Chapter 59 Omega Against Alpha
Silas moved. Freda moved with him.
There was no space between them, no moment of hesitation. Her fist drove toward his throat. He caught her wrist before it landed, but she twisted free before his grip could tighten and drove her elbow hard into his ribs.
He stepped back.
She followed without stopping. Another strike, then another. Clean and direct, nothing wasted. Silas blocked most of them. One slipped through anyway, her fist catching the edge of his jaw.
A ripple moved through the watching circle.
Silas's head turned slightly with the impact. He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Then a faint smile touched his mouth, and he came at her hard.
His fist cut straight toward her side. Freda brought her arm up, but the force still slammed into her and pushed her back.
Pain flared through her arm and down her ribs. She moved with it, turning, stepping, resetting her feet before he could press the advantage.
His next strike came faster, aimed higher. She ducked under it, close enough to feel the air move past her ear. Her hand shot out and caught his wrist.
She pulled, drove her knee up, and felt solid contact. A short breath left him. She didn't stop. She twisted his arm across his body and shoved, throwing him off balance for one full step.
It was enough.
She pressed in. Her strikes came quicker now, short and controlled, each one placed with intent. A hit to his side, another to his shoulder, a sharp jab toward his throat. Silas blocked, adjusted, and struck back.
His fist slammed into her ribs with a sharp crack of force. Her body jolted. She stayed on her feet and didn't step back.
Her breathing tightened. Her movements didn't.
She dropped her stance lower and watched him, waiting.
Silas stepped in again. His strike came for her face. She slipped to the side, let it miss, and caught his arm on the way past. Her shoulder drove forward into his center.
They collided and held for a moment, both of them pushing. Then she broke off and struck again. A hit to his side, then another, faster.
Silas's hand snapped out and caught her arm. His grip was crushing. He yanked her forward and drove his knee into her stomach.
The air left her lungs in one hard burst. Her body folded for just a second. He didn't give her more than that. His hand locked onto her shoulder and he threw her.
Freda hit the ground hard, the impact tearing through her back as dust rose around her. She slid and stopped near the far edge of the circle.
The crowd went still.
She pushed herself up. Her hand pressed into the dirt, fingers curling against the rough ground as she forced herself upright. There was blood on her lip. She wiped it away.
Silas watched from across the circle.
"You don't stay down," he said.
Freda straightened. Her breath was uneven for a moment, then she pulled it back under control.
"No."
Silas tilted his head slightly. Then he moved again, faster than before. His hand shot toward her throat. She dropped low and slipped under it, his fingers brushing past her skin.
She turned with the movement and drove her arm toward his side. He blocked. His elbow slammed into her back before she could recover, pain shooting through her spine.
She stumbled forward and caught herself. She turned just in time to get her arm up against his next strike. Her bones rattled with the impact. She stepped back once, then stepped forward again.
She stopped trying to meet him head-on. She let him come instead.
Silas stepped in with confidence, his strike cutting toward her. She slipped aside at the last second, caught his wrist, and pulled him off his line.
Her knee drove up and connected. He exhaled sharply. She twisted his arm across his body and pushed, forcing him off balance.
The shift was small. But it was there, and she took it.
Her strikes came faster now, sharper than before. Each movement was clean and without hesitation, without wasted effort. She didn't rush and she didn't panic. She watched him, adjusted, and kept moving.
Silas matched her pace, blocking and countering, his movements tightening. One of his blows landed clean across her side.
The impact drove deep into her ribs, and something shifted inside her, but she didn't stop. Her next strike still landed. Then another.
Silas's expression changed. The ease left his face and focus replaced it.
"Still standing," he said.
Freda exhaled. Her chest burned, but her voice came out steady.
"Still here."
He lunged. Faster, stronger, with no warning. She didn't step back. She met him. Her hands locked against his arms and stopped his strike halfway. For a moment they held there, strength against strength, and she didn't give.
Then the bond surged open.
It moved through her like something steady and unbreakable, not overwhelming and not controlling, just present and solid. Lucian. She felt him close to her, unyielding, like a hand pressed flat against her back.
Silas felt it too. His eyes narrowed.
Freda shoved off suddenly and broke the hold. She spun, her leg sweeping low and catching his ankle just enough to shift his footing.
He adjusted fast, too fast to fall, but not fast enough to stop her fist from driving into his side once, then twice, then a third time.
Silas grabbed her arm mid-strike. His grip went hard and fast. He pulled her in and drove his knee into her stomach.
The world tilted. Pain tore through her, sharp and deep, and her body folded. He didn't wait. He threw her, harder this time, and Freda hit the ground and rolled once, twice, before stopping near the edge of the circle.
Dust settled around her.
For a second she didn't move.
Then her hand pressed into the ground. She pushed herself up, unsteady for half a step, then steady again. She lifted her head.
Silas watched her from across the circle. There was no smile now. Just focus.
"Enough," he said quietly.
Then he moved. He was too fast. Freda saw it but not in time. His fist slammed into her side before she could raise her arm. The impact tore through her, deep and final. Her body left the ground, thrown sideways with the force of it.
She hit the ravine wall.
Stone cracked on impact, the sound sharp and echoing off the rock face. For a moment everything stopped. Then she slid down the wall, dust dragging behind her, and her body hit the ground with a dull and heavy weight.
She didn't get up.
Silence fell over the clearing. It was heavy and unbroken. Around the circle, wolves exhaled, the sound low and uneven.
Silas didn't rush. He walked toward her slowly, his steps steady and unhurried, his claws extending as he moved. No one stepped forward. No one spoke.
Then Liam did.
"Mom!"
The scream tore across the ravine, raw and sharp. It hit the stone walls and echoed back, cutting through every thread of silence.
But Freda didn't move. She lay where she had fallen, still.