The Alpha’s Forgotten Daughter Chapter 05
Three hours later, my flight touched down in Moonlight City–the central territory of the United Wolf Packs, two thousand miles from home.
The moment I stepped out of the terminal, dry wind swept over me.
I drew a deep breath and felt like eighteen years of
stale, toxic air had finally been purged from my chest.
The United Wolf Packs Alpha Academy shuttle was already waiting.
As the top academy in all the wolf territories, everyone here radiated energy and drive.
I breezed through every check–in step without a hitch.
The dorm was bright and clean. I picked up my
bedding, made my bunk with crisp efficiency, and had
just stacked a few textbooks on the desk when my phone started vibrating like a maniac.
I pulled it out. The screen was flooded with notifications from the “Reed Family Forever” group chat.
Ethan had sent three voice messages, followed by a text barrage: [Claire, where the hell are you? Maya’s bed is all set. Where are you?]
[You were supposed to go straight to Alpha Academy after check–in and help Maya unpack. Are you seriously blowing this off?]
Mom chimed in: [Maya wants a strawberry açaí from Starbucks. Get two and bring them to her dorm.
Now. She’s wiped out from registration. Don’t make her wait.]
Dad delivered the final decree: [Stop stalling. If
you’re not at Maya’s dorm in thirty minutes, you can kiss your tuition money goodbye this semester.]
I stared at the scrolling messages, ice–cold.
Every command was delivered like scripture–as if
I was born to be Maya’s personal wolf–servant.
Not once had any of them asked if I’d finished my
own registration.
I let the corner of my mouth tug upward, tapped
the screen, and muted the group chat for good. Then I opened my contacts and renamed them all. No more Mom, Dad, or Ethan. Just Luna Olivia. Alpha Julian.
Ethan Reed.
No more Mom, Dad, or brother.
I blocked their Mindlink while I was at it.
Done. I flipped the phone face–down on the desk, and the world went blessedly silent.
That prison calling itself family had erased me, and I had zero interest in crawling back.
The following two weeks, I absorbed everything this new campus had to offer like a dry sponge.
I signed up as an orientation volunteer, and with a senior’s recommendation, I landed two well–paid combat tutoring side gigs.
max.
Classes and work crammed my schedule to the
I moved non–stop between lecture halls, the training grounds, and off–campus tutoring centers.
My body was tired, but watching the numbers in
my bank account inch up made me feel more grounded than I’d ever been.
Two weeks in, after a tutoring session, I used my first paycheck to buy a steaming plate of pork ribs at the dining hall.
I’d just sat down in my dorm when my advisor’s email notification popped up: [Students, the enrollment verification system is now live. Please log into the student portal tonight to confirm your enrollment status.]
I bit into a rib and casually picked up my still–flashing phone.
The moment I unlocked it, a text bypassed my silenced group chats and forced itself onto my screen:
[Claire Reed, you’ve got some nerve. We checked the local Omega Academy records–your name isn’t there.
Where the hell are you?! And you blocked your own Mindlink!]