Novels by Lorenzo Moton

Nothing exploded.No wards screamed.No blood answered a silent call.No instincts bowed.Which, at Apex Academy, was unusual enough to feel deliberate.Morning drills began at sunrise. The training fields stretched wide beneath a pale sky, etched with boundary lines and reinforced with sigils that dulled lethal intent without suppressing power. Faculty members stood at the edges—arms folded, expressions bored, senses sharp.Alpha stood in the third row.Not front.Not last.Exactly where someone forgettable belonged.The system approved.[DAILY ROUTINE: ACCEPTABLE][POWER VEIL: STABLE][RECOMMENDED BEHAVIOR: COMPLIANT]Warm-ups were called.Students ran.Wolves surged ahead immediately, long strides, predatory ease. Vampires followed with unnatural efficiency—no wasted motion, no breath out of place. Hybrids clustered in the middle, some struggling, some adapting.Alpha ran at a human pace.Not slow enough to draw attention.Not fast enough to raise questions.As they circled the fie

The first bell at Apex Academy did not ring.It resonated.A deep vibration rolled through the campus, waking wards, sigils, bloodlines, and instincts older than the buildings themselves. Students poured into the central courtyard—wolves with eyes already glowing, vampires walking in flawless silence, hybrids standing stiff and unsure.At the highest balcony, the faculty gathered.They were not ordinary teachers.They were former Alphas.Exiled vampire lords.War survivors.Executioners who had retired because nothing left could challenge them.They felt it immediately.A pressure.A distortion.Like a shadow cast by something that refused to be seen.“Did you sense that?” one of them murmured.“Yes,” another replied. “But it vanished.”Below them, Alpha stood among hundreds of students, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed, heartbeat steady. No aura leaked from him. No power flared.The system tightened.[POWER VEIL: ADAPTIVE MODE][FACULTY DETECTION: PARTIAL — REDIRECTED]The headm

Alpha was born screaming.Not like a child—but like something dragged back into the world against its will.Air burned his lungs. Light stabbed his eyes. His body convulsed as instinct reached for power that wasn’t there. No claws. No fangs. No dominance. Just fragile skin, a racing heart, and hands too small to be dangerous.The system moved before panic could take hold.[REINCARNATION STABILIZATION ACTIVE][POWER VEIL: ENABLED][HYBRID CORE: CONCEALED]The scream tore from him again—then cut off as unfamiliar arms wrapped him tight. A voice murmured above him, shaking, human and afraid.“Easy… easy… you’re safe.”Safe.The word meant nothing.Alpha felt the absence first. His wolf—silent. His vampire blood—muted, dull as ash. The immense presence he once carried was gone, compressed into something so small it barely registered.The system explained nothing.It simply hid him.[NOTICE:]Primary abilities suppressed to avoid early detectionReason: World-state instabilityRecommendati

Alpha knew they would try again. Men who betray a king never sleep easy. They fear footsteps behind them. They count shadows. They sharpen blades meant for someone else’s back—because they know the truth: A True Alpha doesn’t forgive. He remembers. After the execution failed to erase him completely—after rumors spread of the moon dimming, of chains cracking, of blood refusing to dry—the council pretended nothing was wrong. They smiled. They spoke of balance. They watched him more closely than ever. Alpha played his role perfectly. Weakened. Obedient. Contained. He let the seals stay visible. Let his shoulders slump. Let his voice soften. He allowed the Acting Alpha to speak over him. Allowed the Regent to believe the royal blood had thinned. But at night, alone, he planned. Revenge wasn’t rage to him. It was architecture. He mapped the pack hierarchy in his mind—who bowed out of fear, who bowed out of greed, who could be turned, and who would have to die. He noted which e

They thought she was a bystander. A cloaked figure at the edge of the execution circle—nothing more than a shadow drawn by curiosity or cruelty. The elders never looked twice at her. The Regent dismissed her as insignificant. That was their final mistake. She was not pack. She was not coven. She was neither prey nor ruler. She was the Moonbound. Long before Alpha was born, before packs learned hierarchy and vampires learned courts, the Moon chose her line as its counterweight. Not an Alpha. Not a king. A keeper. When a True Alpha is born, the Moon answers with one soul capable of surviving him. Not to submit. Not to dominate. But to anchor. She had felt him the night he was born—felt the sky tear open, felt the Moon shudder, felt a power awaken that should not exist alone. From that moment on, her path bent toward his, no matter how far she ran. She did not know his name. But she knew his presence. That was why she stood there now, heart hammering, blood burning as the

They didn’t come for him at night. They came at dawn—when wolves were weakest, when vampires were half-starved, when the world itself hovered between shadows and light. The execution circle was carved into ancient stone, soaked so deeply with old blood it never fully dried. Alpha stood at its center. Silver chains wrapped around his wrists, his throat, his spine—etched with runes older than packs and covens alike. Each symbol bit into his skin, burning away strength, silencing his wolf, choking the vampire hunger until his vision blurred. He did not kneel. They forced him. The first betrayal stepped forward. The Pack Elder. The man who had held Alpha as a child. Who had sworn loyalty under the same moon that now watched in silence. His voice shook—not with guilt, but fear. “You were born wrong,” the elder said. “A True Alpha should not exist. You bend wolves without consent. You threaten the balance.” Alpha lifted his head slowly, blood running from the corner of h