The taste of blood lingered in my mouth long after the fight was over. No matter how many times I swallowed, it coated my tongue, bitter and unrelenting. I had survived the Blood Oath, but the weight in my chest told me survival wasn't enough.
The System had made sure of that.
New Mission: Kill the rival she-wolf within three days.
Failure: Permanent death.
Permanent. The word echoed inside me like a death knell. The System had given punishments before—pain, bleeding, unbearable pressure in my chest—but this time, it wasn't threatening suffering. It was threatening the end.
And the rival was already watching me.
She leaned against the stone pillar at the edge of the training circle, a cruel smile curving her lips. Liora. That was her name. The perfect she-wolf. Silken hair that gleamed black under the torches, eyes like polished emeralds, and a voice that dripped honey when Ronan was near. She was everything I wasn't, everything the pack believed I could never be.
And she knew it.
When the crowd dispersed, I caught the faint sound of her laugh. It followed me like a shadow as I walked back toward the castle.
My body ached from the fight. Each step burned, but I couldn't falter. Not when every eye might still be on me.
Inside my chambers, I collapsed onto the chair near the hearth. My claws trembled as they retracted, and I pressed my hands hard against my knees, grounding myself.
"Three days," I whispered. "How do you expect me to kill her in three days?"
The System's voice slithered into my skull.
By any means necessary. Failure is not an option.
"And if I refuse?"
Death.
I slammed my fist against the arm of the chair. The wood splintered beneath my hand.
I didn't want to kill her. She might be cruel, but she was not my enemy—not truly. Yet the System had turned her into one. And I knew what it was capable of. If I disobeyed, it wouldn't hesitate to end me.
But Ronan would never forgive me if I laid a hand on her.
The door creaked open. I froze.
Ronan.
He stepped inside without knocking, his presence filling the room like a storm. He wasn't in armor now, but even in plain dark clothes, he looked like power wrapped in flesh. His golden eyes swept over me, lingering on the bruises forming across my arms.
"You should have the healer look at those." His voice was low, rough.
I lifted my chin. "They'll heal."
His jaw tightened, as if my defiance annoyed him. He stepped closer, and the firelight brushed against the sharp planes of his face. For a moment, he looked less like the merciless Alpha and more like a man fighting ghosts.
"You fought well tonight," he said finally. "Better than I expected."
It should have felt like a compliment, but the weight in his tone stripped it bare.
"You wanted me to fail."
His eyes narrowed. "I wanted the truth. And truth is born in blood."
A shiver ran down my spine. He believed every word. To him, pain and loyalty were carved from the same blade.
I should have stayed silent, but the words spilled out. "How many times do I have to bleed before you believe me?"
The air between us tightened. His gaze pinned me in place, fierce and unrelenting.
And then—just for a heartbeat—it softened.
His hand lifted, fingers brushing close to my jaw. I held my breath, waiting, wanting to know if the ruthless Alpha could ever touch me without anger.
But his hand never reached me. He stopped, curling his fingers into a fist again.
"Don't mistake survival for redemption," he said coldly. "You've proven you can fight. You haven't proven you can be trusted."
He turned to leave, but I couldn't let him go. Not now.
"Ronan." His name caught in my throat. "If trust is what you want, tell me how to earn it. Tell me what I need to do."
He paused at the door, his back rigid.
"Don't betray me again," he said. And then he was gone.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Three days later, the System hissed. Tick, tock, tick, tock.
I pressed my hands to my face, forcing back the scream clawing at my throat.
Killing Liora would prove betrayal, no matter how the System spun it. But refusing meant death.
I was trapped.
The next day, whispers spread through the castle like fire. Liora was at the center of them all, her laughter echoing down the corridors, her voice laced with venom disguised as sweetness.
"She's dangerous."
"She's trying to steal from the pack."
"She'll betray him again."
I knew the lies came from her lips, but no one questioned them. Why would they? To them, I was already guilty.
By dusk, I found myself at the library, desperate for silence. The scent of old parchment filled the air, and I let the shadows wrap around me as I sank into a chair.
But the quiet didn't last.
Footsteps approached, deliberate and sharp. I didn't have to look up to know who it was.
Liora.
She leaned against the doorway, her emerald eyes glinting with amusement. "Still alive, I see. Pity."
My claws threatened to slip free, but I forced them back. "What do you want?"
She sauntered closer, her crimson dress whispering against the stone floor. "To see how long you'll last. Ronan may let you play, but you and I both know it won't last. Wolves don't forgive traitors."
Her words were knives. She wanted me rattled. Wanted me weak.
But the System hissed in my head.
Opportunity detected. Remove the rival now.
Not here. Not like this. I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms.
"You're wrong," I said. My voice was steady, though my chest ached. "I won't break."
She laughed, low and cruel. "We'll see."
She turned and left, her laughter lingering like poison in the air.
My heart pounded. I could have killed her just now. One strike. One moment.
But if I had… Ronan would never forgive me.
I pressed a hand to my chest. "There has to be another way."
The System was silent.
That night, I dreamed of fire. Of blood dripping from my hands, Liora's lifeless eyes staring back at me. And in the shadows, Ronan's voice whispered, cold and furious—You betrayed me again.
I woke drenched in sweat.
And I knew time was running out.
---
The next evening, the packs gathered in the great hall. Ronan stood at the head of the room, his presence filling every corner. Liora was at his side, draped in scarlet, her hand resting lightly on his arm as though she already belonged there.
The sight burned.
But then his eyes found mine. For a heartbeat, something flickered in them. Not hate. Not trust. Something in between.
Before I could place it, he turned back to the court.
"We face unrest at our borders," he said, his voice carrying through the hall. "Our enemies grow bold. We must stand united."
Cheers rose from the wolves, but my mind wasn't on his words. It was on Liora.
The System's voice slithered again.
Two days left. Remove her or perish.
I swallowed hard, my gaze locking on the rival who smiled so sweetly at the Alpha.
And then, as though she sensed me, Liora's eyes flicked toward mine. Her smile curved sharper, more dangerous.
Because she knew.
She knew exactly what the System had demanded of me.
And she wanted me to try.