The ride to the trials felt like being driven to my own execution.
Five enforcers sat behind me, silent and stone-faced. Beta Ethan had said they were for my protection, but we both knew the truth—they were there to make sure I didn't run. His last words still echoed in my head: "If you try to escape or talk, Amilia dies."
I'd said goodbye to her that morning, pretending to be brave. My chest still ached from it.
Three hours later, the car rolled to a stop.
The first thing I saw was the gate—black iron spiked with cast-wolf heads glinting under the sun. Beyond it rose a building too elegant to be anything but dangerous.
A cold wind brushed against my arms as one enforcer opened my door. I didn't move.
"Out," he grunted.
I drew in a breath, reached inward for my wolf's strength, and stepped out.
Two massive guards with radios stood at the gate. They checked names, then nodded for us to pass. Dozens of other she-wolves waited in line—each with their own escorts, each radiating nerves or arrogance.
I was told Mark couldn't come yet—something about "urgent duties". I'd never been more relieved.
Inside the compound, order reigned. Enforcers were separated from the competitors. Representatives disappeared into the palace, and I was herded into a smaller white building nearby. A woman dressed head-to-toe in white sat behind a desk.
"Name and faction," she said briskly.
"Elena Fox, Creed faction"
She scanned my signa, typed something into her computer, and handed me a small tag. "Room 214. End of the hall."
Room 214 buzzed with low conversation when I entered. Every head turned toward me, eyes assessing. No smiles. Then, disinterest.
"Hi," I offered.
Silence.
I swallowed and walked to the only empty bed—closest to the bathroom. Figures.
I was unpacking when a lazy voice spoke behind me. "Hi."
A girl lay on her back, a book resting on her chest, her dark eyes amused.
"Hi," I replied carefully.
"I'm Amara. Thompson Faction."
"Elena. Creed Faction."
"Don't mind the redhead glaring holes into you," she said, tilting her head toward the corner. "That's Rein. Looks scary, but she's all bark. Though," she smirked, "she can kill you in your sleep if you snore."
"I heard that, Amara," came a voice like fire. The redhead rose, her movements smooth, predatory. She was tall, lean, all coiled power. "I don't kill sleepers. Not my style."
"Good," I muttered under my breath.
They both laughed. I couldn't help but grin.
"I like you already," Rein said, dragging a chair closer. "Bruce Faction. Amara and I go way back. Our Betas are friends. You've got the air mark? Nice, attack power suits you."
"Yeah," I said, forcing confidence. "My wolf can handle herself."
Rein's eyes glimmered—sharp, measuring—but she didn't push.
A crackle from the wall speaker cut through our conversation.
"All candidates will meet the Alpha King in one hour. Dress in formal gowns. Assemble in front of the main building in thirty minutes."
Rein groaned. "Ugh. Gowns. My mum packed two, said I'd 'need them.' Well, Mum, you win."
I chuckled.
The room shifted. The others began preparing. I joined in, sorting through the few clothes the faction had provided. My hand paused on an aqua backless gown. It shimmered faintly under the light, simple, elegant. I slipped it on with silver heels and let my hair fall loose.
"Here," Amara said, holding out a silver pearl necklace. "It'll suit you."
"Oh, I couldn't—"
"I insist."
I clasped it on. "Thank you."
"You look perfect," she said.
By the time we were done, Amara shimmered in ash gray, Rein in sleek black with a thigh-high slit that screamed danger. They insisted on doing my makeup—soft, natural.
When we reached the hall, the air practically hummed with anticipation. Gold chandeliers, crimson carpets, floral arrangements; it was opulence designed to remind us of the wealth the Alpha King possess.
We found a table near the left side of the podium. Laughter and chatter filled the air—too loud, too desperate.
"I heard he's gorgeous," a she-wolf at the next table squealed. "I can't wait to see him!"
Rein rolled her eyes, and I bit back a smile.
The doors opened, and Alpha King Drake entered.Then silence fell—heavy, instant.
Even from across the hall, his presence burned through the room. Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dressed in a crisp white shirt, the top buttons undone, black trousers that moved with predatory ease. Power radiated from him, not loud, but absolute.
My wolf stirred—awake for the first time in days.
He was about to sit when his gaze found mine, it was like being pinned beneath a storm. Time stopped. Breath stopped. My chest tightened until he looked away, releasing me like a snapped thread.
'What the hell was that?'
A female council member took the stage, her voice firm but smooth.
"Welcome to the Trials. For generations, this sacred test has chosen our Luna Queens—the strongest to stand beside the Alpha King. Four top she-wolves will become her protectors. Remember—no fighting outside the arena. Break this rule, and you're done. May the best she-wolf win."
Applause thundered. Then Alpha King Drake stepped forward.
"Elder Jane has said it all," he said, his voice a low command. "You are safe here. The missing werewolves are under investigation, and I will find those responsible. For now, enjoy tonight. Eat. Rest. Tomorrow, your fate begins. May the best she-wolf win."
He stepped back to applause. No one mentioned the deaths that would surely come.
As food and music filled the hall, Amara nudged me. "Why the face? You look like you're mourning."
"Feels like they're feeding us our last meal," I said.
She sighed. "Don't say that."
Rein handed me another glass. "Then drink. If we're dying tomorrow, we might as well do it tipsy."
I laughed weakly, sipping.
Then a ripple moved through the crowd. Heads turned.
"What's going on?" Amara whispered.
I followed her gaze. Alha King Drake was crossing the room, speaking briefly with groups of girls.
"He's checking his products," I muttered.
Rein nearly spit out her wine. "Elena!"
Amara gasped. "We are not products!"
"Relax. I'm drunk. I can say whatever I want."
Rein's eyes widened. "He's coming over here."
My stomach dropped.
"Oh, no," I whispered. "Anywhere but this table."