The Academy rose from the mountain like a scar.
Stone towers carved with ancient runes pierced the fog, their walls stained by history and something darker—proof that not everyone who entered ever left. This was not a place for learning comfort. It was a crucible.
The Lunar Academy did not teach wolves how to live.
It decided who deserved to.
Saphira stood among the other initiates at the base of the steps, her cloak marked with the silver sigil of her pack. The murmurs started immediately.
"Isn't that the fragile princess?"
"She should've died at the Hunt."
"Alpha blood doesn't mean strength."
She ignored them.
Princess or not, the Trials erased titles. That much, at least, was fair.
High above, the council watched—Alphas, elders, commanders from every pack, their eyes sharp and unblinking. Among them sat Alpha Kael, dark and immovable, his presence sending a ripple through the crowd.
Saphira felt him before she saw him.
Her wolf stirred uneasily.
The first Trial was announced without ceremony.
Trial One: The Run of Thorns
A forest path twisted with living briars, shifting terrain, and territorial beasts. Speed, endurance, and instinct would determine survival. Those who failed would be removed.
Permanently.
The signal sounded.
Chaos erupted.
Wolves surged forward, shoving, shifting mid-run, claws tearing into earth. Saphira hesitated—just a breath too long.
Someone slammed into her shoulder, sending her stumbling into the thorns.
Pain flared as vines cut into her skin.
Laughter followed.
She could feel it then—the pull of her power, begging to be used. Healing light pressed against her ribs, desperate to mend what was broken.
No, she told herself.
Exposure meant death of a different kind.
She forced herself forward, slower than the others, choosing paths they ignored, listening instead of charging. She watched the forest, learned its rhythm.
When a beast lunged, she ducked—not fought.
When the ground gave way, she rolled—didn't resist.
By the time the Trial ended, fewer than half remained.
Saphira crossed the line last.
Alive.
The second Trial came immediately.
Trial Two: The Circle of Challenge
Combat.
One-on-one. No killing blows—but injuries were expected.
Saphira's name echoed through the stone arena.
A ripple of anticipation followed.
Her opponent was twice her size, muscles coiled with confidence. He smiled like this was already over.
She didn't smile back.
The bell rang.
He charged.
She dodged, again and again, each movement precise, calculated. She let him tire himself, let anger blind him. When he finally struck true, pain exploded through her side—
—and the light surged.
For half a second, silver shimmered beneath her skin.
Gasps erupted from the stands.
Kael's head snapped up.
Saphira staggered, forcing the glow back down, back into silence. She twisted, using her opponent's momentum against him, and sent him crashing to the ground.
Silence.
Then the bell.
She had won.
The council exchanged looks. Elders whispered. Something had been noticed.
Kael watched her with dangerous focus.
She was no longer invisible.
As the Trials ended and the survivors were led inside the Academy walls, Saphira's hands trembled—not from fear, but from realization.
She couldn't hide forever.
The Academy didn't break the weak.
It revealed them.
And whatever Saphira was becoming, the moon was no longer willing to keep it a secret.