People love to talk about alpha males in shifter fiction like it’s all ripped torsos and growly dominance, but if you’ve ever actually written one, you know it’s not that simple. Or at least, it shouldn’t be. In Moonshifter Academy, I didn’t want to just slap a label on a character and call it done. Alpha, beta, chaos…those roles are real, sure, but they’re messy and human (even when your characters are literally not human).
Let’s start with Kat. She’s supposed to be this mythical, last-of-her-kind wolf-shifter. She’s powerful, she’s got status… and yet she spends a good portion of the series unsure she’s up to the task. That’s what made her interesting to write. Being alpha doesn’t mean you automatically know how to lead a pack, especially when you’re dropped into a magical academy surrounded by dragons, vampires, blood mages, and enough secrets to fuel an entire therapist’s career. Power doesn’t come pre-installed with confidence.
And then there’s the question of who’s really in control. Readers often assume the alpha leads, the beta follows, and chaos is… just there to stir things up. But I love writing characters who don’t fit into those boxes so cleanly. Eddie’s a protector. He’s steady, loyal, dependable. Yes, your classic alpha material. But he doesn’t push to be the leader. Artemon is quieter, strategic, and often the one who sees what’s really going on, which makes him just as powerful in his own way. And Fennel? Chaos incarnate. He’s unpredictable, he’s infuriating, and he has this knack for showing up exactly when everything’s falling apart, not to fix things, but to force everyone else to face the truth.
That’s the thing: chaos characters aren’t just comic relief or agents of destruction. They’re often the ones who catalyze growth. When everything’s too structured, too predictable, chaos throws in the wrench that makes people reveal who they really are. Fennel does that constantly. Whether it’s challenging Kat in ways that make her stronger or dragging secrets into the light that no one else wants to face, he’s essential.
The fun part as a writer is using those roles to subvert reader expectations. What happens when the supposed alpha breaks under pressure? When the beta refuses to clean up the mess? When the chaos figure is the only one with clarity in the moment? Those are the scenes that breathe.
By book three (Shadow Wolf), Kat has stepped into a formal leadership role, but the weight of that title is… a lot. She’s the youngest headmistress the academy’s ever had. She’s still figuring out what kind of leader she wants to be, and sometimes she fails. Gloriously. She second-guesses herself. She hesitates. And sometimes she has to be dragged kicking and screaming into her own power. That’s what makes her human.
I think readers crave that realism, even in fantasy. They want to see characters who struggle with the same insecurities and questions they do—who am I in this group? Where do I fit? Am I strong enough to carry this? Do I even want to? We all have moments of feeling like we’re supposed to lead but really just want to crawl under a blanket and let someone else take over for five minutes. That’s why a reluctant alpha or an anxious one feels more real than someone who just growls and takes charge.
I also love flipping the script entirely. What if the hierarchy isn’t fixed? What if power flows and shifts depending on the moment, the threat, the emotional state of the characters? There are moments in the series when Eddie or Artemon clearly should be in charge, even if they aren’t officially. And there are times when Kat has to step back and let them lead—not because she’s weak, but because she’s smart enough to know when she’s out of her depth.
And honestly, sometimes Fennel’s chaos magic is the only thing keeping the whole crew from imploding!
So yeah, shifter hierarchies are more than just tropes. They’re a lens for exploring how people—packs, friend groups, found families—function under pressure. How they adapt. How they survive. That’s what Moonshifter Academy is really about at its core: how these young, powerful, deeply flawed people come together, clash, shift roles, and grow into something bigger than themselves.
If you’ve got a favorite alpha meltdown scene or a beta quietly saving the day moment, I want to hear about it. Bonus points if you’ve got a chaos character who accidentally solved a major plot point. Those are the gold.
And if you haven’t met Kat and her motley crew yet, The Last Wolf is a great place to start. Just be warned: this isn’t your usual dominance-fueled fantasy. Things get weird, emotional, magical—and way more human than you’d expect from a story about wolves.
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