The Winner
The border patrol warriors formed two disciplined lines as the carriage slowed to a halt. Behind them, the pack’s banners swayed proudly, announcing their unity and strength.
Theo, Jihoo, Matt, and the council elders stood waiting in full ceremonial attire, their heads bowed slightly in respect.
The carriage door opened, and out stepped Ella.
She was radiant in her warrior’s garb—silver-threaded leather armor that hugged her form, her long white hair tied back in a braid that shimmered like moonlight. At her side was beta Lucian, calm and observant as always, his presence a silent reminder of Damian’s authority.
Gasps and murmurs rippled through the crowd of warriors and onlookers gathered along the border path. The rare silver wolf bloodline was not a tale whispered anymore—it was here, standing before them in flesh.
“Welcome, Luna Ella,” Theo said, his tone measured, formal, though his throat felt tight. He bowed respectfully. “The Dam-Nightshade Pack honors your presence.”
Ella’s lips curved into a gracious smile. “Thank you, Alpha Theo. It is good to be among Damian’s own people.” Her gaze swept across the gathered wolves, her silver-gray eyes gleaming with authority. “I’ve heard much about the pack… and about the challenge the Luna to be is to face.”
A hush followed her words. Theo’s jaw clenched, but he nodded politely. “Yes. Our tradition will be honored today.”
“Good,” Ella replied smoothly, then glanced toward Lucian, who gave her a subtle nod of approval. “I will oversee the event on Damian’s behalf. He expects nothing less than fairness and glory.”
The elders behind Theo exchanged murmurs of satisfaction, clearly pleased with Damian’s decision. Theo, however, kept his expression still, though his insides twisted at the thought of Rina facing not only the challenge, but Ella’s watchful eyes.
\---
By the time Ella was escorted into the pack’s main grounds, the arena was roaring with voices. Wolves of every rank pressed close, eager to catch a glimpse of both the legendary Luna of the Silver Moon and the rare spectacle of a Luna’s challenge.
Rina stood at the edge of the arena, cloaked in simple warrior leathers, her braid tight against her back. Her heart hammered as the drums continued to beat, shaking the ground beneath her feet.
When she looked up, her gaze caught Ella’s.
The white-haired Luna entered with regal grace, seated upon the raised platform prepared for her. The crowd bowed deeply, the respect almost suffocating. Ella lifted her chin, returning their adoration with a smile before turning her eyes to Rina still smiling. Rina smiled back until she looked toward lucians piercing gaze toward Rina.
For a moment, Rina froze under the weight of lucain's look. It was not unkind, but it was measuring—assessing whether she was ready for the title she was about to claim.
Beside her, Samantha leaned in and whispered, “All eyes are on you now. Don’t falter.” Though her voice was soothing, her hidden smirk revealed the satisfaction of watching Rina buckle under the immense pressure.
But Rina steadied herself. She drew in a breath, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She would not fail. Not before Theo. Not before the pack. Not under Ella’s piercing gaze.
The announcer’s voice boomed across the arena:
“Today, according to our ancient laws, Rina, mate of Alpha Theo, will face Menar, our strongest female warrior, in combat. By this, she will prove her strength and claim her rightful place as Luna of the Silver Fang Pack!”
The crowd erupted in cheers, anticipation crackling in the air like lightning.
And in the raised seats, Ella leaned forward slightly, her eyes fixed intently on Rina, a faint smile tugging her lips.
The drums thundered again.
The challenge was about to begin.
\---
The arena trembled with the pounding of drums as Menar stepped forward. unusually Broad-shouldered, tall, and with the hardened look of a seasoned fighter, she carried herself with confidence bordering on arrogance. Her friends cheered wildly from the sidelines, shouting her name with unwavering faith.
Rina, on the other hand, stood silent. Her chest rose and fell steadily, her eyes locked on her opponent. Though her palms were damp, her warrior’s instincts took over—memories of training under Beta Lucian in Damian’s pack flashed in her mind, reminding her of who she truly was.
Theo sat stiffly in the high seat alongside the elders, every muscle in his body tense. His wolf snarled in his chest, the urge to leap into the arena and protect his mate almost unbearable. But tradition bound him—he could do nothing. He forced his jaw shut, the veins in his neck pulsing.
The announcer raised his arm.
“Let the challenge begin!”
A loud horn blast echoed, and the two women lunged at each other.
Menar came with raw aggression, swinging hard and fast. Her strikes were brutal, aiming to overwhelm Rina immediately. The crowd roared with excitement as dust kicked up beneath their feet.
But Rina ducked under the first swing, rolled to the side, and countered with a sharp kick to Menar’s ribs. The impact made Menar stagger, but she quickly recovered, her eyes narrowing in fury.
“Not bad,” she hissed, circling Rina like a predator.
Rina said nothing. She simply adjusted her stance, every movement precise, her aura calm yet deadly.
The fight dragged on with intensity—Menar relying on sheer strength, Rina on speed and strategy. Blow after blow was exchanged, each one echoing through the arena, each gasp of the crowd layering the tension higher.
At one point, Menar managed to slam Rina to the ground, pinning her with brute force. Gasps erupted, some shouting that it was over. Theo half-rose to his feet, his wolf howling in desperation. His vision blurred with rage and fear.
But Rina didn’t break. With a swift twist of her body, she dislodged Menar’s balance and rolled free, her elbow cracking against Menar’s jaw with a sharp thud. Blood spurted from Menar’s lip, and the crowd erupted into frenzied cries.
Ella leaned forward in her seat, her silver-gray eyes shining. She whispered to Lucian, loud enough for those nearby to hear:
“She’s not just holding her ground—she’s outthinking her opponent. Excellent combat awareness.”
The praise carried across the council seats, causing murmurs of surprise. Even the elders, once skeptical, now leaned closer to watch.
The fight stretched on. Sweat poured down both warriors’ faces. Menar’s brute strength began to falter against Rina’s relentless tactics. Every time Menar swung, Rina slipped past her guard, landing precise strikes—calculated, efficient, punishing.
Finally, in the climax, Menar charged with a desperate roar, aiming to tackle Rina flat to the ground. But Rina sidestepped at the last second, hooked Menar’s arm, and with a swift motion learned from Lucian himself, flipped her opponent over her shoulder.
Menar slammed into the dirt with a deafening crash.
Silence fell over the arena. Dust swirled in the air.
Rina stood above her opponent, chest heaving, sweat dripping down her temples, but her stance firm and unyielding. Menar groaned, struggling to rise, but her body refused. She was done.
The announcer raised his arm and shouted:
“Victory belongs to Rina, mate of Alpha Theo—Luna of the Dam-Nightshade Pack!”
The arena exploded in deafening cheers. Wolves howled in unison, stomping their feet against the earth, their voices echoing into the skies.
Theo’s chest swelled with pride and relief, his wolf purring with triumph. For the first time that day, his lips curved into a fierce smile as his eyes locked on his mate.
Ella rose to her feet gracefully, her voice cutting through the noise with authority.
“Truly remarkable. She carries not only strength but the spirit of a true Luna. Damian will be pleased to know she has proven herself with honor.”
Her words silenced the doubts of even the harshest elders.
Rina, though trembling with exhaustion, managed a small smile toward the crowd. In that moment, with the cheers surrounding her, she felt it—acceptance, belonging, and the acknowledgment that she was worthy to stand by Theo’s side.