Chapter 244

Chapter 244
Hazel's POV

I followed Zinnia to her competition arena, my stomach knotting with anxiety when I saw her opponent. The Beta she'd be facing was practically twice her size, with arms thick as tree trunks and a menacing scowl that suggested he ate smaller wolves for breakfast.

"Remember your training," I whispered as she stretched at the edge of the ring. "You're faster than he is."

Zinnia nodded, but her eyes remained fixed on her opponent. I could see her hands trembling slightly.

When the match began, Zinnia immediately took a defensive stance. The larger Beta charged forward with a roar, swinging wildly. She dodged his first punch but caught the second one in her ribs, the impact making me wince. Despite the blow, she managed to land a solid hit to his kidney before dancing away again.

Through our mind-link, Steven informed me that Christopher had won his match against his brother's Beta. I felt a surge of pride—Christopher had proven himself despite not having a wolf.

A few minutes later, Steven and Christopher joined me at Zinnia's arena. Zinnia was still holding her own, but fatigue was beginning to show in her movements.

"How's she doing, Luna?" Steven asked, his eyes tracking the fight.

"She's good," I called out, making sure my voice carried to Zinnia. "Stop playing with this idiot, Zinnia! Show him what you've got!"

Christopher leaned forward against the railing. "Take him down, baby! Just like we practiced!"

Something in Christopher's voice seemed to flip a switch in Zinnia. Her entire demeanor changed in an instant—her shoulders squared, her stance shifted, and the hesitation vanished from her eyes. She switched from defense to offense, using her smaller size to her advantage as she circled around the Beta, forcing him to pivot awkwardly to keep up.

"That's it, Zinnia! Just like you did the other day!" Christopher shouted encouragingly.

Zinnia took a running start, launching into a powerful roundhouse kick that connected squarely with the Beta's face. The impact knocked him off-balance, his eyes momentarily glazing over. Before he could recover, she dropped to a crouch and delivered a perfect punch to his inner thigh—exactly where it hurt most without breaking competition rules.

As he staggered, she executed a flawless leg sweep that sent him crashing to the ground. Without hesitation, she drove her fist into his stomach with such force that the Beta immediately rolled to his side, vomiting onto the arena floor.

The referee blew his whistle, declaring Zinnia the winner.

"That's my girl!" Christopher bellowed, rushing into the ring. He lifted Zinnia off her feet, spinning her around in celebration while she laughed, her earlier nervousness completely forgotten.

By the end of day three, Christopher had defeated William's Beta Benjamin to claim first place in the Beta competition. When the rankings were posted, Wildfire Pack remained in first place, but our Wayward Home Pack had reclaimed second position, with Silver Moon dropping to third.

That evening at dinner, the atmosphere was tense with anticipation.

Tomorrow would be the final day—Alpha Day—when Steven and I would compete. I looked around the dining hall, noticing several Alphas nursing wounded prides. After witnessing Skylar's Guardian power in action, they knew they stood little chance against us three Guardians.

"Nervous about tomorrow?" Steven asked quietly, his hand finding mine under the table.

"Not about the competition," I admitted. "I'm worried about my father."

He squeezed my hand reassuringly. "Remember, you're not that frightened little girl anymore."

The next morning, we rose early. Steven pulled me into a tight embrace before we parted ways to our separate competition arenas.

"Show them what a Guardian can do," he whispered against my ear.

My first opponent was the same Alpha who had challenged us days earlier—the one Skylar had forced to his knees with her Guardian aura. As we approached each other in the ring, his lips curled into a contemptuous smile. When I extended my hand for the customary pre-match handshake, he deliberately turned away.

So much for sportsmanship, I thought.

The moment the referee blew his whistle, the Alpha charged at me like a bull, fist cocked back for a devastating blow. I had no intention of playing games. As his fist sailed toward my face, I dropped into a crouch, gathering power through my legs and core. I thrust my palm forward into his chest, channeling just enough Guardian strength to send him flying.

He soared through the air, crashing into a tree at the edge of the arena with a sickening thud before crumpling to the ground. Medical staff rushed to check on him, confirming to the referee that he was unconscious.

The referee sighed, shaking his head before raising my hand to declare me the winner. The crowd had fallen completely silent.

"Luna, why did you use your palm instead of your fist?" one of our warriors asked as I exited the ring.

I turned to face my pack members, who were all staring at me curiously.

"Did you see how hard I hit him?" They nodded.

"If I'd used my fist, it would have gone straight through his body. I would have killed him."

Their eyes widened in shock. I noticed several nearby Alphas who'd overheard my explanation exchange nervous glances, suddenly reconsidering their chances in the upcoming rounds.

We hurried to watch Steven's match. By the time we arrived, he had already gained the upper hand, bending his opponent's arm backward until the Alpha slapped the ground in submission. Our pack cheered wildly as Steven was declared the winner.

The morning passed quickly as we moved through the rounds. For my second match, I was paired against an older gentleman who approached me with genuine respect.

"Guardian, it's an honor to meet you," he said with a polite bow. "I'm Alpha Paul. I harbor no illusions about defeating you today, but the opportunity to spar with a Guardian—likely my only chance in this lifetime—is a gift beyond measure."

His eyes sparkled with sincere admiration, not a hint of the resentment or fear I'd seen in other Alphas.

I returned his bow with equal respect.

Here was a true Alpha—one who led with wisdom rather than intimidation. I decided to give him the match he deserved.

We circled each other, exchanging blows in a dance that was more collaborative than competitive. He was surprisingly agile for his age, which I guessed was similar to my father's. When I noticed a weakness in his guard, I pointed it out. He adjusted immediately and offered his own observations about my technique.

"Drop your shoulder slightly when you pivot—it telegraphs your next move."

I corrected my stance, nodding my appreciation.

We continued this exchange of skills until I heard Steven's voice behind me.

"Hazel? What are you doing? This is a competition, not a training session."

Alpha Paul and I paused, looking at each other. He glanced at Steven, then back to me with understanding in his eyes.

"It seems our time is up," he said softly. He dropped to one knee and tapped the ground twice, conceding the match. I reached out to help him up, and we walked off the platform together.

"Thank you, young lady. That was the most enjoyable match I've had in years," he said, squeezing my hand before departing.

Steven stood nearby, his brow furrowed in confusion.