The Apocalyptic Queen's Werewolf Journey (Thora and Darius) novel Chapter 34

**Chapter 34: Too Scared to Shoot?**

Thora’s POV:

As I scanned the group, my eyes landed on Caleb, and a wave of disgust washed over me. His presence was like a dark cloud, suffocating and unwelcome.

The moment our gazes met, his face contorted in a mirror of my own disdain. It was a classic instance of mutual loathing, a silent battle of wills that neither of us was willing to back down from.

Felix, ever the tactician, stepped forward just then, unwittingly placing himself between Caleb and me. He greeted the others with a casual air, “You guys done with training?” His voice was light, but I could sense the tension underneath.

Seizing the moment, I turned my attention away from Caleb, my eyes flitting over the other guys surrounding him. They were a mix of familiar faces and strangers, all heirs to werewolf military legacies, just like Felix.

In the time I had spent here, aside from coding, I had immersed myself in learning about this timeline, particularly the precarious state of the Astralis Empire. It was a world steeped in tradition and expectation, where the children of werewolf military families were groomed for combat from a tender age.

The training they received was rigorous, a necessary foundation for adapting to military operations once their wolf spirits awakened. By the time they reached eighteen, the age of their coming-of-age ceremony, they were expected to have their awakened wolf spirits under control. Yet, even then, they had to pass stringent military assessments before being transferred to prestigious military academies.

Hence, many of them were here, engaged in specialized training before they hit that critical age.

One of the guys, a tall, muscular figure with a curious gleam in his eyes, broke the silence. “Who’s this? I’ve never seen her before.”

Caleb, always eager to assert his dominance, wasted no time in chiming in. “Thora from Silverleaf Pack. An unawakened mixed-blood waste.” His words dripped with contempt, and I felt a flush of anger rise within me.

The crowd erupted into laughter, the sound harsh and mocking. “Oh, so she’s Thora. Does she think dressing like a guy will make her tough? Hahaha!”

Another chimed in, “Hahaha, being in an Alpha family and still not awakening her wolf. What a waste.”

I remained silent, my heart racing, but before I could gather my thoughts, Felix’s expression hardened. “Anyone who laughs at my sister again will answer to me!” His voice was low and dangerous, a protective growl that sent a ripple of unease through the group.

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by this unexpected display of loyalty from my younger brother.

The laughter died down, replaced by a palpable tension. Someone ventured cautiously, “Felix, didn’t you dislike this sister of yours? Why are you …”

Felix shot him a glare that could have silenced a room full of people. The guy quickly fell silent, as if realizing he had crossed an invisible line.

“Don’t get mad, man. We’re just joking around. If we upset you guys, we’ll apologize,” a more diplomatic member of the group interjected, attempting to diffuse the situation. With a clever pivot, he suggested, “Since everyone’s got time right now, how about we have a shooting competition?”

The suggestion ignited a spark of enthusiasm among the group.

“Yeah, sounds good!” they chorused, their youthful energy palpable.

It was clear they were all fired up at the thought of competition.

“If we’re competing, we should have stakes. Loser buys dinner tonight,” one of them proposed, and the group quickly agreed, the terms set without any objections from Felix.

As word of the competition spread, more trainees from nearby areas began to gather, their instructors looking on with mild interest.

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