The Luna Academy

The Restricted Wings

"We're not supposed to be here," I whispered as Lucian led me down a corridor I'd been explicitly told was off-limits during orientation.

"I'm aware." He didn't slow his pace.

The north wing felt different—older, darker, with an energy that made my wolf stir uneasily. Portraits lined the walls, but these women looked haunted, their painted eyes filled with warning.

Lucian stopped at a heavy wooden door covered in strange symbols that seemed to shift when I looked directly at them. He pulled out a key that gleamed with an otherworldly silver sheen.

"Where did you get that?"

"My father. He's one of the few Alpha leaders who knows the truth about this academy."

The room beyond was a library unlike any I'd seen. Books lined floor-to-ceiling shelves, their spines marked with titles in languages I didn't recognize. In the center stood a glass case containing a single book, its cover shimmering with the same silver light I'd seen in my own hands.

"What is this place?"

"The Archive of Lost Lunas." Lucian moved to the glass case. "Every scholarship student who's attended Silvermoon Academy for the past two hundred years is documented here. Want to know how many graduated?"

The way he said it made my stomach drop. "How many?"

"Three. Out of forty-seven. The rest either 'dropped out' or died under mysterious circumstances. Always in their final year, always just before graduation."

My mouth went dry. "That's impossible. Someone would have noticed—"

"Scholarship students come from small, powerless packs. When a nobody from a nothing pack disappears, who investigates?" His voice was gentle but firm. "Who has the resources to challenge the most prestigious Luna academy in the world?"

I thought of my own pack—sixty-three wolves struggling to survive. If I disappeared, would they have the strength to demand answers?

No. They'd accept whatever explanation they were given and mourn quietly.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Lucian turned to face me fully. "Because you need to understand what you've walked into. This academy isn't just a school, Ember. It's a hunting ground." He moved closer. "Two hundred years ago, Luna Astrid Silvermoon nearly overthrew the Alpha power structure. She had abilities no one had seen before—she could sever mate bonds, strip Alphas of their power, heal entire packs with a touch."

"What happened to her?"

"The Alpha Council killed her and hunted down her descendants. Or thought they did." He gestured to the silver-covered book. "That's her journal. Her power passes through female descendants—Lunas with silver eyes who manifest during their first healing."

The pieces clicked into place with horrifying clarity. "The scholarship program isn't charity. It's a hunt."

"Exactly. The academy identifies girls from powerless packs who show signs of Astrid's bloodline. They bring them here, watch them, test them. And if they prove to be true descendants with developing abilities..."

"They disappear," I finished, feeling sick.

"My father suspected this for years but had no proof. When I told him I was attending Blackstone for Alpha training, he asked me to investigate Silvermoon during the partnership year. To find evidence, to protect this year's scholarship student if I could." He paused. "I didn't expect that student to be a direct descendant. The most powerful bloodline in two centuries."

I backed away, my mind reeling. "So your choice—everything—it's just been about your investigation? I'm what, your project?"

"No." He closed the distance in two strides. "It started that way. I chose you because you were the scholarship student, and I needed to keep you close to protect you. But then I saw how you handled Vivienne without breaking. How you held your head high when everyone dismissed you." His voice softened. "You're not a project, Ember."

A loud crash from the corridor made us both freeze.

"Someone's coming. Hide. Now."

He shoved me behind a bookshelf just as the door burst open. Through a gap in the books, I saw Headmistress Corvina sweep in.

"Mr. Ashford. I should have known. This wing is f*******n for a reason."

"I have permission from my father, Alpha King Theron Ashford. Unless you're planning to override an Alpha King's authority?"

Headmistress Corvina's jaw tightened. "Your father's authority doesn't extend to our academy's private archives."

"Actually, it does. Silvermoon Academy receives funding from the Continental Alpha Council, which my father chairs. Would you like me to have him review that funding arrangement?"

The threat hung in the air. I held my breath, pressed against the bookshelf.

"What are you doing here?" she asked finally, her voice strained.

"Research. For my Luna Politics thesis. I'm examining historical Luna leadership patterns."

She studied him suspiciously but couldn't argue with his logic—or his lineage. "Fine. But you will submit a formal request, and you will be accompanied by an instructor at all times."

"Perfectly."

She swept out, and Lucian waited a full minute before signaling safety. I emerged, my heart pounding.

"That was close."

"Too close. She's going to be watching us now." He ran a hand through his hair. "We need to be more careful."

"Maybe you should distance yourself from me. Being associated with me puts you in danger too—"

"Stop." He caught my shoulders. "I chose you, Ember. I'm not walking away because things are dangerous." His grip gentled. "Besides, if they discover I know about the conspiracy, I'm a threat too."

"Then why risk it?"

"Because forty-four women have died or disappeared, and no one has done anything about it. Because a system that murders innocent girls to maintain power needs to be destroyed." He paused. "Because you deserve better than being hunted. They all did."

I stared at him—this powerful Alpha heir who could have ignored the problem, who could have chosen complicity. Instead, he'd chosen opposition.

"Thank you," I said softly.

"Don't thank me yet. Knowing the truth just made you more dangerous to them." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a slim silver bracelet engraved with protective runes. "My father sent this. It's spelled to alert me if you're in immediate danger. Wear it always."

I slipped it onto my wrist, feeling the subtle warmth of protective magic. "Won't people notice?"

"Let them. You're my training partner. It's natural for me to ensure your safety." He opened the door carefully. "Clear. Let's go."

---

Training grounds section seven was an outdoor arena surrounded by high walls. Several other Alpha-Luna pairs were already training when I arrived.

Lucian stood in the center, arms crossed. "You're late."

I glanced at my watch. "By thirty seconds."

"Thirty seconds is the difference between life and death in a real crisis. As my training partner, you represent me. Your failures reflect on my judgment. Understood?"

The other pairs were watching. This was a performance—establishing the expected dynamic.

I straightened my spine. "Understood, Alpha Ashford."

"Good. First lesson: defense. Show me your combat stance."

I moved into the basic defensive position—feet shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, hands up.

Lucian circled me slowly. "Too rigid. Your weight distribution is wrong." He demonstrated with a light push, and I stumbled. "Again. Wider stance. Lower center of gravity."

I adjusted, and he nodded. "Better. Now defend."

He moved fast, his hand coming toward my face. I blocked, but he used my momentum against me, spinning me around and pinning my arm behind my back.

"Dead," he said quietly. "Never commit fully to a block against a stronger opponent. Redirect instead." He released me. "Again."

We drilled the same scenario repeatedly. Each time, he exploited a weakness. Each time, I failed.

"Pathetic," a familiar voice called. Vivienne stood at the edge of our circle with her Elite Circle. "A Luna who can't even defend herself. How embarrassing for you, Lucian."

Lucian didn't glance at her. "If you've completed your training, Vivienne, I suggest you leave."

"I'm just concerned. You've clearly made a mistake choosing such an inexperienced partner."

"That won't be necessary," I said firmly. "I'm learning."

Vivienne demonstrated blocks and counters with fluid precision, making me look like a stumbling child. "See? That's what a proper Luna looks like."

She walked away, leaving humiliation burning in my chest.

"Ignore her," Lucian said quietly.

"Hard to ignore when she's right."

"You're untrained. There's a difference. Vivienne has had private tutors since childhood. You've had whatever your small pack could spare." His blue eyes held mine. "But you have the will to learn. The hunger to improve. That makes you dangerous in ways she'll never understand."

Something warm bloomed in my chest.

"Now, let's try this again. Stop thinking like a victim and start thinking like a survivor. Because that's what you are, Ember Thorne."

I fell into stance again. This time, when he attacked, I didn't just defend—I moved with the strike, redirecting his energy.

"Better. Again."

We trained for another hour. By the end, I was exhausted, bruised, and sweating—but I'd successfully defended against one of his attacks.

"That's enough for today. You did well."

"I got thrown on my a*s seventeen times."

"But you got up eighteen times. That's what matters."

As I walked back to my dorm, every muscle aching, I caught sight of my reflection. Dirt-streaked face, messy hair, bruises forming on my arms.

I looked nothing like a proper Luna.

But for the first time since arriving at Silvermoon Academy, I looked like someone who wouldn't go down without a fight.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.