The Luna Academy

Between Wolf and Witch

I was glad I’d slept yesterday afternoon, because last night I couldn’t close my eyes without replaying every word Elder Yona threw at me. I might not have powers, but at least I’m an anomaly. With today being skills practice for witches, I’ll be with the shifters instead, and if that means turning into one of those things, then I’m in for a whole new kind of pain.

I’m not even sure what they consider training. If it’s anything like what I saw during the demonstration, they basically claw at walls and chew on wood like oversized termites. Either way, training’s better for me anyway. I’ve had an affinity for it ever since I was a teenager.

While Mom may have never hit me herself, there were days I thought she might if the locked door hadn’t stopped her. After the first time it happened, I swore to myself I’d never let myself feel defenseless again. I started watching action movies and mimicking the actors on screen, hoping it would help me stay in shape.

When it wasn’t enough, I turned to strength. I chose one tree in the woods and hit the same spot over and over until, years later, the bark bore a decent dent. It was nearly visible thanks to all the bark I’d torn off around it, but it was mine. Proof I could endure.

Pulling on the training gear that must have appeared in my closet overnight, I take note of my palm and see the wound is nearly healed to the point that I’m not sure why I needed five stitches. Shaking it off, I lace up my tennis shoes, tie my hair into a tight ponytail, and head out of my dorm.

The hallway is already buzzing with students. Everyone else is dressed in uniform, which makes me stand out more than I intended. As I pass, heads turn and eyes follow, prompting a few to smooth their skirts or straighten their ties. I lower my gaze, but it doesn’t make me invisible. The weight of their stares presses down, and suddenly, the hallway feels too small.

“Where have you been?” Viola demands, grabbing my arm and yanking me out of the flow of students.

“I can’t do this right now,” I mutter, jerking my arm but not quite pulling free. “Please, just let me be. The last thing I need is to be late on my first day.”

“Sure,” she teases, lips curling into a sly smile. “That’s why they’ll be staring at you all day.”

“What do you want from me, then?” I sigh.

“It’s not what I want.” Viola tilts her head, her tone softening in a way that makes me trust her less, not more. “It’s what I can do. I can help you with your… situation.”

My stomach twists. “What are you talking about?”

“Last call!” a voice shouts down the hall as the stragglers sprint out of the dormitory.

Viola leans in, her voice a whisper meant only for me. “I’ll come find you tonight, after lights out.” Her smirk widens as she steps back, releasing me. “Now go.”

Jogging the rest of the way to the shifters’ training grounds, I feel my stomach coil tighter with every step. There seems to be a shift in the atmosphere as the air grows heavier and the clouds thicken enough to swallow the sun and dim the world around me. Voices drift from ahead, causing me to slow down and hug the shadows, careful not to crunch the gravel underfoot.

“I’m totally going to kick your ass today,” one boy boasts, his voice sharp with confidence. I imagine he’s puffing out his chest as he says it. “Been hitting the weight room and sprinting for hours every day for this. Today’s fights are mine.”

Another boy snorts, “You’re going to end up scaring the new pups before they even get a chance to run. Don’t forget more than half of them have never even shifted outside of their village before.”

“Nah, they can take it,” the first insists, defiant. “Besides, after last night, this year’s initiates don’t look so soft.”

“Except for the one girl,” another speaks up, then lowers his voice into a mocking whine. “‘Oh no, the spotlight’s on me! I better run crying into the forest.’”

Heat prickles across my cheeks as my head shelters into my body to hide, even though they can’t see me.

“Rumor is she’s a hybrid,” the second boy speaks almost like he’s giving a prophecy.

The first boy barks out a laugh. “Yeah, right. There are one hundred and twenty-eight hybrids, and every single one of them is accounted for.”

“And how would you know?” the third boy challenges, voice rising with irritation.

“Because I pay attention,” the first snaps back, his bravado crumbling into defensiveness. “Unlike some people.”

“Shh,” the third boy hisses suddenly. “Be quiet. He’s coming.”

The wind shifts with their silence. Even hidden in the shadows, I feel a chill crawling across my skin, sharp enough to raise goosebumps.

“You fellas should watch what you say in the company you’re keeping,” a new voice warns, low and commanding.

The sound coils around me like smoke, both familiar and dangerous.

Oliver.

The memory of firelight against his bare skin flashes across my mind, throwing me off balance. My heart lurches as I move to get away, but my boot catches on a rock causing me to stumble forward. Branches whip against my arms as I crash through the bushes to the other side, where all the guys are standing together.

Instantly, heat rushes to my cheeks. Embarrassment claws up my throat as I throw a hand over my face, wishing I could vanish into the ground. That is, until I catch a glimpse of their expressions. Every single one of them is staring, not at me, but at Oliver.

Oliver steps toward me, his hand half-extended in a quiet offer to help. The exact second he moves, chaos ensues. One boy jerks backward as if shoved by an invisible force, nearly cracking his skull on a nearby rock. Another yelps as his arm scrapes deep against the bark of a tree. The third spins to run but trips over himself, sprawling face-first in the dirt with a thud, making me flinch.

The smug look in Oliver’s eyes falters. For a flicker of a moment, fear flashes in his eyes before quickly disappearing. His look feels so familiar, but I can’t seem to place it. All I know is that right now I need to help. I stand from the ground, prepared to help everyone, but Oliver flees in one direction, and the guys in the other.

I go to run after Oliver, but the guy who cut himself on the tree stops me.

“Come with us if you don’t want to end up hurt like us. He’s dangerous!” The boy clutches my arm, pleading with me to leave with them.

“He’s not dangerous…” The words spill out of me before I can stop them.

I shake free of the boy’s grip and take off after Oliver, whispering the truth to myself as the forest swallows me whole.

“He’s scared.”