The Lunaris Academy application form stared back at her, demanding answers she wasn’t sure she had. The only reason she was even considering filling it out was the slim chance that it might get her a scholarship to a university.
Right now, university education was a privilege only the elite could afford. If she somehow managed to get into Lunaris Academy and come out on top, she could escape this life. She could become someone different-someone who didn’t have to live in a trailer and avoid eye contact with the wrong people.
As she chewed, she reached the question, “if you have any special skills, state them.”
Violet paused, staring at the words thoughtfully. What special skills did she have? Surviving? Avoiding fights? Violet tapped her pen against the table, lost in thought, when the front door creaked open.
“Welcome home-” But the rest of her words trailed off as Nancy entered, a huge, burly guy following closely behind her. The sight of him made Violet’s stomach churn.
She snapped.
“You promised me you’d take your business elsewhere,” Violet said, her voice sharp with outrage. “Why is he here?” She pointed an accusing finger at the man, her face twisting in disgust.
Nancy rolled her eyes, shrugging off Violet’s protest. “Promises don’t put food on the table. I’ve got work to do.”
Her gaze fell on the application form, and a laugh escaped her lips. “Is that a Lunaris Academy form? Good for you. Just try hard to get in, and your life will get better. If it gets harder to land a guy, remember what I taught you. Just give his dick a good suck, and he’ll be putty in your hands. You two could end up together, giving birth to beautiful werewolf babies. What a lucky bitch you are, Violet.”
The blood drained from Violet’s face as her mother’s words sunk in. Her stomach twisted, rage boiling beneath her skin, and her hands trembled. She had never felt so humiliated, so utterly exposed. Nancy didn’t care. She never had.
Hot tears burned in Violet’s eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I should have known,” she said, her voice thick with bitterness. “You were never one to keep your promises.”
“Oh, please,” Nancy scoffed, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag. “I’m doing what I can to survive. What I do is the reason you eat and go to school, so don’t act so high and mighty. Now, if you don’t mind, I need the trailer for a few hours.” She smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Unless, of course, you want to stay and learn a thing or two.”
Disgust curled deep in Violet’s gut. She pushed past her mother, glaring at the man, who leered at her as she passed. The urge to scream, to break something, clawed at her, but instead, she stormed out of the trailer, slamming the door behind her.
Once outside, Violet’s tears spilled over. She wiped them away furiously, her chest heaving with a mixture of shame and anger. She spotted some of the neighborhood kids waving at her, calling her over, but she couldn’t face them. She didn’t want anyone to see her like this, broken, vulnerable.
Without a word, she headed for the woods behind the trailer park. It was the one place she could be alone, away from the ugliness of her world. She found a fallen log and sat down, her hands shaking as she pulled the form from her pocket. Her vision blurred with tears, but she stared at the section asking for her special skills, her anger bubbling to the surface.
With a savage burst of fury, Violet scribbled her response:
Special skills:
1. Sucking a dick.
2. Giving A Mean Lap Dance
3. Wait till you see Me in bed.
It felt oddly therapeutic to put those words down, even if she knew there was no way they would accept her. Fuck this messed up world. Fuck Nancy. Fuck Lunaris Academy.
She was done.
“Good morning, Principal Jameson,” students echoed in the hallway as they passed the austere middle-aged woman, whose heels resounded sharply against the marble floor with a steady click-clack.
“Good morning. Good morning,” Principal Jameson answered enthusiastically, her hawk-like eyes sweeping over the students, always on the lookout for any defaulters of the academy’s rules. And today, she found more than enough.
A female student was pinned against a locker, her legs wrapped around a male student as they engaged in a passionate kiss. His hands gripped her butt as he ground against her in full view of the hundreds of students passing by. The sight was so inappropriate for an institution of learning that Principal Jameson’s face flushed with anger and embarrassment.
Despite her anger, Principal Jameson approached them calmly, knocking lightly on the locker next to them to get their attention.
But they didn’t budge. Or rather, they pretended not to hear her, the girl moaning louder, almost deliberately, as if to provoke her further.
“Alright, that’s enough!” Principal Jameson banged her fist on the locker, finally breaking them apart. The girl was the first to look up, her face painted with fake surprise.
“I didn’t know you were here, Principal Jameson,” she lied through her sparkling white teeth, still catching her breath.
The girl was Amanda Raynes, one of the rich, entitled humans. A brat she had to deal with every day.
“I bet you didn’t,” Jameson said coldly, “Not when your tongue was shoved down his throat.” She glanced at the red-haired boy beside her, Griffin Hale, who had yet to say a word.
Amanda giggled, her eyes flashing with amusement. “It was a good ‘shove,’ though,” she teased, casting a sultry look at Griffin.
Jameson flushed with barely contained fury but tried to maintain her composure as she turned to Griffin Hale, a brute standing at six foot two. He was just a kid but was built like a bodybuilder, an edge his werewolf lineage had given him.
Not just that, he was a “special” werewolf. Despite being a student, Griffin Hale carried the aura of someone who could snap you in half if he wanted.
“Mr. Hale,” she said, her voice tight, “isn’t it a little early for public displays of affection in the middle of the hallway?”
His response was a low, menacing growl. “Fuck off!”
Jameson recoiled, losing her composure for a moment. She wasn’t used to being spoken to like that.
Before she could recover, Griffin continued, “Next time you interrupt me, you better be ready to offer yourself up.”
“Mr. Hale!” Principal Jameson gasped, her face reddening in both fury and embarrassment. “That is an entirely inappropriate comment toward your principal!”
She glanced around, hoping no other students had heard, but of course, it was impossible in a school full of werewolves with heightened senses. Everyone was staring, and she knew this incident would be all over the academy’s gossip forums by the end of the day. To make matters worse, Griffin had already turned his back on her and was walking away.
Desperate to reassert her authority, she shouted, “That’s a hundred points deducted for inappropriate behavior, Mr. Hale!”
Griffin didn’t even look back, he simply raised a middle finger in response, eliciting laughter from the surrounding students.
“Two hundred points, then!” she snapped, but the punishment seemed meaningless. His arrogance was unbearable, and the students’ laughter only deepened her frustration.
This time, Griffin turned around and made a crude gesture, forming a circle with one hand and inserting his finger through it. The vulgar sign sent waves of laughter through the crowd.
Principal Jameson’s face burned with humiliation. She wanted to shout more, to hurl further punishment at him, but the sight of students recording the scene on their phones forced her to reconsider.
Trying to salvage what little authority she had left, she turned to the group watching and announced, “Twenty points deducted, each.”
Their groans brought her a sliver of satisfaction. Although it was a hollow victory. Deep down, Jameson knew the truth: she might have power over some of these students, but not all of them-certainly not the cardinal alphas. They were the kings of the academy, and she was little more than a puppet, trying to manage the chaos beneath them. Her authority only stretched so far.
As if to remind her of this reality, Roman Draven, another cardinal alpha, came hurtling down the hallway on a skateboard, shouting, “Incoming!”
Students scattered out of his way, screaming as he sped past. Even Jameson was forced to step aside, her carefully styled hair whipped by the rush of air as he zoomed by.
“That’s it!” she snapped, her temper finally breaking. “Two hundred points for an unsanctioned ride in the hallway, Mr. Draven!”
But Roman did not care. He just laughed, riding away without a care in the world, the sound echoing through the hallway.
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