42

The atmosphere buzzes with excitement.

The whole pack has assembled, creating a large circle around the hallowed arena—a ground that has witnessed centuries of violence, where Alphas emerge and disappear, where dominance is taken and earned solely through might.

I position myself in the middle, rotating my shoulders, maintaining a calm breath. The refreshing morning breeze does little to calm the flame smoldering within my flesh. My muscles are tense, my senses are keen, my heartbeat thundering in my ears.

Facing me, Kyle remains with his typical grin, rotating his wrists, limbering up as if this is merely another sparring session.

It is not.

This is a battle for the crown.

For strength.

For all things.

The pack's murmurs intensify, wolves whispering and moving, some jeering at the sight of me here as if I fit in.

"An Omega is not suited for a challenge of this nature."

"Kyle is going to rip her to shreds."

"This battle has already concluded."

I disregard them.

Because they are not familiar with me.

They have no idea what I’ve endured.

They are unaware that I've never solely been an Omega.

Liam is positioned at the boundary of the ring, quiet.

Observing.

I avoid looking at him.

I don’t require his belief in me.

I will achieve this by myself.

The Guidelines Are Established

An elder advances, lifting a clawed hand to hush the whispers.

“This battle will be waged according to holy law,” he proclaims, his voice resonating through the clearing. “The victor asserts the authority to govern.” "The defeated yields—or perishes."

Silence descends upon the audience.

Kyle’s grin grows broader. “Wishing you’re prepared for the latter, darling.”

I don't hesitate.

I simply rotate my neck, sensing the stress winding within me, poised to break.

"You chat excessively," I whisper.

Kyle laughs softly. "You won’t have anything to say once I’m finished with you."

The older man lifts his hand.

The group leans in, anticipating—

“Commence.”

As soon as the word is uttered, Kyle reacts.

Swifter than a streak, charging at me with a power that only a Beta-born wolf can wield, claws out, teeth gleaming—

However, I was prepared for this.

I turn at the final moment, bending low to avoid his initial blow, my movements driven entirely by instinct. His claws just skim my shoulder, the breeze from his speed whirling by me.

Kyle rebounds immediately, turning, approaching me once more.

The audience cheers.

The obstacle has been.

The air is laden with tension, the gravity of the moment bearing down on every wolf there. The holy arena, a circle of compacted soil marked by the struggles of previous generations, seems more confined with the whole pack assembled around it—observing, murmuring, anticipating.

At the outer edge of the ring, Lisa stands proudly, her lips twisted into a self-satisfied, understanding grin.

She appears calm.

She appears confident.

She appears content.

For her, this has already concluded.

To her, I remain an Omega, still the fragile girl she rejected long ago, still the outcast she believed she had wiped away.

Kyle is her hero. Her tool of combat. The wolf she selected. And now, he’s ready to solidify their authority.

I can see it in her gaze—the subtle pride, the conviction that Kyle will defeat me before this challenge properly starts.

I allowed her to think it.

Allow her to savor her triumph before I take it from her.

Because I am no longer the woman I used to be when she rejected me.

Liam is positioned opposite Lisa, observing, but his demeanor varies.

While Lisa appears self-satisfied, Liam seems anxious.

His jaw is set tight, his shoulders stiff, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

Guilt burdens him significantly—I can sense it from this distance.

He was destined to confront this challenge, but he lacks the strength. Not at this time. And now he has to remain on the sidelines while I enter the ring in his stead.

However, guilt will not rescue him.

It won't rescue any of us.

This battle will.

The elder moves ahead once more, elevating his voice over the whispers of the group.

“This initial round will consist of close-quarters fighting.” Without claws. “Do not change.”

Kyle lets out a snort, rolling his shoulders, already approaching this as if it's a warm-up. “Please don’t take it to heart when I split you in two, darling.”

I disregard him.

I adjust my position, stabilizing myself, sensing the ground below my feet.

Kyle is larger. More powerful. He has prepared his whole life for this, brought up to battle like the fierce Beta-born wolves.

However, he is not quicker.

And he definitely isn’t any smarter.

The elder raises his hand.

The group becomes motionless.

“Start.”

Kyle acts immediately.

He charges ahead, already striking, already extending his hands towards me with the intent to shatter.

He anticipates that I will block.

He anticipates that I will confront him directly.

I do not.

I evade.

Pivoting at the final moment, I dodge his initial blow, my form flowing like water, quick and elusive.

His speed propels him ahead, causing a brief loss of balance—just enough time for me to respond.

I hit. An aggressive, exact strike to his ribs, swift, just sufficient to cause him to falter.

It's insufficient to cause him pain.

However, it’s sufficient to help him understand his error.

Kyle bounces back swiftly, facing me again with a smile that's slightly too strained.

He believed this would be simple.

Yet now, the initial hint of uncertainty glimmers on his expression.

Lisa’s smile wavers.

Liam inhales slightly more deeply.

Due to Kyle's undervaluation of my abilities.

And what about that?

That marks the start of his decline.

No..

“