Chapter 31 Trial By Combat
Lira's POV
Dawn light filtered through the trees as the pack gathered in the training circle. I stood at the edge of the ring, my hands trembling despite my efforts to appear calm. The anonymous threat from the night before echoed in my mind, but I forced myself to focus on the immediate danger.
The pack pressed close around the training circle, their hostility thick. Whispers hissed through the crowd—worthless, cursed, wolfless. Some averted their eyes, ashamed to watch my inevitable defeat. Others leaned forward with hungry anticipation, coins already exchanging hands as they bet on how quickly I'd fall.
Three wolves waited across from me. Joren Steele, a massive warrior with scars covering his arms. Nadia Frost, lean and quick with predator's eyes. And finally, Bentt Kane, Thomas's second-in-command, built like a mountain.
"Three fights," Selene announced from the council platform. "No weapons, no interference. Fight until yield or unconsciousness."
Kael stood with the others, his face stone cold. But through our bond, I felt his barely controlled fury. Every muscle in his body was coiled to intervene.
"Don't," I whispered, knowing he could hear me. "I have to do this myself."
Joren stepped into the ring first, cracking his knuckles and grinning. "Nothing personal, girl. But you don't belong here."
The circle erupted in cheers and jeers. I caught sight of pack members exchanging coins—betting against me.
"Begin!" Selene called.
Joren lunged forward, expecting an easy victory. But years of dodging Garrick's fists had taught me to read violence before it struck. I twisted aside, letting his momentum carry him past me.
He spun around, surprised. "Lucky dodge."
This time he was more careful, circling me with measured steps. I felt Selwyn stirring in my mind, lending me wolf senses. I could smell his confidence, hear his heartbeat, see the slight favor of his right leg from an old injury.
When he attacked again, I was ready. I ducked under his swing and drove my elbow into his ribs. The crack of bone echoed across the circle.
Joren staggered back, clutching his side. "Bitch!"
He charged with wild fury now, abandoning technique. I stayed calm, letting my wolf guide my movements. Duck. Weave. Strike when he overextended. Each hit was precise, targeting pressure points and weak spots I somehow knew.
After ten minutes, Joren collapsed to his knees, gasping.
"I yield," he wheezed.
The crowd fell silent. Several pack members looked stunned. I helped Joren to his feet, earning a grudging nod of respect.
"Impressive," Nadia said as she entered the ring. "But I'm not as clumsy as he is."
The second fight was different. Nadia was fast, her movements fluid. She struck and retreated before I could counter, landing stinging blows that accumulated damage.
Blood trickled from my split lip. My ribs ached from a vicious kidney punch. But something was happening to my wolf. With each hit, Selwyn grew stronger, more present.
Let me help, my wolf whispered.
"Not yet," I murmured aloud.
Nadia heard and laughed. "Talking to yourself? The pressure is getting to you?"
I could feel my wolf lending me her strength, as my senses heightened.
She lunged for my throat. But instead of dodging, I caught her wrist and used her momentum to throw her over my shoulder. She hit the ground hard.
"Yield," I said, offering my hand.
Nadia took it, respect clear in her eyes. "You fight like someone who's been running for their life."
"I have been," I muttered.
The crowd's murmur grew louder. Some were starting to cheer for me. But Bentt stepped forward, and the noise died.
He was massive, built like a bear. Scars covered his arms and chest from countless battles. When he smiled, it held no warmth.
"I won't go easy on you because you're pretty," he rumbled. "This is where your luck runs out."
I wiped blood from my mouth. My body screamed in protest, but I stood straight. "I never counted on luck."
The third fight began with Bentt testing my defenses, throwing measured jabs that forced me backward. Each blocked punch sent shockwaves up my arms. He was too strong for me to match directly.
But strength meant nothing if you couldn't land a hit.
I shifted tactics, using my speed and smaller size to stay mobile. I darted in and out of his reach, landing quick strikes before dancing away. It was working—until Bentt adapted.
He feinted left, then caught me with a backhand that sent me sprawling. Stars exploded across my vision as blood filled my mouth.
"Stay down," he advised. "You've proven your point."
I spat blood and pushed myself up. "No."
Bentt shook his head and advanced but this time with what I saw he was done playing. His next punch would have shattered my jaw, but Selwyn surged forward.
Now, my wolf snarled.
Power flooded through my limbs. My vision sharpened to perfect clarity. I could smell Bentt's sweat, hear his heartbeat, see the micro-expressions that telegraphed his next move.
I slipped his punch by inches and drove my fist into his solar plexus. The big man doubled over, gasping. Before he could recover, I grabbed his head and brought my knee up.
The crack echoed as Bentt toppled backward, unconscious before he hit the ground.
The training circle exploded in chaos. Some pack members cheered. Others looked shocked while a few seemed afraid.
I stood over Bentt, chest heaving. Silver light flickered in my eyes for just a moment before fading. I looked around the circle, meeting every gaze.
"Does anyone else have questions about where I belong?" I asked, breathing heavily.
Selene rose from her seat, expression unreadable. "The combat trial is complete. Lira Ashborne has proven her warrior's heart."
But as I walked toward Kael, my legs gave out. The adrenaline crashed, leaving me shaking and barely conscious. Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground.
"I've got you little wolf," Kael whispered.