Semua Bab Assassin of Alpha Academy: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Lyra’s POV The weekend had gone by in a blur. Amber became a fast friend of Rowan and me, leaving any little doubt about her intentions towards us as a werewolf out the window. Girls' night had been a blast, and we'd both fallen asleep on top of spilled junk food that had somehow managed to get stuck in every inch of our hair. I still think I have popcorn kernels stuck in my hair. Rowan had put up with our antics, and he eventually gave in, letting Amber give us a proper tour of the Academy and everything it offered. We found an indoor swimming pool, so on Sunday we reserved a time slot and spent two full hours swimming and splashing around. Honestly, it had been one of the best weekends of my life. But at the end of the day, the reason I was here was always at the back of my head, nagging me for action. If we didn't fulfill this mission, humanity would be lost. We could not let them come to power, and I'd do anything to stop them. So here I am now sitting next to Amber at our sh

Anonymous POV I watched everything. I watched everyone. That was my job, to be invisible. And damned if I wasn't good at my job. Rourke gave Lyra and Rowan information on how to get in touch with me, but little did they know it was just a drop-off point. No one ever sees my face and lives. I've spent the past five years gathering information. Sneaking between Aurelia, the Academy, and the three main packs like a ghost, never been detected. I'd describe it more as a shadow on the wall. As Lyra and Rowan were trained to kill, I was trained to be invisible. You'd never notice me unless I gave you the pleasure of seeing me. Sitting on the roof was not the most comfortable position, especially with the snow falling around me. But my mission was clear for now: follow and record the actions and movements of Stefan, the evil mastermind behind the massacre at Tanner’s Bluff. It doesn't shock me that Leon brought him back to the Academy. They've been thick as thieves for decades

Amber’s POVI swear to the fucking Moon Goddess I will shave every single inch of my hair off if one more strand falls in my face! For the ninth time this evening, as I was practicing suturing in my dorm room. Advanced Healing 2 wasn't for the faint of heart, and with it already being the second week, they've thrown the book at us. I've treated my first human and, in hindsight, gained a friend. I've treated burned wolves and observed the different speeds of healing in an Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Omega. It's all been so fascinating! “Damn it,” I screech as I pricked my finger with the suture needle. “I guess that's what I get for not paying attention,” I sighed as I stuck my finger in my mouth, already knowing that my wolf had healed it like two seconds after it was pricked. I guess there were some benefits of being a werewolf.I put the suturing kit in the drawer of my bedside table, knowing I'll come back for it in a few hours. But now, fuck, now I just needed to relax, I needed to b

Lyra’s POV By Saturday morning, I was one lecture away from stabbing Professor Lunatic with my own pencil. The week had been an endless cycle of classes, combat training, and the ridiculous group project he’d dumped on us. Thankfully, we’d finished it the night before over greasy pizza and cheap beer, which meant today was ours. Saturday was the only day students were allowed outside the Academy gates, each of us given a day pass from nine in the morning until nine at night. Our destination was Ravenmere—the small village bordering campus. I’d never stepped foot inside a werewolf-controlled village before. Alpha Leon had assured Rowan and me that Ravenmere was perfectly safe for students. Safe. Right. I adjusted the twin blades hidden beneath my jacket and rolled my shoulders. I hadn’t survived this long by trusting anyone else’s definition of safe. Unlike Rowan and me, Amber had been practically vibrating with excitement about today all week. Of course she had. Ravenmere wasn’t

Lyra’s POVRowan stopped outside the bakery like it was just another stop on a route.He took a last drag from his cigarette, slow, controlled, like he didn’t care about it at all. Then he stubbed it out on his shoe and dropped it into the trash-and-ash tray by the door.He lingered half a second before going in.I noticed anyway.We followed him inside.Amber didn’t hesitate at all. She was already halfway to the counter like she belonged there.The café area was in the back—small tables, warm lighting, quiet voices, the smell of sugar and butter so strong it hit immediately.Rowan slid into a booth first, stretching out like he was relaxed, even though his eyes were already moving around the room.I sat across from him.Amber dropped into the seat beside us. “Okay. This place is dangerous.”Rowan glanced at her. “It’s a bakery.”“Exactly,” she said. “Dangerous.”A w