THE TRIAL OF THE ALPHA
THE TRIAL OF THE ALPHA
THANE’S POV
You’d think after burying your father, the world might give you a damn second to breathe.
Nope. Not in this pack. Not in this life.
The council wastes no time.
It starts with whispers in the hallway. By noon, they’re full-blown arguments in the main room. Wolves snapping at each other across the living room like politics is a blood sport. Which, let’s be honest, it kind of is.
“He already did the trial months ago,” someone says.
“That was under Nadira’s curse! Doesn’t count.”
“He has already done it though! He would know how to handle this one too.”
“So what? You think we should just hand him the title because of his last name?”
I lean against the wall, arms folded, silent. Watching. Listening. Letting them argue, because at this point, it’s better if they wear themselves out.
Ayla’s next to me, but she’s quiet too. Every now and then I catch her glancing at me, like she’s trying to read me. Like she’s looking for cracks.
There’s a lot of them.
I’m tired. I’m raw. I just buried my father and now I have to fight for the right to take his place. It should feel wrong, but it doesn’t.
It feels like this was always coming.
Suddenly, Marcus, the same old bastard from yesterday, slams his hand down on the table. “Enough.”
Everyone shuts up. And I am still trying to understand what theya re all her, in this meeting. This concerns my pack, and the people within it. Why are they allowing outsiders in.
Power. They want power. And land. And my pack can give them that. Fucking vultures.
His eyes find mine. “You want to be Alpha? Fine. Then prove it.”
“I already did.”
“You want the pack to follow you without question?” he asks, ignoring me. “Then face the ancient trial.”
And just like that… the whole room changes.
People look at each other. Some frown. Some sit back like he just said a slur. Others look kind of impressed, like they want to see if I’ll back down.
I straighten. “You’re serious?”
He nods. “The Old Trial. The one used when there’s more than one challenger. When a leader dies before a successor is chosen.”
“Those trials are dangerous,” someone mutters.
“They were made for legends,” another agrees.
“Exactly,” Marcus says. “Let’s see if he’s one of them.”
“But… it's only down when there are more than two contenders.”
And that’s when the two others step forward.
One is from a bordering pack. Alpha Garreth. Big guy. Thick neck. Too smug for my liking. I’ve met him before, he’s the type who talks about loyalty with a hand on his knife. I still don't know why the fuck he stayed.
The other? I didn’t even realize he was still alive.
Zane. Rogue leader. Scarred jaw. Grey in his beard. His pack used to raid ours back in the day. Now he’s standing here like he belongs.
“I want in,” Garreth says. “You are weak. You abandoned your people. I can lead them better.”
“I second that,” Zane says. “Your wolves are scattered. They need someone who knows how to command loyalty.”
I glance at Ayla. Her whole body stiffens. She’s not even trying to hide the anger on her face.
I don’t even blink. “Then bring it.”
Later, when the house is quiet again, I’m on the porch.
Ayla’s pacing. She’s been pacing for five full minutes, hands shoved deep in her hoodie pockets.
“This isn’t fair,” she mutters. “You already proved yourself.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
I look at her. “You worried?”
She stops. Turns. Looks at me like I just asked if the sky was blue.
“Of course I’m worried. Thane, this trial, it’s not a normal fight. It’s not just fists and blood. It’s designed to break you. Mentally. Physically. They used it for wolves who were practically myths.”
I smirk. “So you think I’m not mythical enough?”
She doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t even smile. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Make jokes when I’m serious.”
I go quiet.
She steps closer. “I’m saying this because I care about you, okay? Not as some pack warrior or some girl who owed you loyalty. As me. As Ayla. Just… me.”
My chest gets tight. The air shifts. It always does when she talks like that. Like her voice reaches parts of me I didn’t even realize were cold.
“I’ll be fine,” I say. Soft.
“You don’t know that.”
“No. But I know I have to do this.”
She hesitates, then nods. Doesn’t like it, but accepts it. That’s what I love about her. She’s not a yes-woman. She challenges me. Pushes me. But when it matters, she stands beside me.
“You’re gonna win,” she says. “I know you will.”
There’s a small voice behind us. “So do I.”
We both turn.
It’s Garrick.
He’s got his coat on, that same beat-up one he always wears, and his expression is unreadable.
“You’re leaving?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
Ayla frowns. “Now?”
He nods. “I’m heading back to the ruins. There’s still leftover magic there. Old, sticky. Not Nadira herself, but her fingerprints. I want to know what’s coming. I want to see what she left behind.”
“You’re not staying to watch the trial?” Ayla asks.
He shakes his head. “Don’t need to.”
“Why not?”
He looks at me. “Because he has the look.”
Ayla tilts her head. “What look?”
Garrick shrugs. “The one his father had right before he took down two Alphas in one night.”
I blink. “That happened?”
He smirks. “No. But you believe it, don’t you?”
Ayla groans. “You’re an ass.”
Garrick’s already halfway down the steps. “I’ll be back before sunset. Try not to die.”
By dusk, the trial’s set.
It’ll take place tomorrow at dawn. In the Hollow Grove. The place where the earth dips and the trees grow so thick they block the sun. It’s not just symbolic—it’s historic. The original pack leaders were tested there. And now I will be too.
I try to sleep.
I can’t.
I keep thinking about my dad. About Ayla. About the look in the council’s eyes when they told me the trial was ancient. Like they were hoping it would be too much. That I’d crack under the weight of it.
They don’t get it.
I don’t crack. I burn.
Ayla slips into my room around midnight. She doesn’t say a
nything. Just climbs into the bed beside me and lays there, staring at the ceiling.
We don’t touch.
But her presence is enough.
She doesn’t leave till morning.