The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans

The night felt endless.

I stood in front of the academy buildings with Felix beside me, the cold digging into my bones like tiny knives. My legs were trembling, but I kept my chin high. I couldn’t show weakness. Not now.

I kept glancing back. Over and over. Hoping.

Please, let someone else come. Let them see that we don’t have to take this. Let them care.

Then, finally, Elise appeared. Her arms were folded tight, her expression unreadable, but she came. Behind her were two other ferals, ones I didn’t even know by name. But that didn’t matter.

Then five more joined. Quiet. Hesitant. But they came.

We were ten. Just ten. Not the army I’d hoped for. But still, ten voices were louder than one.

I kept looking down the path, hoping. Waiting. But Callum never came.

My chest hurt more than I wanted to admit.

Morning came slowly, the sky shifting from black to bruised purple, then a pale, exhausted gray. The morning siren went off. The Academy started to stir. Lycans, Elites strutted past us, wrinkling their noses like we were something foul. Nobles stared, whispered. Some laughed.

But we stayed. We stood. Even as our feet ached and our eyes begged for sleep, we stood.

Then I heard the sharp clack of boots approaching. I turned and saw her, Astrid Voss. She walked like a storm that knew it couldn’t be stopped, her icy eyes sweeping over us with thinly veiled disgust.