Chapter 272 Stand Together

Chapter 272 Stand Together


Coban’s POV

The moment Caden and I stepped off the platform, the sound hit us all over again.
Not just loud, it was alive.
The arena pulsed with it, the kind of energy that crawled under your skin and stayed there long after the moment passed. Cheers rolled in waves, people on their feet, shouting, clapping, some of them still trying to process what they had just watched.
I glanced sideways at Caden, a smirk pulling at the corner of my mouth. “Well,” I said, letting out a slow breath, “I’d say that went better than expected.”
He huffed quietly. “You mean better than everyone else?”
“Details.”
We continued forward, heading toward the announcement area where the others were gathered, but neither of us missed what was happening behind us.
Our lycans hadn’t moved on yet.
Conan and Caden were still out, soaking it in like they had just put on a full performance instead of finishing a brutal course in record time. They waved at the crowd, dipped their heads in exaggerated bows, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were enjoying the attention a little too much.
Then Conan took it further.
He lifted his massive paws up beside his head, wiggled them slightly like some oversized pup trying to be entertaining, then stuck his tongue out at the crowd before shaking his head dramatically.
“Really?” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. “You had to do that today?”
“I’m interacting with my fans,” he shot back, entirely too pleased with himself.
“That’s not interaction,” I replied. “That’s embarrassment.”
The crowd loved it.
Caden snorted. “That’s all you.”
I shook my head as we finally reached the booth, stepping inside and moving into the adjoining room to shift back. The transition was smooth in a way that never really changed no matter how many times it happened.
Moments later, we stepped back out. And just like that, everything narrowed.
Trixie.
She was already on her feet, her expression bright, pride written across her face in a way that hit harder than anything the crowd could’ve thrown at us.
“You both were amazing,” she said, her voice warm as she closed the distance.
She went straight to Caden first, wrapping her arms around his neck as he leaned down to meet her halfway, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. The moment was brief, but it said enough.
Then she turned to me. Her hands slid up around my neck, her eyes still shining as she smiled.
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice just enough that only she could hear me. “So,” I murmured near her ear, “where’s our trophy?”
The reaction was immediate.
Her face flushed, that warmth spreading across her cheeks as she pulled back just enough to smack my chest. “Stop it,” she said, though the smile didn’t leave her face. “I am not anyone’s trophy.”
I raised a brow.
She winked. “And don’t you forget it.”
Caden chuckled beside us. “You walked into that one.”
“I regret nothing,” I replied.
We settled in near the front, our attention going back to the course as the next set of runners prepared to go. 
The expectations had changed. The bar wasn’t just raised anymore.
It had been redefined.
The whistle blew.
They ran.
And this time they pushed even harder.
“These two aren’t holding back,” Cassian said, leaning forward slightly as he followed their movement.
“They can’t afford to,” I replied.
They moved through the first section with urgency, not reckless but definitely faster than what we had seen earlier in the day. The second section followed with only minor hesitation, both of them adjusting quickly enough to keep their momentum intact.
“They’re actually trying to keep up,” Caden noted.
“They’re trying to survive,” I corrected.
They hit the climb, and for a moment I thought one of them might slip. His grip faltered just slightly, just enough to notice, but he recovered before it cost him.
“Close,” Cassian muttered.
“Too close,” I agreed.
They reached the fire. Neither of them hesitated. Not this time.
They pushed through it cleanly, both making smarter decisions than the earlier runners, not trying anything flashy, just getting through it.
“Finally,” Caden said under his breath.
Then came the ice.
They slowed. But they didn’t stop.
Step by step, they worked their way across, their focus locked in as the crowd quieted just enough to feel the tension building.
And then they crossed.
Both of them.
A beat of silence hit before the arena erupted again.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Cassian said, shaking his head. “You two really lit a fire under them.”
I let out a small breath, watching as the runners celebrated. “It had to be done,” I said. “We only had a handful make it through before that.”
“Not anymore,” Caden added.
Before the moment could settle, Atlas stepped forward slightly, that familiar look already in place.
“So, dad,” he said, his tone far too casual to be innocent, “Ryder and Evander both said they’re running next.”
I didn’t even try to hide the grin that formed. “Oh, did they?” I asked.
Atlas smirked. “They did.”
Evander rolled his eyes immediately. “I did not say that like that.”
“You said it,” Atlas replied.
“That’s not the same thing.”
Ryder, on the other hand, didn’t react much at all. He stood there, calm, composed, like this entire conversation didn’t concern him in the slightest.
Which made it more interesting.
I turned my attention fully to him, raising a brow slightly. “So, Ryder,” I said, letting a hint of challenge slip into my tone, “you going to give it a shot?”
He met my gaze without hesitation, though there was the faintest flicker of something behind his eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, rolling one shoulder slightly. “They don’t want to see that.”
I glanced at Caden briefly, then back at Ryder. “The exact opposite,” I said.
His brow lifted just a fraction.
“I think it’s exactly what they need to see,” I continued, my tone steady now. “A united front.”
The room quieted just enough for the weight of that to settle. “That we stand together,” I added.