Chapter 10
The combat arena beneath the Council Hall hadn't been used in decades.
Ancient stone walls. Silver-enforced boundaries. Seats rising in a colosseum formation around a circular pit. Torches that lit automatically when we descended the stairs, casting everything in flickering orange.
Five hundred witnesses packed the seats. My father sat in the Royal box, flanked by his generals. His knuckles were white on the armrests.
Serena stood across from me in the pit, dressed in combat gear provided by the court. The silver cuffs had been removed for the fight.
She was rolling her shoulders, smirking. "I've been training since I was twelve, princess. Black belt in three martial disciplines. Top of my class in combat studies."
I said nothing.
"What about you?" She bounced on her toes. "Oh wait — you've been playing house with my ex-fiancé for three years. What training have you done? Cooking? Cleaning?"
The referee stepped forward. "This combat will proceed until one party yields, loses consciousness, or is unable to continue. Shifting is permitted. Weapons are not. Begin on my signal."
Serena dropped into a fighter's stance, perfectly balanced.
I stood still.
"Three. Two. One. BEGIN."
Serena launched forward — fast, trained, precise. A spinning kick aimed at my temple.
I caught her ankle.
Her eyes went wide.
I didn't think. My body moved on pure Royal instinct — centuries of Alpha bloodline compressed into muscle memory I'd never accessed before.
I twisted her ankle. She spun midair. My free hand caught her throat before she hit the ground.
I slammed her into the stone floor.
The impact echoed through the arena.
Serena gasped, the wind knocked out of her. She rolled, scrambled to her feet.
"Lucky shot," she snarled.
She came again. Faster. A combination — jab, cross, knee strike.
I dodged the first two and absorbed the knee on my forearm. Then I stepped inside her guard.
My elbow connected with her solar plexus.
She folded.
I grabbed her hair — the same way she'd grabbed mine in the snow — and drove my knee into her face.
Blood exploded from her nose.
"That's for the wolfsbane," I said.
Serena staggered back, blood streaming. Her eyes went wild with disbelief.
"How — you never trained — this is impossible—"
"I'm a Royal bloodline," I said calmly. "My wolf has been awake for two weeks. That's two weeks of every combat instinct my ancestors ever possessed downloading directly into my nervous system."
I stepped forward.
"You want to know what else my bloodline can do?"
My eyes shifted gold. Not just gold — blazing, solar gold. Light poured from them like twin suns.
The entire arena felt it — the pressure of a Royal Alpha's aura, concentrated and directed at a single target.
Serena dropped to one knee.
Not voluntarily. Her body forced her down.
"No—" she gritted her teeth, fighting it. "I won't — submit—"
She forced herself upright through sheer hatred. And then she shifted.
Her wolf burst forward — grey, lean, fast. She lunged at me with fangs bared.
I shifted too.
My wolf was massive. Pure white with gold markings that glowed like molten metal. Twice the size of Serena's wolf. The Royal bloodline made manifest.
Gasps erupted from the crowd.
"That's — that's a Celestial Wolf—"
"I thought they were extinct—"
"The legends were true—"
Serena's wolf faltered midair. Even her animal instincts recognized a predator so far above her that fighting was suicide.
But she was too far gone. Too consumed by hate. She committed to the lunge.
I caught her by the throat. My jaws closed with careful, controlled pressure — enough to trap. Not enough to kill.
I pinned her wolf to the ground.
She thrashed. Clawed. Snapped at my legs.
I held firm. Immovable. Patient.
Slowly, her thrashing weakened. Her wolf whimpered. Her claws retracted.
And then — with a long, broken sound — Serena's wolf went limp beneath me.
Submission.
I released her throat and shifted back to human form, breathing evenly.
Serena shifted back too, lying naked and beaten on the stone floor, gasping, crying, utterly defeated.
The referee's voice boomed: "The challenged party yields. Victory to the prosecution. Original sentence stands — life imprisonment."
The arena erupted.
I stood over Serena, looking down at the woman who'd spent years tormenting me.
"You wanted to test how strong I was for your thesis," I said quietly. "Now you have your answer."
I turned and walked away.
Behind me, Serena screamed — a sound of pure, unhinged rage:
"THIS ISN'T OVER! YOU HEAR ME? I KNOW ABOUT YOUR MOTHER! I'LL TELL EVERYONE! YOU'LL—"
The warriors silenced her.
But as I climbed the stairs back to my father, I saw something that made my blood freeze.
He wasn't looking at me with pride.
He was looking at me with fear.
Ancient stone walls. Silver-enforced boundaries. Seats rising in a colosseum formation around a circular pit. Torches that lit automatically when we descended the stairs, casting everything in flickering orange.
Five hundred witnesses packed the seats. My father sat in the Royal box, flanked by his generals. His knuckles were white on the armrests.
Serena stood across from me in the pit, dressed in combat gear provided by the court. The silver cuffs had been removed for the fight.
She was rolling her shoulders, smirking. "I've been training since I was twelve, princess. Black belt in three martial disciplines. Top of my class in combat studies."
I said nothing.
"What about you?" She bounced on her toes. "Oh wait — you've been playing house with my ex-fiancé for three years. What training have you done? Cooking? Cleaning?"
The referee stepped forward. "This combat will proceed until one party yields, loses consciousness, or is unable to continue. Shifting is permitted. Weapons are not. Begin on my signal."
Serena dropped into a fighter's stance, perfectly balanced.
I stood still.
"Three. Two. One. BEGIN."
Serena launched forward — fast, trained, precise. A spinning kick aimed at my temple.
I caught her ankle.
Her eyes went wide.
I didn't think. My body moved on pure Royal instinct — centuries of Alpha bloodline compressed into muscle memory I'd never accessed before.
I twisted her ankle. She spun midair. My free hand caught her throat before she hit the ground.
I slammed her into the stone floor.
The impact echoed through the arena.
Serena gasped, the wind knocked out of her. She rolled, scrambled to her feet.
"Lucky shot," she snarled.
She came again. Faster. A combination — jab, cross, knee strike.
I dodged the first two and absorbed the knee on my forearm. Then I stepped inside her guard.
My elbow connected with her solar plexus.
She folded.
I grabbed her hair — the same way she'd grabbed mine in the snow — and drove my knee into her face.
Blood exploded from her nose.
"That's for the wolfsbane," I said.
Serena staggered back, blood streaming. Her eyes went wild with disbelief.
"How — you never trained — this is impossible—"
"I'm a Royal bloodline," I said calmly. "My wolf has been awake for two weeks. That's two weeks of every combat instinct my ancestors ever possessed downloading directly into my nervous system."
I stepped forward.
"You want to know what else my bloodline can do?"
My eyes shifted gold. Not just gold — blazing, solar gold. Light poured from them like twin suns.
The entire arena felt it — the pressure of a Royal Alpha's aura, concentrated and directed at a single target.
Serena dropped to one knee.
Not voluntarily. Her body forced her down.
"No—" she gritted her teeth, fighting it. "I won't — submit—"
She forced herself upright through sheer hatred. And then she shifted.
Her wolf burst forward — grey, lean, fast. She lunged at me with fangs bared.
I shifted too.
My wolf was massive. Pure white with gold markings that glowed like molten metal. Twice the size of Serena's wolf. The Royal bloodline made manifest.
Gasps erupted from the crowd.
"That's — that's a Celestial Wolf—"
"I thought they were extinct—"
"The legends were true—"
Serena's wolf faltered midair. Even her animal instincts recognized a predator so far above her that fighting was suicide.
But she was too far gone. Too consumed by hate. She committed to the lunge.
I caught her by the throat. My jaws closed with careful, controlled pressure — enough to trap. Not enough to kill.
I pinned her wolf to the ground.
She thrashed. Clawed. Snapped at my legs.
I held firm. Immovable. Patient.
Slowly, her thrashing weakened. Her wolf whimpered. Her claws retracted.
And then — with a long, broken sound — Serena's wolf went limp beneath me.
Submission.
I released her throat and shifted back to human form, breathing evenly.
Serena shifted back too, lying naked and beaten on the stone floor, gasping, crying, utterly defeated.
The referee's voice boomed: "The challenged party yields. Victory to the prosecution. Original sentence stands — life imprisonment."
The arena erupted.
I stood over Serena, looking down at the woman who'd spent years tormenting me.
"You wanted to test how strong I was for your thesis," I said quietly. "Now you have your answer."
I turned and walked away.
Behind me, Serena screamed — a sound of pure, unhinged rage:
"THIS ISN'T OVER! YOU HEAR ME? I KNOW ABOUT YOUR MOTHER! I'LL TELL EVERYONE! YOU'LL—"
The warriors silenced her.
But as I climbed the stairs back to my father, I saw something that made my blood freeze.
He wasn't looking at me with pride.
He was looking at me with fear.