THE WOLVES OF LUNAR ACADEMY
620 Words
Jared didn’t want to go.
He’d said it three times, maybe four, pacing Kael’s study like a trapped wolf.
“You think sticking me in a pack of strangers will fix anything?”
“It’s not punishment,” Kael replied, calm as ever. “It’s preparation.”
“For what? A ceremony I might not even survive?”
That made her pause—but only for a heartbeat.
“You need to be among your kind,” she said. “You can’t keep hiding from what you are.”
He almost laughed. What I am. He wasn’t even sure who that was.
For days, he tried to fight it. But every time he passed Kael’s library, his eyes caught the page describing the First Wolves. The words clung to him like smoke. If the Academy was where they trained young wolves—and taught their history—then maybe, just maybe, he could find the missing pieces Kael refused to share.
So he stopped arguing. He packed what little he had and let her believe he’d accepted it.
Inside, he was already planning.
If Kael wanted him to learn discipline, fine.
He’d learn secrets instead.
The Lunar Academy wasn’t what he expected.
It wasn’t cold stone and ritual—it was vast, alive. The campus sprawled over a ridge of glowing pines and moonlit streams, its towers built of silver wood that shimmered faintly at dusk.
Hundreds of students filled the courtyards, laughter and howls echoing in the open air. Wolves ran alongside their human forms—young, wild, confident.
Jared froze at the gate, feeling smaller than he ever had before.
Kael stood beside him. “They’ll test your patience, your strength, and your control. Don’t let them define you.”
“You sound like you’re sending me to war,” he muttered.
“Sometimes, growing up is one.”
Then she was gone. Just like that.
His first hour was chaos.
He tried to follow the others to the registration hall, but the scent of so many wolves—alpha, beta, gamma—was overwhelming. His instincts, whatever they were, tangled in confusion.
He tripped over a low stair, dropping his bag. Laughter rippled through the crowd.
“Careful, newbie!” a tall boy jeered, flashing his fangs. “Wouldn’t want you to sprain a paw you don’t have!”
Another chimed in. “He smells… wrong. Like half-blood wrong.”
Jared clenched his fists but said nothing. Words were useless here. Wolves respected only strength, and he had none to show.
He gathered his things and walked past them, jaw tight. Every whisper followed like an echo.
That night, when the dorm lights dimmed and the others slept, he slipped out to the training field. The moon hung heavy above the forest, silver bleeding through cloud.
He sat cross-legged on the grass, closing his eyes.
Focus.
He slowed his breathing, the way Kael had taught him. Listened to the rhythm of the night—the rustle of leaves, the faint howl in the distance, the pulse under his skin.
At first, nothing. Then… a flicker.
The air shimmered faintly around him, the same way it had before his last vision. The grass bent inward, drawn toward him.
He saw—just for a second—the flash of golden fur. A voice, soft and distant, drifted through the wind.
Find us before they erase you.
His eyes snapped open. The vision was gone—but the words lingered, etched into his chest.
He stared up at the moon, heart racing.
Maybe Kael had sent him here to teach him control.
But this place
—this Academy—might teach him truth.
And he wasn’t leaving without it.
- Writer
