Novels by Lorenzo Moton

Chapter 9: It Has Begun The first death at Apex Academy did not happen during a duel. There was no announcement. No bell. No challenge invoked under ancient law. It happened quietly—violently—between scheduled classes, in a corridor warded against magic but not against intent. Alpha felt it before he saw it. A sharp pressure rippled through the academy, like a breath held too long and then released all at once. The system reacted instantly. [ALERT: LETHAL EVENT DETECTED] [LOCATION: EAST SUBLEVEL — RESTRICTED CORRIDOR] [STATUS: NON-ACCIDENTAL] Students paused mid-step. Wolves’ ears flattened. Vampires stiffened, blood humming uneasily. Faculty wards flared, late—but flared. Alpha was already moving. Not running. Not panicking. Just adjusting his route, feet carrying him closer without conscious thought. The east sublevel wasn’t meant for students. Old stone. Older seals. Corridors that predated the academy itself—built back when monsters taught monsters how to kill p

If Apex Academy was disappointed that no one died in the first week, it didn’t show it.The days settled into a rhythm—precise, exhausting, intentional. Training before sunrise. Theory at midmorning. Controlled violence in the afternoon. Reflection at night, whether assigned or forced upon aching bodies that refused rest.Alpha blended into it seamlessly.That, too, was intentional.Morning conditioning placed him in the lower-middle pack every time. Not last. Never last. Just forgettable enough to avoid scrutiny. He learned where to slow his breathing, when to let fatigue show, how to mask the micro-adjustments his body made instinctively.The system assisted without speaking.[AUTOMATED SUPPRESSION: ACTIVE][PERFORMANCE OUTPUT: NORMALIZED]In combat drills, Alpha rotated through opponents he’d already studied.Kael remained aggressive—overcommitting, burning stamina early. Riven adapted faster, testing rather than charging. Marek collapsed under

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