Chapter 5 Join the Werewolf Academy
ZURI
“Maybe you could fake a deadly contagious illness,” Nessa offered with a dramatic sigh the next day while I paced underneath a shaded veranda. “Something terrifying. Like... wolfpox. Or venomous heat.”
“That’s not a thing,” I muttered.
“Well, it could be. You’re strong,” Nessa smiled, wrapping both hands around my biceps. “Just start foaming at the mouth next time Torin visits.”
“Very regal,” I deadpanned.
“We could sneak you out of the territory,” offered Mira, the youngest of my attendants, wide-eyed and dead serious. “I know a smuggler near the eastern cliffs who once hid his entire family in barrels of pickled fish.”
“Pickled Zuri,” I said. “That’s how history will remember me.”
They all giggled. I didn’t. They wouldn’t if they knew what Torin tried last night. I didn’t want to tell anyone. Hell, I wished I could forget it myself. Just the thought made me shiver.
Leona, my most serious attendant, crossed her arms. “What you should do is go to the Werewolf Academy. The male heirs from stronger packs go all the time. They learn to lead. To fight. To negotiate. Real Alpha training.”
I blinked.
Then laughed once–bitter and sharp. “Yeah. Except Academy law says only males can attend.”
Leona’s mouth twisted. “It’s a stupid law.”
“Stupid laws are still enforced,” I muttered, standing and pacing. “Even if I tried to go, they’d block me at the gates before I could flash my first snarl.”
“But wouldn’t it be worth it?” Mira asked. “If you were trained, no one could force you to marry anyone. Not even Torin.”
I stopped pacing.
That word again. Force.
I looked out past the veranda, toward the mountains that separated us from the Academy. The place where the boys went to become true leaders.
“They wouldn’t even take me seriously,” I said, more to myself than them. “Not until I made them.”
The girls were silent. And for once, so was I.
Because maybe the idea wasn’t so ridiculous after all.
Later that afternoon, I pushed into my father’s war room, hands clenched behind my back. He sat alone, pouring over territory reports. His silver-streaked hair was tied back, face marked with the kind of exhaustion only Alphas wore–like carrying the entire world on his spine. But it didn’t soften me.
He looked up, startled. “Zuri. Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I’m not here to rest,” I said.
He studied me, no doubt noting the circles under my eyes, the way I stood stiffly. “Is this about last night’s engagement party?”
“In a way.”
I stepped forward until I stood directly across from him, hands folded in front of me like a diplomat at court.
“I want you to send me to the Werewolf Academy.”
He blinked, once. Twice. Then sat back slowly, steepling his fingers.
“Zuri–”
“I know what the laws say,” I cut in, gently but firmly. “Only males. Only heirs. Only future Alphas. But those laws were written before a she-wolf like me was born.”
He gave a quiet, warning sigh. “You’re talking rebellion.”
“I’m talking logic,” I said. “I’m talking strategy.”
A pause.
So I pressed forward. “You’ve seen what I can do. My wolf–she’s stronger than any in our bloodline. The Academy could help me control that strength. Refine it. Elevate it. I would return not just as the pack’s Luna, but as a trained, disciplined warrior. A more valuable mate to Torin–more desirable. A future Luna who could truly stand beside him, not behind. It might even help me… mature more.”
He didn’t respond. His jaw ticked.
But I wasn’t done.
“Or,” I continued, voice softer now, “maybe I will meet someone better at the Academy. A stronger Alpha from a more powerful bloodline. Someone whose alliance would offer our pack more protection than Torin ever could. And without the threat of being overtaken.”
His gaze flicked to mine, sharper now. I had his attention. I’d struck a nerve that mattered. Torin was a guaranteed monster. A known threat my father believed he could manage if they appeased him. But the idea of me choosing another Alpha? One stronger. Smarter. One who might see our struggling pack as one to align with, not ripe for claiming.
“I’m offering two possible outcomes. Both strengthen our pack.”
He didn’t say anything, but I saw it in the clench of his aw, the narrowing of his eyes, the way fear and ambition warred inside him. He stood and walked over to his window. The window I came to know was his thinking window. This was good. His silence dragged, but I didn’t interrupt. I let the weight of my words settle between us.
“You speak like a leader,” he finally said and a little bit of hope bloomed inside my chest. “And yet you still defy me like a child.”
And just like that it was gone, but I wasn’t ready to give up. Last night’s assault was still fresh in my mind. I wondered what he would say if I told him what Torin tried.
“I’m trying to save myself, Father,” I pleaded, “before there’s nothing left to save.”
He turned, eyes narrowing. “If this is about avoiding Torin—”
“It’s about avoiding annihilation,” I snapped. “Yours. Mine. The pack’s. Do you think Torin will be satisfied with me? With this territory? You saw what he did at the party. He treated those executions like gifts.”
My father’s expression darkened. For once, it looked like he agreed.
I softened my tone again. “You want to protect us. Let me give you more options to do that. Let me go. Let me show you I can be more than just leverage.”
He sighed, long and tired, rubbing his temples.
“I have made my decision,” he said, more to himself than to me. “Torin will return in three months.”
“And if I’m not here when he does?”
That made him freeze.
He turned slowly, staring at me like he no longer recognized the girl in front of him.
I didn’t flinch.
“You’ll be branded a traitor,” he said. “Your mother, the pack–”
“I’m not leaving, Father. I’m asking you to send me. Let me do this your way. Let me carry your name into that place and prove to them daughters can be just as powerful as sons.”
Another long silence.
“They can’t know you’re a woman, Zuri,” he said before looking at me. “One look at you and will you be turned away at the gates?”
I smiled–a real one this time. One my wolf shared. He wasn’t saying no.
“Let me worry about that.”