Chapter 3: The Selection of Shadows
929 Words
The atmosphere in the Lunar Academy’s main hall had shifted from mockery to a tense, suffocating silence. The Royal Scouts—men dressed in heavy silver-and-black armor—had finally arrived. These weren't just any warriors; they were the King’s elite, the strongest wolves in the realm. Usually, their arrival was met with cheers, but today, they looked shaken. Their eyes kept darting toward the side entrance where the "drifter" had exited, and their hands were visibly trembling on the hilts of their swords.
Jaxson, oblivious to the terror in the scouts' eyes, stepped forward. He had his hand wrapped in a bandage, but he still held his head high. Sarah was right beside him, preening like a queen-in-waiting.
"Generals," Jaxson said, his voice loud and arrogant. "I am Jaxson, son of Beta Marcus. I’ve reached the peak of the Senior Class. I’m ready for the assessment. I hope you didn't let that diseased drifter outside bother you. He was just some human-loving trash we were about to dispose of."
The Lead Scout, a massive man with a scar running across his eye, slowly turned his gaze to Jaxson. He didn't look impressed. He looked disgusted. "You think yourself a peak warrior, boy?"
"I do," Jaxson said, puffing out his chest. "I’ve beaten every shifter in this school. The only ones left are humans like Mira over there, and they don't count."
The Scout looked at me, huddled in the back. His eyes narrowed, not with mockery, but with a strange, intense curiosity. Then, he looked back at Jaxson. "The man you called a drifter... did you touch him?"
"I tried to put him in his place," Jaxson bragged. "He got a lucky grip on my hand, that’s all. Why? Is he some wanted rogue?"
The Scout let out a hollow, terrifying laugh. "If you only knew whose presence you were in, you would be ripping your own tongue out to beg for mercy. But we aren't here for you, Jaxson."
The hall erupted in whispers. Jaxson’s face turned a muddy shade of red. "What do you mean? I’m the highest-ranked wolf! Who else is there?"
The Scout ignored him and walked straight toward the back of the room. Toward me. The students parted like the Red Sea, their faces twisted in confusion. Sarah watched with her jaw dropped, her nails digging into Jaxson’s arm.
"Mira," the Scout said, stopping in front of me. He didn't bow, but he inclined his head in a gesture of profound respect. "We were told to look for a girl who smells of wildflowers and starlight. We were told she would be found in the shadow of those who don't deserve her."
"I... I don't understand," I whispered. My heart was thumping so hard I thought it would burst. "I’m just a human. There must be a mistake."
"There are no mistakes in the King's eyes," the Scout replied. He reached into his belt and pulled out a small, velvet-lined box. Inside was a ring made of pure, translucent moonstone. "The traveler you met today... he left this for you. He said if you ever find yourself in the dark, you should wear it."
Jaxson marched over, his face contorted with rage. "This is a joke! You’re giving Royal gifts to a human? She’s a servant! She’s nothing! I’m the one who deserves the King’s attention!"
"You deserve a cage," the Scout snapped, his voice booming. "The man you insulted is the only reason this pack hasn't been wiped off the map. You humiliated the one thing he values. Mark my words, boy—your 'Beta' title won't save you from what’s coming."
The Scout turned back to me. "The Selection is over. There will be no scouts for the Shadow-Crest pack this year. You are the only one invited to the Citadel."
The silence that followed was absolute. I looked at the moonstone ring, then at the shocked, hateful faces of my peers. Jaxson looked like he wanted to kill me, and Sarah looked like she was about to burst into tears of fury.
"I can't go," I said, my voice cracking. "My parents... my life is here."
"Your life here is a slow death, Mira," the Scout said softly. "The King is waiting. And he is not a patient man."
I looked toward the exit, thinking of the man with the electric blue eyes and the black veins. He wasn't a drifter. He was the King. The Cursed King. And I had just spent an hour treating him like a stranger while he stood up for a girl everyone else despised.
I took the ring and slid it onto my finger. The moment the stone touched my skin, a surge of warmth—the same warmth I felt when he touched my shoulder—raced through my body. The cold from the rain vanished. The shame evaporated.
I looked at Jaxson. For the first time, I didn't feel afraid. I felt pity.
"You were right, Jaxson," I said, my voice steady. "I’m not a placeholder. I’m the one you’ll never be able to reach."
I walked out of the hall, following the silver-clad guards. Behind me, Jaxson let out a roar of frustration, but I didn't look back. I was leaving the slums. I was leaving the bullying. But as I stepped into the black carriage waiting outside, I realized I was entering a world far more dangerous than the one I left behind.
Because if the King was hiding his identity from his own scouts, what else was he hiding?
- Writer
