ZURI

I stood in front of the mirror, turning slightly from side to side.

“Be honest,” I said, my voice a touch deeper now–strained, practiced. “How do I look?”

Mira let out a low whistle. “Like someone who could actually win a duel with their masculinity alone.”

Nessa clapped her hands. “I knew you’d make a beautiful boy.”

“I feel like I’ve been crushed by a dozen iron corsets,” I muttered, adjusting the tightly bound wrap across my chest. I couldn’t imagine how this would feel if my breasts were a size or two bigger.

“Almost done,” Leona said, then tugged the hem of my tunic down and stepped back, arms crossed. “The magic won’t hold forever. It’ll need to be reinforced every few days. And you can’t get too emotional–it’ll disrupt the glamour.”

“Perfect,” I said. “I’ll just be cold, calculating, and distant. Like a true Alpha a-hole.”

“That’s the spirit,” Nessa said, tears suddenly brimming in her eyes.

I turned to face them. My girls. My pack.

“Well?” I asked. “Does Zuri pass for Zion?”

They were quiet for a moment.

Then Mira smiled through her tears. “You’re gonna be the hottest boy at that Academy.”

Nessa threw herself into my arms next. “Come back stronger. And don’t fall in love with any of those smug future Alphas. Unless they’re really rich and have great hair.”

“I make no promises,” I whispered, hugging them tight. “Thank you. All of you.”

When I pulled back, Leona was already waiting at the door, her satchel over her shoulder and her expression grim.

“I still don’t know why I have to go?” she grumbled.

“Like you said, I have to reinforce every few days and since you made the glamour, no one else is better,” I smiled, throwing an arm over her shoulder. “Let’s go show those boys who’s boss.”

Leona, well now, Leon simply nodded with a slight smile. “You sure about this?” she added, her voice softer now, just for me.

“No,” I admitted. “But it’s better than becoming Torin’s broken Luna.”

Footsteps echoed down the corridor. I froze, still cloaked in my glamour, but Leona didn’t flinch. She tightened the strap of her satchel and stepped protectively in front of me.

The door swung open.

Warrior Kevi entered first, his gaze scanned the room and landed on me, but he didn’t flinch. Didn’t bow. Just gave a bored grunt. “I’m looking for Lady Zuri. Have you seen her?”

Time to practice. I deepened my voice. “Left a while ago. Heard she was heading to the stables.”

Kevi blinked slowly, giving me a suspicious once-over. “You’re new. What’s your name?”

Leona stepped in. “Zion. He’s… a cousin. Visiting from the Northern ridge.”

Kevi gave Leona a curious look. “And you are?”

“His servant,” Leona stated without hesitation. How was she so good at this? Werewolves should be able to tell if someone was lying. Was it part of the glamour?

“Whatever. Not my business. Just let Zuri know I’m looking for her,” Kevi said before leaving.

Then came my parents.

My father’s aura filled the space the moment he stepped in. My mother walked beside him, her eyes sharp as ever. I lowered my head respectfully and moved to step past them. But my mother caught my arm gently.

I flinched.

She narrowed her eyes. “Wait,” she said, voice too soft. “Look at me.”

She studied my face like it was a puzzle she’d solved a thousand times but was suddenly missing a piece.

“This one… looks familiar,” she murmured, then turned to my father. “Doesn’t he?”

My father’s eyes lit with approval as he looked me up and down. “Impressive. I’d almost believe you were one of the boys.”

“Almost?” I asked, letting my voice shift just enough.

That was the moment. Recognition flashed in my mother’s eyes like lightning across water. She sucked in a quiet breath.

“Zuri?” she whispered. “You… this is you?”

I nodded, lifting the edge of my tunic to reveal the wolf mark etched along my rib–one only family would know. My father’s face cracked into the rarest of expressions: pride.

“Remarkable,” he said. “With the glamour, the posture, even your gait... you could fool the entire Academy.”

But my mother… didn’t smile. She stepped forward slowly and cupped my jaw. “Something’s still off.”

I frowned. “What?”

She turned to my attendants. “The hair. It’s too neat. Too polished. No Alpha male would walk into that school with silky curls this long. They’d eat her alive.”

I blinked, then whimpered. My hair was my pride. “But… we already–”

Before I could argue, she pulled a chair near the hearth and pointed.

“Sit.” I obeyed because everyone obeyed that tone.

She removed the pins with nimble fingers, unraveling the neat coils Leona had worked on for hours. Her touch was rough but full of love, like a mother preparing her child for battle.

“We need texture,” she muttered. “Something with grit. Short. But with presence.”

With a blade from her belt and a jar of her favorite pomade, she sectioned my hair into thick, short two-strand twists that framed my face with just enough defiance. When she finished, she stood back, eyes misty but proud.

“There,” she said. “Now you look like a boy who could break bones and lead armies.”

My father reached out and clasped my shoulder. “Zion of Moonshade,” he said, trying out the name. “Make them remember it.”

I looked between them. My mother. My father. My future.

Then I stood tall.

And nodded.

A caravan pulled into the courtyard–two covered wagons with Moonshade’s crest stitched into the canvas, and a pair of riders already mounted and waiting. The girls had said their goodbyes earlier, each one quietly slipping tokens into my satchel. A lucky charm from Nessa. And a pouch of dried hawthorn berries from Mira.

My father stood tall, arms crossed over his chest, his jaw tight as he looked me over for the final time. “You’ll be traveling with trusted guards, but once you pass the Academy gates, you're on your own. No one from the pack will be able to protect you.”

“I understand,” I said, voice firm, low, practiced.

He gave a single nod. “Good. Then remember who you are. You carry the weight of this pack on your shoulders. You may wear a false name, but you will not bring shame to Moonshade.”

“I won’t,” I said. And meant it.

But his gaze didn’t soften. If anything, it sharpened. “Don’t let your act falter. One slip, one mistake, and they’ll tear you apart. And if they find out you’re a girl…” His voice trailed off, heavy with all the terrible possibilities he didn’t want to say aloud.

“I won’t be found out,” I said quietly.

He stepped forward and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Then return stronger than any of them.”

I nodded again. But this time, it trembled a little.

My mother didn’t speak at first, just pulled me into her arms and held me far tighter than she had last night, like if she let go now, she wouldn’t get another chance.

“Whatever happens,” she murmured into my hair, “don’t let them make you forget who you are inside.”

“I won’t,” I whispered.

She pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. “But you’ll still be a woman, Zuri. Even if they can’t see it. So… if your heat starts, or your scent shifts, or–”

“I know,” I said quickly, cheeks burning.

She gave me a look–equal parts mother and wolf that said you don’t know half of it. “Just… be prepared. It’s dangerous enough pretending to be a boy. But pretending you don’t have heats? That could cost you everything.”

She reached into the folds of her cloak and handed me a small cloth bundle, soft and herbal-scented. “There’s tea in here. Potent. It should hold off your heat. Just steep it every full moon. Leona knows how.”

“Thank you,” I said, suddenly too full of emotion to say more.

She kissed my forehead, her hand lingering on my cheek. “Come back whole. Come back safe.”

The caravan driver called out that it was time to move.

I climbed into the carriage with Leona at my side. The canvas flap lowered, and the world outside narrowed to shadows and swaying light.

The gates of Moonshade drew further behind us, I let the persona of Zion settle around me like armor. I placed my mother’s package carefully to the side, but felt something solid tucked beneath the sachet of herbs.

Curious, I unfolded the cloth bundle further and there it was. A slender dagger with a carved bone hilt, cool and familiar in my hand. Tied to it was a scrap of parchment. Laced with a sleeping potion. Just in case you get a visitor at night. I stared at the note.

Mother.

Halfway through the journey the caravan came to an abrupt stop.

“Are we here?” I asked, looking out the window.

That’s when it hit me. The unmistakable scent–rotten to the core. My breath hitched and I looked at Leona.

“Rogues!”