Calla's pov.
"You think this is a game, Callie? You really going through with this?"
The torchlight did nothing to soften the stone walls of the Lycan arena. Night had already fallen, bringing a tense quiet to the kingdom. I could hear the low sound of boots and shifting fur as werewolves filed through the massive gates. The air smelled of damp earth and restless power. This trial was fast, sudden, and Derata's standing was squarely in the line of fire. I had to be here.
I stood far back, watching the crowd settle. They were here for a show. They were here for Elara Yadev, the Empire's prize archer. No one spared a second glance at a rogue like me. They expected me to fall flat.
A collective gasp moved through the crowd when Elara stepped into the light. Dark hair pulled into a severe braid. Dress tight and ready for action. She carried a gleaming unstrung bow in one hand and moved like someone who knew she couldn't be touched. Gladys walked beside her, chest broader than usual, jaw tight with possessive pride. He looked like the arena belonged to him just because she was in it.
I dropped my gaze. A familiar knot tightened in my chest.
Then I saw Derata. She was looking only at me, a bow and quiver in her hands.
"Thanks for doing this, Callie," she muttered, holding the gear out. "Alpha Aedric told me to give you these."
I stared at the bow. The crest of the Luminary Pack was etched into the wood. A warm wave of relief and pride moved through me. I met her eyes and we shared a quick, silent smile.
"Alpha Aedric is taking a real chance on me," I whispered.
"More than a chance." Her voice was hard with resolve. She looked past me at the arena. "But you are the Goddess of War. This is nothing."
I swallowed, my hands finding a strong, familiar grip on the bow.
Elara was already across the arena. She gave me a confident, chilly smirk before turning her back and walking toward the center. She didn't need words.
Gladys didn't follow her. He walked straight toward me, eyes dark.
"You love making a fool of yourself, don't you, Callie?" He grabbed my arm, fingers digging in.
I yanked back. "Let go of me."
"You're about to embarrass yourself. It's not too late to walk away. Do you honestly think you can beat Elara?"
I pulled harder. He tightened his grip.
"For once. Just once. Be smart."
A trumpet blared. I twisted hard and ripped my arm free.
"This is the smart choice," I said, my voice low and steady. "The best choice I've made in five years."
Derata rushed forward and gripped both my hands. Her fear and her trust passed right through her skin into mine. For one second the noise of the crowd fell away. Then I stepped past her and into the open arena.
The noise hit like a wall. My eyes went straight to Elara. She was already mounted, sitting perfectly straight, bow ready, that smirk unmoved.
I could feel Gladys's eyes on me. They weren't mocking. They were fixed on Elara, captivated in a way he had never been by me. The sting of it went down fast.
The drums started. Slow and heavy.
"Three stages," the announcer called, his voice rolling off the stone. "First, shoot three arrows into the bullseyes. Second, mount your horse and strike the bullseyes again. Third, ride at full gallop and shatter the swaying lantern."
Silence fell over the stands. Everyone leaned forward.
Elara dismounted first. Clean, practiced movements. Her arrows flew like steel cables, striking the bullseyes in rapid succession. The crowd roared.
I was stringing my bow when I saw the horse meant for me. Wild-eyed, nostrils flared, hooves hammering the ground. Alpha Aedric appeared at my side, his face tight.
"The horse we prepared is sick. No warning. That animal is completely wild, Callie. It's too dangerous. Please. Just quit. Come home."
I looked at it for a few seconds. If I walked away now, the shame would stick to Derata and it would stick to me forever. I reached out and placed my hand lightly on its neck, whispering low and steady until the massive beast stilled for one tense, brief moment.
I notched my first arrow.
The world went quiet. I drew tight and released. Dead center.
Before the crowd could breathe, the next two followed, splitting the first shafts clean down the middle.
The hush that followed was deeper than silence. Not a sound. Eyes moved from the target to me. Elara's composure cracked first. Her gaze snapped across the arena, wide with raw, bitter surprise. She was a fine archer. She had never seen this.
I let the bow hang low and said nothing. The stunned silence was answer enough.
Stage two.
The wild horse let out an angry whinny and tried to bolt the moment I mounted. I grabbed the reins and held. My heart hammered against my ribs. I found the targets through the horse's lurching movements. Each arrow landed clean. The whispers in the crowd shifted. A few voices started to cheer. Elara's smirk flickered. I didn't look at her.
Stage three.
The swaying lantern hung high above the arena. Elara set her bow, the lines around her mouth tight. This night had not gone how she planned.
She kicked her horse into motion. The bowstring sang. The arrow cut through the air and missed.
Disappointment rippled through the crowd. She pulled the reins hard, forced her horse to slow, and tried again. The arrow struck the lantern but didn't shatter it. No cheers. Her face went still for a split second, a flash of pure surprise crossing it before she smoothed it away.
I turned to my horse. I ran my hands along its sweating flank, steadying it until it stilled. I notched my final arrow. Aimed at the swinging light.
The horse exploded without warning, bolting hard toward the arena wall. Gasps tore through the crowd.
I didn't move. I waited. At full gallop, with the stone barrier rushing toward me, I released.
Then I shifted my weight, rolled clean off the horse's back, and landed on my feet.
The arrow struck true.
The lantern shattered.