His ACADEMY’S LUNA

5

JASMINE

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I lifted my chin, steeling my expression against the gossip that filled the air.

Don’t flinch. Don’t give them that satisfaction, I told myself.

As I spotted Camille and Emily, I headed towards them. Camille turned to me, her gaze still dimming with concern.

“I’m okay,” I said, “what did I miss?”

“Not much, just some basic explaining,” Emily said, “They’re forming units—packs,” she said, “it would consist of Alphas, Luna…”

“…it’s just like the basic pack construct, but smaller in size,” Camille chimed in, “the unit would train together.”

Charlotte entered the enclosed glass, and a band was wrapped around her wrist and her neck. Her wolf strength measured eighty percent.

As she stepped out, her friends—minions ran to her and gasped, worshiping her.

She brushed past me, bumping her shoulders into me. “Beat that.”

My stomach twisted. She was a True-blood and I was a half -blood, we all knew that was impossible.

Charles adjusted his lenses and entered the machine, he measured an eighty-five. Evans measured as Ninety-nine. Gasp rippled through the room—it was the highest recorded.

In the far corner was Zane leaning on the wall, his signature domineering posture intact. He didn’t act like an Alpha, like when we were wolves, he was something more.

And that soul-searing gaze never left me.

Mrs. Brigson turned to our corner. “The half-breeds, starting with the Alpha Class.”

I faced Camille. “What was Zane’s measurement?”

“They didn’t measure him.”

“Why?”

“Camille is going to wash this down,” Emily said, her voice—too excited. She always sounded excited.

Emily began explaining how his from a powerful bloodline, history has it; they were the first to be born by the moon goddess.

Camille rolled her eyes. “The machine can’t pick your strength, if you’re too powerful or too weak.”

One by one they measured the Half-bloods, the highest Alpha didn’t even measure up to eighty like the lowest True-blood Alpha.

Camille and Emily were measured, thirty-five and thirty-six. They were placed in the same pack.

My lips tightened as I prayed to be in their pack. Not in Charlotte and Evans packs.

“Jessica Blake,” Mr. Brigson called.

My heart thundered, but I moved either way. Clenching and unclenching my fist, I headed towards the glass.

Inside the glass was worse. I could see their faces—their smiles—but couldn’t hear their words.

Mrs. Brigson wrapped the cotton wrap around my wrist and then around my neck.

My breath felt hot in my lungs, but my hands were oddly cold.

I didn’t know how they did it, but something oozed out of my skin, filling the enclosed space with the scent of lavender with a pine undertone.

‘This is our pheromones,’ Nyra said.

As the sensor picked up the scent, the machine whirred, and the light flickered.

And then.

Nothing.

Like I had been embarrassed enough today, it read nothing.

I saw them through the glass. Their mocking smile, the way it spread on their lips.

Heat pooled in my belly and tears welled in my eyes. But I held it back, the tears from trickling down.

And the cruelest of them was Charlotte, that wide grin, like she was a god that has already determined my fate.

Nyra whimpered like she was ashamed of herself.

Camille’s lips tightened at the corner, and she clenched her fist. While Emily's eyes drooped at the corners, her gaze was glossy like she were about to cry for me.

I wasn’t a wolf but a hunter, I told myself. But the ache in my chest didn’t go away.

When I stepped out, Mrs. Brigson said, “This is the weakest I have seen in quite a while. Well, we just have to find a pack that will accept you.” She sighed and massaged her temples like I had made her work more difficult.

“Throw her away,” A voice came from behind.

It was no longer quiet. Their laughs. It was loud, echoing off the walls that suddenly felt too small for me.

My throat burned and my vision blurred. Don’t cry—I begged myself not to shame me any further.

“Just dump her any—”

“I’ll take her.”

Zane’s voice tore through, and like it was a command, the room fell silent.

He pushed off the wall and closed the space between us. He was much taller than I had expected.

“I want her in my pack,” Zane said, holding my gaze, “as my Luna.”

Shock rippled through the hall, and murmurs cloaked the air.

My eyes widened and my stomach churned.

‘This must be a game to him,’ Nyra said.

“You want a half-breed omega with a low wolf strength to be your Luna?” Mrs. Brigson stuttered.

“Yes.”

“But you have the strongest female wolf in your pack.” Her eyes sliced to me. “This one. she’s —.”

“I thought Alphas get to pick their Luna irrespective of their programme.”

“Well. Yeah. But—.”

Zane cut her off. “Then I choose her as my Luna.”

My skin prickled as I felt the other student’s gaze, heavy with judgement— vile.

A weak omega is Luna? Fairy tales weren’t for people like me. Or was this his way of humiliating me?

Not being able to stand it anymore, I grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the hallway down to the quieter part of the corridor.

“What was that?” I hissed. “Is this one your game? Trying to humiliate me like the rest of them?”

His gaze swept over my face, slow and meticulous, the intensity making my skin prickle.

‘Why’s he staring at us like that?’ Nyra growled.

There was no hesitation, no shame in how he stared. As if he were cramming a detail he couldn’t afford to forget.

He tilted his head slightly. “You think I’d waste my time playing games?”

My heart skipped a beat at his deep, husky voice.

“Yes,” I snapped. “Why else would you sit next to me in class? Pick me as your Luna? I don’t know you, you don’t know me—”

“I don’t?” Zane murmured.

My spine locked, and I searched his face, and noticed, stupidly, how full his lashes were.

Quickly, I shook it off. “You do?”

Something flickered in his eyes. Maybe disappointment. Maybe something else.

My chest tightened. Where could a hunter have probably met a wolf, if not on a battlefield?

I wasn’t there during the battle between my clan and his pack. I was too young. So how could we have met?

My brows furrowed. He must think I’m an i***t.

I scoffed. “You must be mistaking me for someone else.”

Zane smiled, but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. Rather something else was there. Something sharp and dangerous.

He stepped closer. Until his uniform brushed against mine. Until his musky scent filled my lungs.

“Do you still keep cake under your bed, thinking your father’s ghost would eat it? Does your mother still nag about the smell?”

My stomach dropped. “How do you know that?”

Zane’s gaze darkened, a vein bulging at his neck and his voice bitter. “Did you still become the best hunter in the world?”

The corridor turned cold, and my heart, in sync with the strange mood, thudded anxiously, as if it was going to burst.

Who the hell was this boy?