Snake Boots Academy 소설 & 이야기

"Your friends are not losers, Thorne. Also, it is impossible for you not to belong to any pack since werewolves move in packs. Not being in a pack makes you a rogue automatically, and you know what happens to rogues?" Of course, I was well aware of what happened to rogues. Packs of werewolves were trained to kill rogues at first sight—likewise, rogues. I didn't want to be in a pack, and I didn't want to be a rogue, either. "We're in an academy. I don't think not being in a pack should automatically make one a rogue. It shouldn't count, as it isn't even official. After graduation, we'll all leave here, and we won't be holding on to our titles anymore," I said.

“Only my father is at fault here. Not my pack.” “You lie! Your pack owes you protection. Seeing how your father maltreated you over the years, they should have stood by you. Here in my pack, we have a school of training for weak wolves to help them regain wolf strength.” “Is that so?” “Of course!” ‘How soon can I apply for admission?” “Now you are asking for two favours! My pack academy is not open to outsiders.” “I guess I’m asking for a lot then.” “Depends on what you can do for me.” Reon winked at me in playful delight.

Tommy demanded. "Since we go to Alpha Heirs Academy," Lucas said with the air of someone explaining something obvious. "It's a private school for pack families. We have standards." I'd forgotten that aspect of sending cubs to supernatural schools. The expectations, the politics, the fact that even five-year-olds were being groomed for pack leadership roles. "Compromises," I announced, making an executive decision. "Shirts tucked in for arrival at school. Once you're in class and doing activities, you can untuck them if your teacher allows it. Sound fair?"

“I got a scholarship to the werewolf anatomy academy. If that helps.” “That is wonderful, but it isn’t safe for you to go there, it is too close to their pack.” “Alpha Cameron is right. We have our own werewolf anatomy school near our pack. It actually belongs to our pack and our neighboring pack.” Kody tells her. “Our pack has some pull, we can get you in there when you’re ready.” “That’s fine I don’t care where I go to school as long as I can go.”

I grabbed one of the many towels around, and continued my run. Students had gathered round and they were shouting. I could also hear very intense growls, and as expected Lincoln was one of the two people. I jumped in to stop the fight, but I was shocked to see a beautiful wolf in Clawstone Academy. He had a navy blue wolf with white stripes all over. On the right side, the stripes were in the form of another wolf. It was one heck of a beautiful sight. The wolf growled again, and I realized it was Seth.

The Cove is a popular gathering place for the different shifter packs, the loosely related groups that form inside the larger werewolf community. The core six Underground members, plus any gang members that want to join, will form a pack after graduation, adding mates and members as time goes on. We’re a proto-pack, just beginning to form. The six of us plan to stay at Crescent, taking advantage of the performance facilities, art galleries, and University Press to showcase our work, getting jobs at the University, and mentoring young wolves. We’re already on academic paths to set us up when we graduate. We'll continue to run the Underground as a secret society for young werewolves.

To any wolf's nose, I would register as a bland, unremarkable male. I stepped out of the bathroom, and Marla nodded approvingly. "You make a convincing young man. Where will you go now?" "Alpha Academy," I replied, tucking my remaining cash into my pocket. "To register for the ice hockey tournament." "Bold," she remarked. "Or foolish." "Both, probably." I managed a thin smile. "Thank you for your help." Two hours later, I stood before the imposing gates of Alpha Academy, the premier training ground for male wolves across three territories. No one would think to look for Antalya Andrews here, in this bastion of masculine pride and power.

Her cheeks turn bright, burning red because a tiny five-winter-old pup just called her an old hag in front of the whole market. She has zero intention of letting my boots move down the aisle now, especially since my son's tongue just took a massive bite out of her pride. "We are sorting out this white leather shoe business right this second," Ayomide barks, crossing her arms over her chest and puffing her body up like a grand Alpha Queen. "These tracking shoes are a rare, limited-run print from the master seamstress Ada. Since your clumsy boot stepped flat on the toe and ruined the white skin, your paws aren't leaving this market border until you pay my basket back!"

She left me alone in the silence, the ghost of Ethan's kiss still burning on my lips. I dressed in my school uniform—a pleated skirt and a crisp white blouse that felt far too tight against my skin, as if my body was still humming from the memory of Ethan. I pulled my long hair back, trying to hide the slight swelling on my cheek where my mother had struck me, and headed out toward the academy. The Silver Moon Academy sat on a hill overlooking the pack lands, a sprawling complex of ancient stone buildings and modern glass wings. It was the premier institution for young wolves to learn control, history, and the complexities of their secondary genders.