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LEAH’S POV The chief announcer steps forward. “Students and faculty members, thank you for assembling this morning. We are gathered here to conclude the Outer Ridge Valley trial and formally recognize the students whose performance demonstrated exceptional resilience, leadership, and adaptability under difficult field conditions.” Difficult field conditions? What a charming way to describe a disaster that sent three heirs of the Great Packs to the medical ward. “Despite the unexpected challenges encountered during the exercise, our students demonstrated commendable determination. The academy recognizes the courage required to navigate dangerous terrain, respond to unforeseen circumstances, and protect fellow participants.” Someone behind me mutters, “Protect them from what? Each other?” A muffled laugh follows. The announcer either does not hear it or chooses not to. “After a thorough review of the available field reports, instructor assessments, and survival records, the acad
LEAH’S POV The oak door of my dorm room clicks shut, sealing me inside a quiet bubble of stone and academic privilege. For two full days, I have not stepped foot outside. Not once. I have not been to the cafeteria, visited the library, or bothered to check whether the academy has decided to change its rules overnight. I have not even made the effort to look through my window for longer than necessary. Following the chaotic inquiry in the central faculty tower, Dean Grayson handed down his ruling. Leah Bellmoore was assigned to mandatory remedial training under Instructor Selene. Willow Rosante was slapped with revoked field privileges and the looming threat of an official interrogation by the envoys of three Great Packs. That was the academy’s attempt at justice. A few restrictions, some carefully chosen words, and a promise that the matter would be investigated further. Most students would have spent those forty-eight hours pacing their floors in sheer panic. Most would hav
WILLOW’S POV Seeing a man with pale, pupil-less white eyes, a man who is said to have acted like a cold, unfeeling god for decades, suddenly chuckling to himself like a maniac is the most deeply unsettling sight I have ever witnessed in my life. It makes the hair on my arms stand up on end. A cold, terrifying dread settles over my soul. Dean Grayson slowly rests his chin on his folded hands, his pupil-less white eyes glinting with a dark, chilling amusement as he stares down at Leah. "Threat noted, Miss Bellmoore," Grayson says softly, his deep voice carrying a strange, dangerous thread of delight. I watch Leah carefully out of the corner of my eye. The moment the dean speaks, Leah's right hand slips behind her back. And as it rests against her skirt, I see it. Her hand is shaking uncontrollably. Her fingers are trembling so hard she has to grip her own wrist to keep them still. A sharp realization hits my mind like a bolt of lightning. She was terrified. She was completely,
WILLOW’S POV I open my mouth, forcing a soft, tragic sob to leave my throat as I take a small step forward. "Professor Lucien... please," I whimper, letting my voice shake with heartbreaking innocence. "I... I never intended to bring a dangerous weapon onto the field... I only brought that simple powder to protect my squad..." Before I can complete my sentence, before I can even drop a single fresh tear onto my cheek— Leah acts. She does not drop to her knees again. She does not sob. She does not play the timid omega. Instead, Leah suddenly straightens to her full height, snapping her spine completely straight. Her heels strike the floor with a sharp, echoing sound. She lifts her chin, her small frame expanding with a sudden, violent surge of raw, unyielding rage that takes every single person in the conference room by complete surprise. I freeze. My mouth stays half-open, my scripted sob dying instantly in my throat. Professor Lucien blinks, stepping back half a pace in shoc
WILLOW’S POV It is so stupidly simple. Leah dropped a single line of praise about his strength, called him a terrifying threat, and Asher's thick Alpha brain instantly melted. He is actually standing beside me feeling proud of himself while she systematically dismantles my entire defense. "I didn't mean to hurt them..." Leah sobs, her voice dropping into a small, broken whisper as she bows her head to the floor. "I don't understand why they collapsed... I didn't mean to harm my teammates... I didn't know..." The room remains dead silent for three agonizing seconds. Then, a chair glides smoothly back from the middle of the table. Professor Lucien stands up. My heart drops straight into my shoes. Professor Lucien is the head of the Herbal Medicine Department. He is young, brilliant, and widely recognized as the leader of the neutral faction inside the faculty. He does not care about pack politics. He does not care about anyone’s family money. He cares strictly about logic, ac
WILLOW’S POV She is kneeling. She is actually kneeling on the floor in front of thirty faculty members. In normal circumstances, omegas are treated like second-class citizens in our society. They are pushed around, ignored, and expected to yield to Alphas. But there is one sacred, unspoken rule concerning omegas in elite werewolf society— you do not allow a low-ranking omega to break down and kneel and weep alone in a room full of powerful, older Alphas before a formal conviction has been made. If she were crying back at the Harvest Moon estate, no one would care. My father would laugh and tell her to shut her mouth, and Alpha Everest Lockwood, as well as all our packmates, would do the same too. But here at Eclipse Academy, the dynamic is entirely different. Leah is a strange, highly debated figure on this campus. To the students, she is a villainess. But to the faculty who read her academic records, she is a top-tier student who scores perfectly on her written and oral tes







