"The air tasted of blood and destiny."
The Festival grounds erupted in chaos the moment Gideon's challenge left his lips.
Gasps transformed into shouts, whispered speculation tangled into roars of excitement. Students surged forward like a tide, desperate for a better view of what promised to be the most significant supernatural event in Academy history. The silver banners and paper lanterns swayed violently in the sudden rush of movement, their gentle festival glow now illuminating something far darker than celebration.
The scent of adrenaline and bloodlust began to permeate the evening air, making my enhanced senses reel from the intensity of so many wolves anticipating violence.
Because everyone present knew exactly what Gideon's formal words meant, even if some had never witnessed it before.
Duels for mates were sacred law among our kind. Ancient traditions that predated the Academy, the pack structures, even the cities that had grown up around our supernatural communities. Once declared under the full moon's witness, they became binding obligations that no authority could ignore or dismiss.
"It's pack law," someone hissed from the crowd, voice carrying clearly on the charged air. "He's formally challenged Fenrir—"
"For a rejected mate?" another voice questioned with disbelief.
"She's not rejected anymore, didn't you hear the declaration—"
"This changes everything—"
"The Council will have to recognize it—"
"Blood will spill tonight—"
The voices tangled together, disbelief and awe colliding in the atmosphere until it felt like the very air was vibrating with supernatural tension. Students who'd come expecting nothing more exciting than traditional dancing and ceremonial blessings now found themselves witnesses to something that would be talked about for generations.
My stomach dropped as if I'd stepped off a cliff, my chest seizing as the mate bond pulsed violently in response to the escalating conflict. My wolf strained against my consciousness with desperate approval, thrilled at the prospect of seeing her mate fight for the right to claim us. The primitive part of my nature that remained purely animal reveled in being considered worth battling for, worth bleeding for.
But my human pride rose just as fiercely, clawing against the very idea that my fate could be settled like a wager between two dominant males. The thought of being reduced to a prize, a trophy to be won through violence, made bile rise in my throat.
"No!" My voice cracked across the courtyard with enough force to cut through the chaos, sharp enough to make every enhanced ear present turn in my direction. I stepped forward, my ceremonial gown bright as captured starlight beneath the full moon's glow, my hands trembling with fury and fear in equal measure. "Stop this madness right now. I am not a prize to be won!"
The crowd faltered at my outburst, excited whispers stuttering into shocked silence as they processed the unprecedented sight of a contested mate publicly refusing the ritual meant to honor her.
Darius's golden gaze burned as it turned to focus on me with laser intensity. For a single heartbeat, the supernatural storm raging in his eyes seemed to soften, as if my words had reached something deeper than his Alpha instincts. But then the steel returned, his pride reasserting itself with the force of centuries of breeding, his wolf utterly unwilling to step back from a formal challenge.
"This isn't about treating you as a prize," he said, his voice pitched low but carrying clearly across the silent courtyard. "This is about protecting what's mine."
The possessive declaration cut deeper than I'd expected, slicing through my defenses like a blade finding its mark. My wolf thrilled at the words, practically purring with exultant satisfaction, but my heart clenched with fury at the casual assumption of ownership.
"Yours?" I spat, trembling with the effort of containing the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "You rejected me, Darius. You called me weak and unworthy in front of half the Academy. Remember that before you dare to claim me now."
A fresh ripple of gasps surged through the assembled crowd at my public reminder of his brutal rejection. Students exchanged excited glances, their supernatural hearing ensuring that every cutting word would be remembered and repeated until it became Academy legend.
But Darius didn't flinch at the accusation. His jaw tightened until I could see the muscle jumping beneath his skin, his broad chest heaving with controlled breaths, but his pride burned brighter than any shame he might have felt.
From across the circle that had formed around us, Gideon's laughter rang out clear and cold, cruel enough to make several students step back instinctively. His earlier bruises from the confrontation were already fading thanks to supernatural healing, but they only added a dangerous edge to his sharp features that made his predatory smile more unsettling.
"There it is," he drawled, amber eyes glittering with malicious satisfaction. "The great Alpha heir who can't even hold to his own word. Tell me, Fenrir—do you always discard things only to snatch them back when someone else shows interest?"
He took a deliberate step forward, his own dominance rolling off him in waves that made the air feel thick and oppressive. His calculating gaze slid deliberately to me, and something in those amber depths made my skin crawl with unease.
"Don't worry, Elara," he said, voice pitched to carry to every corner of the courtyard. "When I win this challenge, I'll treat you with the respect and devotion you deserve. Unlike some people, I don't make promises I'm not prepared to keep."
The words made bile rise in my throat, but not for the reasons Gideon probably intended. My wolf snarled inside my chest, furious and rejecting his implied claim utterly. Every supernatural instinct I possessed recoiled from the idea of belonging to anyone other than my fated mate, regardless of how badly that mate had hurt me.
But the crowd leaned in with hunger, intoxicated by the drama unfolding before them, drunk on the promise of blood that would be spilled beneath the goddess's sacred moon.
I shook my head desperately, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as the full reality of what was happening began to sink in. "Don't do this. Either of you. Please—there has to be another way—"
But neither Alpha moved. Neither Alpha showed any sign of listening to my pleas.
The mate bond pulsed again, violent and relentless, dragging me toward Darius even as my pride screamed at me to push him away. Around us, the Festival drums that had provided such beautiful background music began to beat again—not in celebration this time, but in the ancient rhythm of ritual combat.
The sound echoed like a massive heartbeat across the stone courtyard, the primordial call of trial by combat that had been used to settle disputes for millennia before human civilization had even existed.
Academy instructors began pushing through the crowd, their expressions grim but resigned as they recognized their legal obligation to oversee what was about to unfold. Pack law superseded institutional authority in matters like this, leaving them no choice but to witness and officiate.
Head Trainer Korver stepped forward, his weathered face grave with the weight of what he was about to make official. When he raised his scarred hand for silence, every voice in the courtyard immediately stilled.
"By the ancient laws of our kind," he announced, his voice carrying the solemn authority of centuries of tradition, "under the witness of the full moon and before the assembled pack, the formal challenge has been given and acknowledged."
His gaze swept between Darius and Gideon, heavy with warning about the binding nature of what they were invoking. "You will fight for the right to claim her as mate. Combat will continue until one yields, is rendered unable to continue, or..." He paused, the unspoken possibility hanging in the air like smoke. "The goddess herself will judge who is worthy."
The courtyard erupted again, this time with pure frenzy that seemed to shake the ancient stone foundations. Wolves stamped their feet in rhythm with the ritual drums, howls rising to the silver moon above as the ancient rite awakened something primal and bloodthirsty in every heart present.
My breath came in shallow gasps, my entire body trembling as the full moon climbed higher overhead, spilling its ethereal light across the circle that had formed around us. The goddess's silver radiance seemed to bless what was about to unfold, lending divine approval to traditions older than memory.
And with that sacred light bearing witness, the formal duel was declared binding and inescapable.
Darius Fenrir versus Gideon Wicke.
Fighting for the right to claim me, whether I wanted to be claimed or not.