Chapter 93 The First day
He had spent the evening in his small room in the slave quarters, sharpening his practice sword, packing a small bag with essentials, and thinking. The mate duel loomed like a storm cloud, and the elders' demand had forced Fernando's hand. Alberto had listened to the whispers in the yard, the snickers from the elites, the quiet doubts about his place. He had heard enough.
Now, in the dead of night, he moved through the corridors like a shadow. The moon was nearly full, its light silver through the narrow windows. He reached Samael's quarters and knocked once, softly.
The door opened almost immediately. Samael stood there, shirtless, his massive frame filling the doorway. He had been waiting.
"Alberto," Samael said quietly. "Come in."
Alberto stepped inside. Samael closed the door behind him and gestured to the stool by the desk. Alberto sat. Samael leaned against the wall, arms crossed, waiting.
Alberto did not waste time. "I am joining the duel."
Samael exhaled slowly through his nose. "I figured you might say that."
Alberto met his gaze. "I have to. The pack sees me as weak. A slave. A bed warmer. Fernando will not claim me publicly. If I win the duel, I prove my worth. To him. To them. To myself."
Samael rubbed his jaw. "The duel is not a game. First blood, yes, but accidents happen. Wolves die. The pack will not be responsible. If someone falls, it is on them, but the blood is still blood."
Alberto's voice was steady. "I know the risk."
Samael stepped closer. "Do you? Really? You have not shifted fully in years. Your wolf is locked away. You are strong, Alberto, but the duel is brutal. The strongest from every pack will be there. Some will want to kill you just to prove a point."
Alberto stood. "Then let them try. I will not back down."
Samael sighed. "You are stubborn."
Alberto's eyes flashed. "I am tired of being seen as less. I tamed the Thornwood. I saved Kael. I guided the spirits under the blood moon. I will not hide anymore."
Samael studied him for a long moment. "If you are sure…"
Alberto nodded. "I am."
Samael rubbed the back of his neck. "Then I will help. But keep it secret. No one else knows. Not Darius. Not Fernando. They would stop you."
Alberto exhaled. "Thank you. And Samael… help me register. Cover my tracks when I compete. I do not want them to know until it is too late."
Samael nodded. "I will find a way to enter your name without drawing attention. I will register you under a false pack name. The duel is open to challengers from anywhere. They will not question it until you step into the arena."
Alberto's shoulders relaxed slightly. "I appreciate it."
Samael stepped closer. "If it gets too dangerous, you tap out. Promise me."
Alberto hesitated. "If it gets too dangerous, I will tap out."
Samael searched his face. "You mean it?"
Alberto met his eyes. "I mean it."
Samael nodded. "Good. Now go rest. Tomorrow is the first day."
Alberto turned to leave.
Samael called after him. "Alberto."
Alberto paused at the door.
Samael spoke quietly. "You are more than they think. Do not let them make you forget that."
Alberto smiled faintly. "I will not."
He left, the door closing softly behind him.
Samael stood alone in his room, staring at the wall.
The night deepened.
\~~~~~~
The Next Day
The central arena stood ready under a sky heavy with clouds, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and anticipation. The pack house grounds had been transformed for the occasion. Tiered stone benches rose around the wide sand pit, every seat filled with wolves from the home pack and the visiting delegations. Banners of every color snapped in the wind, marking the territories of the challengers. Guards stood at every entrance, weapons gleaming, while maids moved through the crowd offering water and bread to the spectators. The mate duel had begun, and the entire pack waited for the first clash.
Samael moved through the chaos of preparation, his face set in a mask of calm authority. He had spent the night arranging everything: registering names, assigning judges, checking weapons. Fernando had given him full command of the logistics, trusting him to keep the event orderly. Samael had used that trust.
He spotted the young wolf carrying the master list of combatants, a parchment scroll rolled tight in his hand. The wolf was hurrying toward the judges' box, eyes down, focused on not dropping the precious document.
Samael timed his steps perfectly. He walked toward the wolf, shoulder angled just right, and collided hard enough to knock him off balance. The wolf stumbled, the scroll tumbling from his grip. Samael caught him by the arm, steadying him, then delivered a quick, precise blow to the back of his neck.
The wolf dropped like a stone, unconscious.
Samael knelt, pretending to help, while he unrolled the scroll. His fingers moved fast, pen scratching a new name into the list: Beau Crante from the regional west pack.
He rolled it back up and tucked it into the wolf's hand.
The young wolf stirred, blinking groggily. Samael helped him to his feet.
"You okay?" Samael asked, voice full of concern. "Did you not have enough rest? You fainted."
The wolf rubbed the back of his neck, confused. "I… I do not know. Everything went black."
Samael patted his shoulder. "Take it easy. Go deliver the list. You will feel better."
The wolf nodded, still dazed, and hurried off toward the judges' box.
Samael watched him go, then slipped back into the crowd.
Time passed. The sun climbed higher. The arena filled to capacity.
Fernando stepped into the center of the pit, the crowd falling silent. He raised his hand.
"The mate duel begins today," he announced, voice carrying to every corner. "It will be fought in four stages. First, the weapon stage: combat with chosen blades until first blood. Second, the spirit stage: summon your wolf or power, prove your strength of soul. Third, the mind stage: test of will and strategy. Fourth, the strength stage: final test of raw power. The victor stands beside me as my partner."
The crowd erupted in cheers and roars, mugs raised, fists pumping.
Fernando waited for silence. "The first two combatants are called."
He paused, letting the tension build.
"Princess Eliana of the southern ridges."
Eliana stepped forward, tall and proud, her dark hair braided with silver, her armor polished to a shine. She raised her hand, smiling confidently.
"And Princess Ivy of the rival eastern pack."
Ivy emerged from the opposite side, her red hair flowing, her armor lighter but no less deadly. She met Eliana's gaze with a cold smile.
The two sworn princesses of rival packs faced each other in the center of the arena.
The crowd roared louder.
The duel was about to begin.