hanging in the air. His eyes locked onto the principal's, unblinking, unflinching. The muscle in his cheek twitched once before he spoke.
"You didn't hear what I just said?" Each word dropped like a stone into still water. His pulse thrummed steady in his temples, controlled, measured—the heartbeat of a man who knew he held the power here. "Assault is a criminal offense. We are law enforcement."
He took a half-step closer, close enough that the principal could probably smell the coffee on his breath, the starch in his uniform. "I will not stand by and watch injustice unfold before my eyes. Is that what you're asking me to do?"
The principal's hands clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening. "She is my student." His tone climbed higher now, desperation bleeding through like ink through wet paper. The words came faster, tumbling over each other. His chest rose and fell rapidly, breath quickening.
"You're obstructing justice." Adrian's voice cracked like a whip, sharp and sudden.
The crowd flinched collectively. He leaned in, and now his voice dropped to something quieter, more dangerous—a blade sliding from its sheath.
"Do you want us to arrest you as well?" The threat hung in the air, palpable as smoke.
"Your campus is crawling with undisciplined students. Put it in order—or I'll open a full investigation."
The words carried weight like iron, pressing down on everyone within earshot. Several students shifted uncomfortably, shoes scuffing against pavement.
Someone coughed. The afternoon sun beat down mercilessly, and sweat trickled down the principal's temple, tracing a slow path along his jaw.
"I've done nothing wrong!" Shanazer's voice tore through the tension, raw and ragged. Her throat burned with the force of it.
"The culprit is right there on the ground!" She twisted against the officer's grip, feeling his fingers dig into her upper arm—firm, unyielding.
Her heart hammered against her ribs like a caged bird, wild and frantic. The officer's other hand reached for her wrists, the cold metal of the cuffs catching the sunlight, and she jerked back instinctively. Her skin prickled with heat and fury and something that might have been fear if she'd let herself feel it.
"Miss Athens." Adrian's voice cut through her struggle, cold as winter steel, deliberate as a surgeon's incision. "Resisting arrest is another offense. Comply."
The word hung there—comply—and Shanazer felt it like a physical weight pressing down on her shoulders, her chest, making it harder to breathe. The air felt thick, suffocating. She could smell her own sweat, sharp and acrid, mixing with the copper scent of blood on her hands.
Then—footsteps.
Not hurried, but purposeful. Measured. The sound of expensive shoes against concrete, each step resonating with quiet authority.
The crowd sensed it before they saw him—that shift in the atmosphere, like the pressure drop before a storm. Bodies turned, necks craned. Whispers died on lips. The sea of students parted instinctively, unconsciously, creating a path.
Tairen Exon emerged through the gap, Anna at his side. His presence filled the space like a physical force—not loud, not aggressive, but undeniable. When he spoke, his voice cut through the air like a blade through silk, clean and absolute.
"What is going on here?"
Silence crashed down like a wave. The spectators held their breath collectively. Even the distant sounds of campus life seemed to fade—no birds, no traffic, nothing but the ringing quiet of held breath and racing hearts.
The principal turned first, hope flaring in his chest like a match struck in darkness. Adrian London pivoted more slowly, his confident posture faltering for just a fraction of a second—a micro-expression that flickered across his face before he could smooth it away. The officer's hand trembled visibly on the cuffs, the metal rattling softly.
Adrian's eyes met Tairen's, and recognition hit him like a fist to the gut. His stomach dropped. His pulse, so steady moments before, kicked up a notch, then another.
'This is not good…' The thought raced through his mind even as his face remained carefully neutral.
'But perhaps I can use it.' His mind worked quickly, calculating, adjusting.
'I won't need to call him after all. Everything is working in my favor.' He forced his lips into a smirk, but it felt wrong on his face—too tight, not reaching his eyes, which remained sharp and watchful.
Beside him, the officer's hand trembled harder now. Sweat beaded at his temple, gathering in the hollow there before sliding down toward his jaw.
His throat felt tight, constricted. Dread coiled in his chest like a snake, cold and heavy.
'Adrian, what have you dragged me into?' The thought screamed through his mind.
'I didn't sign up for this.' His fingers ached from gripping the cuffs too hard, knuckles white, tendons standing out like cords beneath his skin.
On the other side of this silent standoff, the principal felt his shoulders straighten as if pulled by invisible strings.
His spine lengthened. The fear that had been crushing his chest moments ago lifted, replaced by something fierce and bright.
'You won't take my student so easily. His jaw set with renewed determination. Let's see how you handle him.'
He had heard the stories—everyone had. Tairen Exon's reputation preceded him like thunder before lightning. His deeds of justice, his unyielding authority, the way powerful men stepped aside when he entered a room.
And Shanazer—she was family. Blood. The principal felt the tide turning beneath his feet, favor shifting like sand, flowing to his side now.
Adrian London drew in a breath, tasting his own tension, and steadied himself. His voice came out firm, though strain threaded through it like a hairline crack in glass.
"Sir, this young lady assaulted that man." He gestured toward the figure on the ground, still bleeding, still groaning softly.
"Had the security guards not intervened, we might be speaking of murder." The words felt heavy on his tongue. "And now she refuses arrest—another crime in itself. Her words betrayed her intent; she said she wanted to kill him."
Tairen's eyes—dark, penetrating—fell on Shanazer. The world seemed to narrow to just that gaze, that moment. Blood stained both her hands, dark and drying now, crusted under her fingernails, smeared across her palms.
Disappointment clouded his face like storm clouds rolling across a clear sky, though confusion lingered beneath it—a question unasked, unanswered.