Alpha Xander's Undoing Chasing my Unknown Mate Back novel Chapter 137

Imperial 137 Summary

Rory arrives at the Academy and is struck by how quickly the place has transformed from a war-torn battlefield into a lively center of learning. The sounds of laughter and sparring fill the air, and the once-damaged walls have been carefully repaired. The atmosphere is one of hope and renewal, a stark contrast to the recent past filled with smoke and blood.

In the courtyard, Vallin addresses the first-year students with a firm declaration of equality and discipline, warning that anyone who refuses to accept this will be expelled. Rory observes the students practicing elemental control with quiet mastery, emphasizing the importance of breath control in their training. Despite feeling unsure about teaching, Rory steps into the role with support from Vallin and a comforting presence from Zerina, who offers a steadying warmth.

As Rory guides the students through grounding exercises, they notice Xander working nearby, effortlessly lifting a heavy stone slab and catching Rory’s attention with a playful grin. The interaction between Rory and Xander brings a flutter of excitement, lightening the mood. The Academy feels alive again, filled with energy, laughter, and a sense of community as Dhara and Castor join in, helping younger students and sharing their steady confidence.

After class, a casual gathering forms around tables of food and music, highlighting the Academy’s growing spirit of camaraderie. Xander expresses admiration for Rory’s teaching, encouraging them to trust their instincts. Their tender moment together, surrounded by the vibrant life of the Academy, symbolizes a hopeful future. Rory allows themselves to believe in this new beginning, feeling the warmth of Zerina’s presence and the promise of what lies ahead.

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Chapter 137

Rory

It caught me off guard how swiftly the Academy, once a war-torn battlefield, began to sound like a place of learning again.

Before I even reached the main steps, laughter floated up from the lower yard, carried on a gentle breeze that had once only borne warnings. The sharp squeal that followed a heavy thud told me someone was sparring poorly, and a moment later, Mona’s voice rang out—half encouragement, half insult, as usual. The walls, once shattered, blackened, or blown apart, had been carefully patched with fresh stone. Some repairs were neat and precise; others less so, but they all held firm.

Everything was holding together.

I adjusted the stack of papers tucked under my arm and continued forward, inhaling the mingled scents of pine and chalk dust. Not long ago, this place had been thick with smoke and blood, but now, it smelled of hope and fresh starts.

Down in the courtyard, Vallin stood elevated on a slate platform, addressing a group of first-year students. His voice was steady and commanding, the kind that made you straighten your posture even if you didn’t fully grasp his words.

“Starting today,” he declared, “every wolf under this roof will receive equal instruction, equal access to training, and equal respect. Any student who refuses to accept this will be expelled. Permanently.”

No one dared to argue. They knew better. Vallin’s reputation had grown so large it overshadowed even the tower behind him, and the last time someone had mouthed off, Vallin had calmly escorted the boy to the gates, suggesting he “find an institution better suited to small minds.”

That story had spread like wildfire.

I passed the group, exchanging quick nods with a few students who still regarded me warily, as if I might burst into cosmic flames if startled. They were more at ease than before, but the pedestal I stood on still made me want to shrink away. I hadn’t saved the world alone—Zerina had helped me hold it together long enough to keep it from falling apart.

But I suppose people prefer symbols over explanations.

The training field was already alive with energy when I stepped onto it. Students dotted the outer edges, stretching and chatting animatedly. A small group of gifted wolves practiced subtle elemental control—not flashy displays, but the quiet mastery Vallin always emphasized first. A water-wielder lifted droplets from a bucket, forming glowing orbs that hovered gently in the air. A Syren wolf adjusted the temperature around her palms, the air shimmering softly. A ground-shifter hummed low, stirring dust into a delicate swirl at his feet.

I set my papers down on a wooden crate beside me. “Alright, everyone,” I called out, trying to sound more confident than I felt, “today we’ll focus on breath control. You can have all the power in the world, but if you can’t breathe through it, you’ll end up setting your eyebrows on fire.”

“And that’s not as funny as Mona makes it sound,” I added with a smirk.

Mona saluted from the back row, grinning like she’d just scored a victory.

A few students chuckled, loosening the tight knot in my chest. Teaching wasn’t something I’d pictured for myself, but Vallin insisted the gifted needed someone who understood both chaos and discipline. I tried to protest that I was still figuring it out myself, but he said that was precisely why I should teach—because I wouldn’t pretend to have all the answers.

I took a deep breath, feeling a faint but steady warmth beneath my sternum. Zerina didn’t speak as much as she used to, but sometimes her presence brushed against mine, soft and reassuring like fur. That warmth was balance now—not a hurricane, not a firestorm—but something steady, patient, whole.

“We’ll start with grounding,” I explained. “Not literal grounding for the earth wolves—though please, stop causing small earthquakes during class—but grounding your center.”

Someone snorted. I was pretty sure it was Cora. Definitely Cora.

I guided them through the motions: feet firmly planted, breath steady, energy tracing a line down the spine before easing outward. I didn’t need to use magic; elemental wolves respond first to intent, then to power. They could tell the difference between a command and an invitation.

As I moved between rows, adjusting a shoulder here, correcting a stance there, my eyes caught Xander against the far wall. Shirtless, of course, his muscles flexing as he lifted a massive stone slab alongside two third-years who looked like they might pass out from excitement. He coached their grip, shifted the weight with practiced ease, then stepped back so they could carry it the rest of the way.

He looked incredible. It was unfair, honestly, because I was trying to teach and he was making it nearly impossible to focus.

He glanced over, caught me staring, and the grin he shot my way made my stomach flutter. I rolled my eyes, but it was half-hearted, and he knew it. His eyebrow lifted just enough to promise he’d come find me after class.

My heart skipped a beat, that familiar flutter stirring inside me.

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