The Luna They Underestimated

Chapter 07

Rowan’s POV

Padding toward the kitchen, I flip on the light, fill a glass with water, and perch on a stool, gazing absently out the window. This place carries such profound silence compared to our previous street, which sat right along a busy road. Something about the quiet appeals to fewer people around means fewer prying eyes, fewer neighbors involved in business that isn't theirs. As I'm rinsing my glass, though, sudden movement near the tree line snags my attention instantly. I blink hard, questioning my own eyes, leaning closer against the glass. A massive black wolf stands motionless at the forest's edge, gaze locked directly on the house on me. I rub my eyes, pressing nearer to the window, breath fogging the glass instantly. When I looked again, the wolf's simply vanished. Convincing myself it was probably exhaustion playing tricks, I shrug off the unsettling moment, flip the kitchen light off, and retreat back toward bed.

Settling under my purple duvet, generic lavender print and all, I burrow deep into my pillow, chasing comfort. Sleep proves elusive at first, that wolf's image replaying stubbornly behind my eyelids. Who exactly was watching me? We're pretty isolated out heremaybe just routine patrol checking the perimeter. Eventually, though, exhaustion wins out completely.

The following days blur together as we gradually settle into routine. Monday arrives eventually, and I dress in jeans and a blue T-shirt, packing my school supplies into my bag. My parents have their own meeting scheduled with Alpha Thorne today, sorting out their permanent job assignments. As we pull up outside my new school, dread pools heavy in my stomach. Mom catches my eye through the rearview mirror.

"Any chance I could fake being sick until next week?" I plead, and she arches an eyebrow at me pointedly.

"You'll manage just fine. Sounds like I might actually be working here myself, coincidentally. Keep your head down, behave yourself," she warns, and I nod reluctantly. Sighing heavily, I push open the back door and step out. The brick building looming ahead already promises the same disappointing fate as my last schoolinevitable torment once they discover my wolf-less status, which, thanks to those lovely mandatory Pack runs, won't stay hidden for long. Then I'll return to being everyone's favorite punchline all over again.

I make my way directly toward the main office, greeted by a woman probably in her mid-thirties, straight auburn hair brushing her shoulders, oversized round glasses perched perfectly on her nose. Her hazel eyes flick toward me as I enter, offering a genuinely warm smile that I weakly return.

"Rowan, I assume?"

"That's me, here for my schedule," I confirm, approaching the desk. She scans through some papers before producing a manila folder, sliding it across toward me.

"Everything's insideschedule, campus map, library card, locker combination too," she explains. I flip it open, scanning my schedule, stomach dropping instantly upon spotting mandatory training scheduled every single afternoon except Fridays.

Did Mom even realize students here train daily too? Two full hours of standard training, plus an additional hour specifically focused on wolf-shifted training every Tuesday and Wednesday. Fantastic, absolutely fantastic. Won't even survive a full day before everyone discovers the truth and I'm exiled all over again. Should probably start charging for predictions at this rateknew this would unravel quickly.

Might as well start repacking my room already. Maybe I could negotiate some excused absence for the first week, at least.

"Thanks," I mutter, heading off to locate my assigned locker. Punching in the combination, I notice a handful of curious glances directed my way, though nobody seems outright hostile, which honestly comes as a relief. Loading books into my locker, I retrieve materials for first period English, then jump slightly upon noticing a girl leaning casually against the neighboring locker, staring directly at me. Dark hair styled into a sharp pixie cut, golden hoop through her nose, dramatic eyeshadow blending purple into black completing her overall look.

"Hey, you're obviously new. I'm Hazel," she introduces herself, plucking my schedule straight from my fingers without asking.

"Rowan," I offered awkwardly, waiting for her to hand it back.

"We share basically every class together. Feel free to tag along, I'll show you around properly," she offers, returning my schedule. I tuck it carefully atop my textbooks.

"That'd be great, thanks."

"So, word is you transferred from Alpha Victor's territory?" she asks. I didn't respond immediately. Gossip clearly travels fast though honestly, within tight Pack communities, everyone knowing everyone's business isn't exactly shocking.

"My dad ranks third in command, " overheard Alpha Thorne and Matthew discussing it. So you've got Beta bloodline?" she presses, and I nod.

Not that inherited genetics matter much without an actual wolf to back them up.

"Your mom's apparently pretty legendary to only female warriors serving under Victor. What was living there actually like? Is he really as harsh as everyone claims?"

"Eh, it was fine, honestly. Pretty standard Pack experience," I shrug noncommittally.

"Interesting, because Alpha Thorne genuinely despises Victor. Surprised he even approved a transfer, honestly. Your parents must carry a serious reputation, considering we haven't accepted new Pack members in years. He's notoriously cautious about who he lets settle here rumor was he even regretted the whole open-membership policy lately, so your family clearly impressed him somehow," she explains. Cautious definitely wasn't the vibe I picked up from him personally. Honestly, nothing about him matched my expectations whatsoever half expected jail cells or immediate banishment, so her words leave me feeling oddly unsettled. Hazel pauses beside a green door, gesturing toward it.

"English class, right here. Mr. Finch is decent enough, just don't show up late he genuinely despises tardiness."

Peering inside, I notice a stark contrast compared to classrooms back home, everyone's engaged in quiet conversation, patiently waiting for their teacher's arrival. My old Pack's classrooms were chaotic, loud, practically feral most days, so witnessing this level of restraint catches me genuinely off guard. Hazel guides me toward an empty desk near the back, settling beside me, pointing out various cliques scattered throughout the room.

"That cluster over there, totally harmless, I call them the safe zone. Zero drama guaranteed," she notes, indicating a group chatting amongst themselves, admittedly leaning slightly nerdynot that I'm one to judge, being fairly nerdy myself.

"Now that group, though, definitely steer clear. Blonde girl's Maeve, absolute nightmare, self-appointed Queen Bee, obviously. Best strategy's staying neutral, floating somewhere comfortably in the middle like I do," she advises, pointing out a handful of additional smaller groups scattered around. Moments later, the teacher enters, thankfully skipping any awkward new-student introduction entirely, immediately diving into writing notes across the whiteboard, instructing everyone to copy them down.

The remainder of the day passes in a hazy blur, and mostly, I follow Hazel's guidance, keeping myself deliberately low-key. During lunch, we settle out on the oval together, watching students and staff prepare the training grounds nearby. Nausea creeps up steadily, dreading the impending two-hour training session ahead, when suddenly my attention snags on my mother stepping onto the fieldwalking directly alongside Alpha Thorne himself.