Chapter 143 THE RIGHTNESS OF A DUEL

Chapter 143 THE RIGHTNESS OF A DUEL
MERRIELYNN.

The crowd exploded into chaos.
But I barely heard it.
All I could do was stare at Cormac while my heart tried to beat its way out of my chest and tears streamed down my face.
“I’ll always come for her.”
He meant it. He really meant it.
The King stared at his son like he was trying to figure out what kind of madness had possessed him.
“Do you accept?” Cormac’s voice cut through the stunned silence of the square. Unwavering. Like he hadn’t just challenged his own father to a fight to the death in front of thousands of witnesses.
The King’s expression shifted. His jaw clenched so hard I could see the muscle jumping. His eyes narrowed as he studied Cormac with this calculating intensity that made my skin crawl.
I could practically see him working through the options in his head.
If he refused, it would be the same as admitting weakness. Confessing to being lesser than his own son in front of the entire realm. Every wolf here would see it as cowardice.
His authority would crumble.
But if he accepted, he might have to killhis own son. His only remaining child.
Werewolf laws were absolutely brutal.
A man I vaguely recognized as the current Beta stepped forward from where he’d been standing at the edge of the platform. He looked nervous. Like he knew he shouldn’t be getting involved but couldn’t help himself.“Rank duels are unheard of for the title of King,” he said. His voice wavered slightly. “The precedent for this situation is unclear. Perhaps we should consult the—”
“No one asked you.” The King didn’t even glance in his direction. His eyes stayed locked on Cormac.
The Beta’s mouth snapped shut. He took a step back and melted into the background.
Father and son continued to stare at each other.
There was something happening between them that went beyond words. Some kind of silent communication built on years of conflict and disappointment and unresolved tension. I could see it in the way they held themselves. In the slight shifts of their expressions that probably no one else would even notice.
Decades of complicated history passing between them in the span of heartbeats.
The King’s hands slowly curled into fists at his sides. His knuckles went white from how hard he was clenching them.
“You will lose,” he said. His voice was low and cold and absolutely certain.
“Then accept,” Cormac said without missing a beat, “so we can find out.”
The King kept staring. The anger in his expression was building with every second that ticked by. His whole body had gone rigid with barely contained fury.
I’d never seen him look at Cormac like this before. Like he was seeing his son as a genuine threat for the first time.
Then the King spoke again. This time his voice carried across the square so everyone could hear.
“I won’t kill you, son.” The words should have been comforting but they came out like a threat. “But know that today you will be taught a lesson you should have learned years ago.”
He let that statement hang in the air for a moment. Letting it sink in.
Then he raised his voice even louder. Projecting to every corner of the packed square. “I accept Prince Cormac’s challenge for the title of King.”
The crowd erupted into noise. Gasps and shouts and frantic whispered conversations.
My heart dropped straight through the floor.
No.
This couldn’t be happening.
I looked at Cormac and felt panic clawing up my throat.
He was going to fight his father. The man who had been King for decades. Who had more experience and more training and more raw power than Cormac could possibly match.
This was suicide.
Cormac turned his head. Our eyes met across the platform.
He looked absolutely devastated. Like seeing me tied up and kneeling there was causing him physical pain.
I didn’t know if I’d get another chance to tell him.I truly didn’t know if either of us would survive the next few minutes.
So I mouthed the words as clearly as I could.
I love you.
His eyes squeezed shut for just a second. Like he was trying to hold himself together. Like those three words had hit him harder than anyof his fathers blows were about to.
Then he turned away and I lost sight of his face.
The guard who had tied me to the scaffold came back. His hands were rough as he started undoing the ropes around my wrists and ankles. The bindings had cut into my skin. When they finally came loose, I could see raw red marks and some places where I’d actually bled from struggling.
He hauled me to my feet. My legs were shaky and didn’t want to support my weight properly. He didn’t care as he draggedme off the platform and down the steps and into the crowd.
He shoved me toward the front row where I stumbled and caught myself againstthe boards.
“You’ve always been impulsive, Cormac.” The King’s tone was almost conversational. Like they were having a normal father-son chat instead of preparing to kill each other. “Acting on emotion rather than logic. Letting your heart rule your head. That’s why you’ve never been fit to rule. That’s why you’ll always be weak. And that’s why you’ll lose today.”
He was lecturing Cormac. Right here. Right now. In front of thousands of people who were hanging on every word.
Humiliating him before the fight even started.
“But please,” the King continued, spreading his arms wide in this mocking gesture. “By all means, come at me. Show me what you think you’ve learned. Show me what you think makes you worthy of this crown.”
Cormac stood completely still. Just watching his father with this unreadable expression.
The tension on that platform was suffocating. I could feel it even from here. I could see it in the way both of them held themselves. Coiled and ready for whatever came.
Cormac lunged first.
He exploded forward so fast it looked like he’d teleported. One second he was standing, and in the next, he was sprinting at full speed. His feet pounded against the wooden planks of the platform as he ate up the distance between them.
The King braced himself. Preparing for the collision.
But Cormac didn’t collide with him.
At the absolute last possible second, Cormac launched himself into the air.
His body twisted mid-jump. I heard the sickening crack of bones breaking and reforming. I saw his skin ripple like water as fur erupted across his body. The shift happened so fast it was almost impossible to track with my eyes.
What landed on the platform wasn’t a man anymore.
It was a massive wolf.
The crowd gasped collectively. A few people screamed.
I drew back slowly in shock. This... was Cormac’s wolf?
It’s fur wasso black it seemed to absorb allthe light around it. Muscle rippled under that dark coat with every movement. And those same piercing green eyes blazedbrighter with pure animalistic intent.
The King looked at the wolf that used to be his son.
And he grinned.
It wasn’t a nice smile. It was predatory and eager. Something sickening slithered down my spine.
He reached up slowly and loosened his tie, before he pulled it off with deliberate movements and let it drop to the platform.“If you wanted us to tear each other apart like animals,” he said, his voice carrying that mocking edge, “all you had to do was ask.”
Then he jumped.
His shift was just as explosive as Cormac’s had been. His body contorted mid-air, bones snapping and reforming with this wet cracking sound that made my stomach turn.
One second he was human. The next he was this enormous gray and silver wolf. Slightly larger than Cormac’s.
His muzzle was scarred and his body was covered in marks from decades of fights.
Looking at the two wolves, it was easy to guess who had more battle experience.
They circled slowly. Both staying low to the ground with their ears pinned back. Both watching for any opening. Any moment of weakness they could exploit.
The crowd had gone completely silent. Thousands of people barely breathing.
The King’s wolf lunged forwardfirstwith his jaw open wide, aiming for Cormac’s throat. Cormac twisted away at the last second and the King’s teeth snapped shut on empty air.
Cormac used the momentum to spin and slam his shoulder into his father’s side. The impact sent the King stumbling sideways.
They separated and circled again. Both bleeding now from small cuts. Both reassessing.
The King lunged again. This time he was faster. His jaw clamped down on Cormac’s front leg and I heard the crack of bone.
I screamed but the sound was lost in the roar of the crowd.
Cormac yelped and thrashed, trying to get free. He twisted his body violently and managed to rake his claws down his father’s face. The King released him with a snarl.
Blood poured from the wounds on the King’s muzzle. Cormac’s leg was mangled where the teeth had sunk in.
They broke apart again. Both panting now. Both limping.
Then they collided in the center of the platform.
This time it was pure chaos.
A tangle of black and gray and flashing teeth. They rolled across the wood in this violent embrace, each trying to get at the other’s throat.
Cormac managed to get on top. His jaws locked around his father’s shoulder and he bit down hard. The King howled and bucked, throwing Cormac off.
Cormac hit the platform hard enough that I heard the impact even from where I was standing. I flinched just a hard.
The King was on him immediately. His teeth sank into Cormac’s side and tore. Blood sprayed across the wood.
No. No no no.
Cormac twisted somehow and got his jaw around his father’s ear. He ripped it clean off.
The King reared back with this horrible shrieking snarl. Half his ear was just gone. Blood poured down the side of his head.
They circled again. Both badly wounded now. Both moving slower. More carefully wary of their opponent.
The King lunged for Cormac’s throat again. Cormac dropped flat to the ground and the King sailed over him. Before the King could land, Cormac surged up and caught his father’s hind leg in his jaw.
He bit down and I heard bone shatter.
Yes!
The King crashed to the platform. He tried to stand but his back leg wouldn’t support his weight anymore.
Cormac circled around to face him. Both wolves were covered in blood now. Both barely able to stand.
The King tried to lunge one more time but the broken leg gave out. He stumbled and Cormac’s jaws clamped around his father’s throat.
I covered my mouth with both hands.
The King thrashed and clawed at Cormac’s face. But Cormac held on.
They struggled like that for what felt like forever.Then they tumbled off the edge of the platform together. Still locked in that deadly embrace.
I heard the impact as they hit the ground below. The horrible thud of heavy wolves landing hard. But the struggle and intensity continued. They tore and ripped at each other in a way that send warning bells through out my whole body.
We couldn’t see anything anymore. Not who was winning, who was being attacked.
The entire crowd seemed to stop breathing.
The sounds grew fainter. More distant. The rawest roar cut through the air and made my knees tremble.
It sounded pained.
Broken.
Not Cormac. Not Cormac. Not Cormac. Not Cormac.
It couldn’t be Cormac.
He couldn’t lose.
And what came after the roar was even worse.
It was nothing.
Just pure, absolute silence that stretched on and on.
The silence could only mean one of them had stopped struggling.
I couldn’t hear anything over my own heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. It was so loud I thought everyone around me must be able to hear it too.
My legs moved without me telling them to. Iinched forward, trying to see past the platform.
Almost everyone was doing the same thing.Stretching ontheirtoes, and and climbing over the platform,trying to see what had happened.
Seconds felt like hours until I heard footsteps.
A shadow fell across the ground as someone walked up the platform edge they’d fallen over.
My breath stopped completely as a single figure emerged into view.
Cormac.
A broken cry tore out of my chest.
He was human again. Completely naked. Every inch of him was covered in blood. It was in his hair, streaming down his face, coating his chest and arms. So much blood I couldn’t tell where he ended and it began.
He was limping badly. His left leg could barely support his weight. His breathing came in these harsh, ragged gasps I could hear and feel even across the distance.
But he was walking.
He was alive.
The crowd reeled backward like a wave, as the realization rippled through the square, starting with the people closest and spreadingonoutward.
Cormac had won the duel.
King Killian... was dead.
And standing before us, covered in his father’s blood, was the new Lycan King of the werewolf realm.