37

The change is occurring more rapidly than I anticipated.

Lisa has always been a threat, but now, with Liam vulnerable and Kyle beside her, she’s advancing like a tempest ripping through the pack’s core. Her falsehoods are no longer faint murmurs in the dark—they are developing roots, taking form, enveloping the thoughts of those who were already unsure.

"An Alpha that stumbles once may stumble again."

Liam is feeble. "The group requires power."

"Perhaps it's time for a different leader."

And what about Kyle? He’s performing precisely what he excels at—waiting for the strike.

He does not seek the throne. He doesn't boast about being the superior option. He allows them to make their own choices, allows them to desire him, allows them to question Liam.

It's an excellent strategy. And it’s effective.

I observe from the periphery, arms folded, paying attention as the council chamber becomes filled with whispers of anxiety, of discontent.

Next, an elder—among the oldest, the most traditional—advances.

“We cannot support a feeble Alpha,” he asserts, voice firm, seasoned, yet strong enough to grab attention. “And we shall not let politics and betrayal divide us.”

His eyes scan the room, pausing on Liam for just a moment too long. Next, it’s Kyle’s turn. Then, surprisingly, it happened to me.

“The sole method to resolve this,” he goes on, “is through an official challenge for the crown.”

A wave of consensus circulates around the room.

Kyle grins.

Liam's jaw muscles tense.

And I? I become chilly.

Since this is precisely what Lisa desired.

She doesn’t have to keep telling lies if she can use tradition to do her bidding. A challenge signifies that any wolf of rank can assert the right to govern. It signifies that the throne will be claimed by the mightiest, the one who demonstrates their strength in front of the pack.

At this moment, Liam is not the most powerful.

Not in their gaze.

Not even in his possession.

The suspense deepens. I sense the pack's focus changing, the tension increasing. Kyle is already moving forward, prepared to embrace the challenge, eager to grasp what he has been anticipating.

Lisa observes from the sidelines, her face expertly neutral, yet I can detect the triumph in her gaze.

She believes she has triumphed.

She believes this is it.

She believes I’ll remain here, mute, observing while Liam loses everything—seeing Kyle ascend to the throne, while she consolidates power in the one manner I cannot reverse.

Perhaps I ought to permit her.

Perhaps I ought to allow Liam to fall.

Perhaps that would be a fitting retribution for his actions against me, for the decisions he made, for the time I dedicated to fleeing, enduring, and dismantling myself only to reconstruct who I am.

However, then I consider my kids.

I envision Elias gazing into Liam's eyes and saying, "Perhaps you don’t merit us."

I reflect on Lisa’s drive, on Kyle’s insatiable desire for power, on what this pack could evolve into if I let them triumph.

And suddenly, my direction is evident.

As Kyle advances to take his position in the challenge, I also take one step forward.

The space transforms.

Eyes open wide.

Kyle takes a moment.

Lisa’s self-satisfied smile momentarily changes—just for an instant, but I notice it.

Surprise.

Since she didn't anticipate this.

She was not anticipating my arrival.

"I will battle." My voice pierces the room, firm and resolute.

A moment of quiet.

Then—disorder. Whispers erupt, tremors coursing through the group. Elders share cautious looks. A few people mock. A few appear fascinated.

Liam’s eyes shift to me, expressionless.

Kyle’s grin wavers before morphing into a more sinister, intriguing expression.

Lisa? For the first time, Lisa truly appears unsettled.

“You can't be kidding,” one of the elders replies, shaking his head. “A woman has never—”

"I'm more than just a woman," I interject icily. "I'm Nina Hawthorne." “I’ve endured years of experiences that would have taken the lives of any of you.”

The whispers change.

Due to their awareness of my identity.

They are aware of what I went through.

And above everything else?

They are aware of my abilities.

Lisa collects herself, moving ahead with a gentle, condescending smile. “This is a test for the crown, Nina.” “Not a private grudge.”

I hold her gaze, not blinking.

“Oh, I understand perfectly what this is.”

Kyle angles his head, examining me as if I’m a mystery he didn't expect to decipher. "Are you for real?"

I face him, countering his smirk with a dangerous smile of my own. "I would prefer to die than allow you to possess that throne."

Another wave of responses flows through the room.

Liam remains quiet, continuously gazing, still observing me as if he’s witnessing something entirely unexpected.

And perhaps he is.

Since I have made my decision.

Not for Liam.

Not for retribution.

Not regarding the past.

For my kids.

For what lies ahead.

For myself.

The council chambers burst into chaos—yelling, arguing, wolves seeking answers, elders rushing to determine if I’m able to proceed with this.

However, I am not concerned.

Since it’s occurring.

And Lisa is aware of it.

And Kyle is aware of it.

And what about Liam?

Liam gazes at me with an expression resembling admiration. Since I didn’t simply move ahead.

I've completely altered the game.

The atmosphere in the council chamber is dense enough to suffocate.

Liam is positioned at the front of the room, yet it's obvious to all—he lacks the strength to combat. Still not. Not after the venom, nor after the murmurs of uncertainty that have been seeping through the pack like decay.

What about Kyle? He is aware of it.

He advances, measured and purposeful, the grin on his face nearly triumphant.

"I will present the challenge," he states, his tone calm, assured, meant to be listened to. "Liam isn’t strong enough to be a leader, and everyone here is aware of it."

Nobody is talking. Everyone acknowledges it.

And that quietness? That's the most terrible aspect.

Since Kyle is not mistaken.

If Liam battles now, he’ll be defeated.

I look at him, noticing how his jaw clenches and his fingers ball into fists at his sides. He is aware of it as well. And the awareness is tormenting him.

Kyle looks at the elders, who are already whispering among themselves, assessing the situation and observing the shift in power. Choosing.

And then, before I can hold back, before I even completely understand what I’m about to do—

I communicate.

"To confront the Alpha King, you'll need to face me before that."

The room explodes.

Sighs. Surprise. Skepticism. The whispers escalate into a thunder, wolves glancing at one another, eyes widened, faces showing a mix of anger and curiosity.

I hardly hear them.

Why Kyle?

Kyle is smiling.

He inclines his head, examining me as if I’m his preferred type of puzzle—unexpected, yet suddenly intriguing enough for him to want to figure out.

“Nina,” Liam's voice is hoarse, tight.

I disregard him.

Since my body is already vibrating, heat flowing through my veins, adrenaline coursing in my bloodstream.

Kyle adjusts his stance, a glimmer of amusement crossing his expression. "You really mean it."

I raise my chin, locking eyes with him without hesitating. "Fatal."

Lisa finally talks, moving forward with a gradual, deliberate smile. "The crown is not obtained through hollow threats, my dear." It’s achieved by fighting. "By means of strength."

I face her, returning her smile with one of my own.

"Now let's try mine."

Stillness.

And afterward

Giggles.

Kyle's chuckle. Low, warm, perilous.

“Oh, this,” he whispers, nodding his head, “is going to be enjoyable.”

And just like that, I’ve accomplished it.

I've engaged myself in the competition.

There's no way to go back now.