All Chapters of Luna At Alpha Academy: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

“Eldon? What are you doing here?” Phineas’s voice cuts through the thud of fists against sandbags. “I was walking around,” I say, shrugging. “Decided to stop by.” “That’s great. You can watch us train—I have to get back.” “Sure. No problem.” As I move toward the benches, I can feel eyes tracking me. I spot Roman working a sandbag alone, every strike sending tremors through the frame. The rest are either sprawled in rest or locked in sparring matches. The training hall is as wide as a basketball court, and every inch hums with dominance. At least twenty Level A Alphas are here. The old me—the cursed, weak me—would’ve been fighting for breath in this room. Now, with Ezra integrated and the curse gone, I can hold my own. Barely. Though Ezra says this is just the tip of the iceberg. After thirty minutes in this pressure cooker, getting clipped by stray blasts of Alpha power, my head starts to spin. Yeah… they’re A for a reason. “Any longer and you’d pass out,” a voice says besi

“Aren’t you supposed to declare your attempt? You have two weeks until the end of the month,” Ezra says the moment I open my eyes. I rub my temples, my voice coming out rough. “Ezra… should I just give up? I haven’t made it past twenty-three percent. My wolf’s still at level twelve. What am I even doing?” His silence makes my stomach tighten. “I thought this would be easier,” he admits. “But there’s a limit to what you can teach yourself. Especially when your colleagues won’t even spar with you.” I groan and flop back onto the bed, yanking the blanket over my head. “I’m going for a walk before my brain melts.” - The air outside is cool and still, tinted with the soft gray light of early morning. I’ve gotten so used to waking at six—washing up, drying my hair, preparing for the day—that even now, with no reason to rush, my body refuses to sleep in. The trees sway lazily in the breeze. I pull my sweater tighter around me as I drift off the cobbled path, letting my feet carry me t

“Get up, Eldon. If you have time to rest, you have time to train.” Professor Sloane’s voice cuts through the trees like a whip. She’s perched on a branch above me, swinging her legs and looking far too comfortable for someone who’s been making me suffer all morning. She is in another gorgeous gym wear set that I really want to ask her where she got it from but I’m occupied right now. “Oh my goodness,” I groan, clutching my stomach. “This is torture.” My words dissolve into a dry heave. “Let’s go! Make me come down there and we’ll start from the top again.” “What?!” I drag myself onto all fours, grabbing a tree for balance. My legs feel shredded from the endless sprints and brutal long jumps she’s been putting me through. Every time my muscles tear, they stitch themselves back together—my regeneration working overtime—which, unfortunately for me, means she can push me further than she ever could a normal werewolf. The first time she realized that, I saw the flash of mischief in he

When Joseph explodes from the tree line, I track his movement with the help of Ezra. The hand hidden under my shirt is completely healed, and I pivot sharply on my heels, channeling every ounce of strength from my thirty percent integration with Ezra into my arm, packing my blow with crushing pressure. My fist connects with his face before he even finishes his leap. Bone meets bone with a deafening crack, and his body rockets back into the trees, snapping branches in his wake. I don’t waste a second. High Heal. My skin knits, my ribs shift back into place, and the deep ache in my muscles burns away. By the time he stops rolling, I’m already on my feet, rolling my shoulders, weight light on my heels. ‘Ezra,’ I breathe inwardly, lowering my stance. ‘Let’s show him the hell Professor Sloane has put me through.’ His chuckle rings in my head. ‘Ready when you are.’ Joseph emerges from the shadows, jaw snapping back into place with a sickening pop. His grin is too wide. “So you’ve b

PROFESSOR SLOANE’S POV DAY ONE TRAINING “Do you know any fighting styles?” I ask, tilting my head, watching him with narrowed eyes to gauge where we’ll start. He shifts his weight, scratching the back of his neck. “Just the things they teach at combat training.” “That’s not good enough.” My tone comes out sharper than I intended, but I don’t soften it. “If everyone knows your tricks, they’ll counter and overpower you easily.” I push off the tree I’d been leaning on and stroll toward him, slow, deliberate steps crunching the leaves. “Let me show you what I mean.” He reacts instantly, feet sliding apart, knees bent, hands up in a stance so textbook it’s almost laughable. Eyes locked straight ahead. Every motion screams academy standard. The academy’s training might be exceptional, but when everyone knows it, it becomes a predictable death sentence. “Come at me.” He lunges forward without hesitation. Three moves later, he’s flat on his back, leaves in his hair. “Isn’t this just