The Luna's Shadow Rejects Her Alpha

During the lunch break, the Moonlight Pack’s training hall was nearly empty. I sat at one of the long wooden tables, picking at my sandwich while trying to make sense of the combat strategy problems in front of me. Next to me sat another packed meal—pulled pork and a marinated chicken drumstick, now cold. It had taken forever to get that from the pack kitchen, but Anastasia, the Beta from the Nightshade Pack, had refused to eat it, so Alpha Dax had taken her to a nearby diner instead.

Today’s meal tasted bitter, and it was hard to focus on my work.

“Why the tears? Stop being such a crybaby.”

A pair of long, slender hands tapped on the table, followed by a packet of tissues and a box of spiced honey cake. I looked up to see Edgar Wheeler, pulling a medal from his messenger bag and placing it in front of me.

Elite Warrior Trials Gold Medal...

“Edgar, you’re back?”

I grabbed a couple of tissues to quickly wipe away the tears on my face, surprised by his sudden appearance. Edgar had been my classmate during our early training years, but he’d transferred to the advanced combat group in our senior year. For the first half of the year, he’d been away at the Crimson Howl Pack’s elite warrior training camp, so I hadn’t seen him much.

Today, he wore a black hoodie with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing toned forearms. He seemed a bit more mature, his presence calm yet commanding.

“If I didn’t come back, wouldn’t Alpha Dax just torment you endlessly?”

“I’m going to start tutoring you in combat strategies today.”

Edgar pulled out the chair next to me and sat down uninvited. He took the practice book that was lying beside me and, with his agile fingers, started marking it with a red pen. Hearing Alpha Dax’s name, I sniffed in frustration.

“N-no need.”

Seeing more and more red Xs spread across the pages of my workbook, I felt a bit embarrassed and wanted to decline his offer. But Edgar was straightforward and efficient, diving right into explaining the problems after finishing his corrections.

“You used the wrong approach for this maneuver...”

His voice was low, yet clear and engaging. Unlike Alpha Dax’s methodical style, Edgar’s approach to combat strategies was lively and intriguing. Before long, the scratch paper was covered in his neat notes.

I had to focus and keep up with his explanations. Once I corrected my mistakes, I noticed that Edgar had finished off the box of pulled pork, clearly enjoying it.

Thinking back, I realized we weren’t all that close. Maybe he’s just the kind of person who’s helpful when packmates need it. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of gratitude. In a pack where I often felt like an outsider, Edgar’s quiet support was a rare comfort.