Cyrus and I refused the living accommodations inside the castle and preferred to sleep in the large tent outside with our packmates. After seeing Axil, we’d left and I’d slept in one of the eight hammocks set up inside of the sizeable shelter. I’d much rather have my packmates watching my back while I slept than sleep alone in a room inside the belly of the beast.

To be honest, hearing Axil tell me that I shouldn’t have come had shaken me. I felt as unwanted as he’d made me feel all those years ago. I shouldn’t allow it to bother me, but it did. After the cruel way he’d broken up with me at camp, to now tell me that I shouldn’t have come was awful and I hated him for it. My brain chewed on it all night until I was fuming with rage.

How. Dare. He.

I was quiet all through breakfast as my packmates made a meal of fresh rabbitin and quail eggs they’d hunted that morning.

Cyrus leaned into me, looking across the camp at a familiar woman. She was the one who had been wearing the gold dress the night before.

“Ivanna Rivers. Crestline pack, second in command,” he said, and chills ran down my arms. Second? She made second in a pack full of dominant males! Crestline was known for its brutality. A formidable group of wolves who lived in the harshest climate in Fallenmoore. They sometimes got up to six feet of snow in winter and had to go days without food. They were even rumored to eat their own kind in a famine. She would be hardened and probably my biggest competitor.

She too had chosen to sleep in the tent with her packmates, a stone’s throw from mine. I watched as she and her battle coach walked together to the check-in tent across the lawn. She held my stare the entire time, which stirred my wolf.

“Come on, let’s go check in with the red robes,” Cyrus said sarcastically, gesturing to the wolf advisors.

I dipped my chin and we both stood as our packmates wished me good luck. I followed my brother over to a check-in table where I was given a blue-colored card by an advisor and told to go to the corresponding colored challenger tent.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Cyrus told me. I nodded curtly and stepped into the blue tent.

Ivanna was there, standing in the middle holding a blue card as well. She glared me down as I entered and I moved in a circle around her with predatorial instinct.

She spun to match my movements, never allowing me her back. She was taller than me, and lean, with about the same muscle mass. She was one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen. Her long dark hair hung down her back in thick glossy curls and her golden skin was riddled with scars up her arms from fighting. It took a lot to scar a wolven. Her chin was perfectly pointed, as was her nose and her pink lips were full and puckered.

There were two tents, red and blue which meant Ivanna and I were not fighting each other. Not today at least. For now, it seemed we were on the same ‘team.’

Eliza stepped into the tent then and I noticed how pale she looked. I broke eye contact with Ivanna and glanced at the too-nice wolf.

“We’re going to be allowed weapons,” the Death Mountain wolf announced with far too much nervousness in her voice.

“Great.” I stood and rolled out my neck.

I loved weapons of all kinds. Swords, daggers, throwing stars, a heavy mace. My blood pumped just thinking about it.

Ivanna stood up straighter, apparently not liking my tall stature next to her.

“I am a weapon,” Ivanna announced to the tent as more women trickled in. “So I’ll pass.”

Chills broke out along my arms at her declaration. Did she say that just to get in my head? Or was she really going to pass on the chance to have a weapon?

That was crazy, but also something Cyrus would approve of because it had gotten in my head.

Should I pass too? I didn’t want to look weak for my first fight, especially not if the king was watching. After our run-in last night, I wanted to show him what he had been missing this whole time.

“King Axil is outside right now, making his way to the combat ring,” Eliza said as if reading my mind.

Ivanna and I shared a look and then we were back in a locked stare.

I can do this all day, I thought.

She was clearly looking to see if Eliza’s comment had elicited a reaction from me but I stayed completely void of any facial expression.

More competitors filtered into the tent and then one of the wolven advisors to the king strode into the space, wearing his long red robe. Ivanna and I finally broke our stare-down when the advisor stood directly in front of me, forcing me to look up at him. He held a small wooden box with tiny stone replicas of over a dozen weapons.

“Zara, for the Queen Trials you have been ranked in order of dominance. Because you are number one, you may pick first weapon. Once you have chosen, you will go to the weapons tent where they will exchange this with you for the life-sized version.”

My heart pounded in my chest at that shocking announcement. So it was a dominance ranking. And I’d made number one? How? Ivanna was second in command of her pack. Did Dorian give them an assessment of me or something?

Who cares, I thought to myself.

I knew what Cyrus would counsel me. If Ivanna, who was number two and my biggest competitor, was taking no weapon, then I should pass as well.

“Pass,” I said and turned away from the box. A few women in the tent gasped and the advisor stepped closer to me.

“Excuse me?”

I looked him dead in the eyes. “Pass. I don’t need a weapon,” I told him.

He shook himself as if coming out of a trance and walked over to Ivanna. “Ivanna Rivers, second place. Pick your weapon.”

She glanced at me and grinned, and I knew in that moment that I’d been played. Reaching into the box, she pulled out a tiny replica of a nice broadsword and twirled it expertly in her fingers.

“Nice choice,” the advisor informed her.

I kept my face completely calm, forced my wolf down and began to twist my dark brown hair between my fingers in mock boredom, as if what she’d just done hadn’t bothered me at all. But deep down inside I was furious … and yet also praising her genius. She’d just gotten the number one pick to go into a fight without a weapon. She could essentially knock me out of the race before it even got started. Without even having to fight me! I wanted to hate her, but she’d earned my respect in that moment.

Eliza sidled up next to me while the other girls chose their weapons and there was a pang of sadness when I was reminded that her number was twenty-four. Probably the last or second to last. City people were weak, it was well-known.

“Any advice?” she whispered to me. “You’re such a badass, and I’d love to live through today.”

Her eyes swam with tears and I reached out and slapped her hard across the face. She gasped and her wolf surfaced, her pupils threading through with yellow.

People in the tent turned to us but I ignored them. Instead, I grabbed her lightly by the scruff of the neck and pulled her ear to my lips. “Keep your wolf out when fighting in human form. Your human side is too emotional and it will cost you. Fight dirty. Use every angle you have.”

She nodded, cinnamon blonde fur rippling down the sides of her face.

“You know who you will be fighting?” I asked her in a low voice.

She dipped her chin. “Number twenty-two.”

“No, I mean do you know her?”

She seemed to catch on and then nodded again. “Malin Clearwater. Base Mountain pack.”

It seemed like the fights were weighted and they’d pit us against someone of a similar strength to us. That was both good and bad news for me. Good because when I killed mine, I’d be taking out a strong member and bad because I’d chosen no weapon.

“What can you use against her?” I questioned, letting go of her neck. “Does she have any weaknesses? Fears? Sick mother, ex-boyfriend, phobias?”

Her eyes widened as if what I’d just mentioned was pure evil but then she nodded. “Her … her thigh bone broke last year and never fully set right again. She favors one leg. And … her boyfriend cheated on her this summer.”

“Good. What’s the name of the girl he cheated with?” I demand. The advisor was almost to her and I knew he’d bring her the crappiest weapon because it would be picked last. A small dagger probably.

“Alessia,” she muttered, looking stricken.

“Go in there, ask her how Alessia is doing and then kick out her bad leg, re-breaking her thigh bone,” I instructed. I knew I shouldn’t be giving her any advice at all and Cyrus would warn against it, but something about her innocence and weakness triggered my dominant desire to protect her.

Her mouth popped open in shock, her wolf retreating as her eyes returned to their normal blue color. She said nothing in response. I could smell the fear on her and I hated that she’d even been chosen to compete. She didn’t belong here.

“Do you want to live?” I asked her plainly.

She swallowed hard and nodded and then it was too late to speak any longer. The advisor was here and he held the box towards her with two choices.

A small dagger and a throwing knife.

She looked at me.

“Dagger,” I told her and she took the tiny replica of the blade, ready to exchange it in the weapons tent for the larger life-sized version.

The advisor appraised me once again, his hazel-eyed gaze searing right into mine. “Last chance?” He offered me the throwing knife.

I could feel Ivanna’s glare burning into me without even looking. If I took this puny weapon, she won.

I shook my head and he snapped the box shut.

“Everyone follow me,” he stated and walked out of the tent.

As a group we stepped out into the sunlight in a single file line and followed the advisor. The entire front lawn of the palace was jam-packed with wolves from all over the realm, but they parted as we passed.

“Go, Mud Flat pack!” someone screamed and I couldn’t help a grin. I recognized the voice as one of my packmates.

“Wash Basin pack!” another chanted.

“Eagle Cliff pack!” More chants and then howls and pretty soon the crowd was deafening, cheering on their favorite contestant or packmate.

When we reached a large open area that had been roped off into a circle, my eyes searched for Axil. The king. A little jolt of electricity ran through me as I found him already watching me. He was wearing a red silk tunic, unbuttoned at the chest. The sun shone on his tan skin as he sat upon a raised throne that looked out over the fighting area.

At the sight of him and the fighting ring, again I was pulled into a memory of our summer together.

“Axil Moon, you are up to spar. Pick your opponent,” Coach Varryl had said.

It was the second day of camp, and although Axil and I had spent the previous night dancing and kissing, I didn’t know if that was just a one-night thing. All of the students stood in a ring around the thick foam mats where the wrestling match was about to begin and Axil walked slowly past each person. Some of the males growled at him as if begging him to pick them. I hoped he wasn’t one of those guys who wouldn’t spar with a girl because he was afraid of hurting her. I wanted him to know I wasn’t delicate. When he passed me, I stepped out of line and right up to him, tipping my chin up as if to say, choose me.

The lopsided grin he gave me was so enticing my legs went weak.

“I choose Zara Swiftwater.”

I tied my long hair up and handed my shoes to a friend before going to stand before Axil on the mats. My heart raced as we walked around each other, sizing the other up. I could feel the dominance coming off of him in waves. His gaze was difficult to hold for too long, though not impossible, and I felt that for him to really want to be with me, he had to know I was strong.

The coach blew his whistle and I charged forward, sweeping my leg out and pulling Axil off his feet. He went down with a grin and I leapt on top of him, straddling his waist as our friends and fellow campgoers went wild with cheers. The moment I positioned myself on top of him he bucked upward with his pelvis and grabbed my arms, throwing me to the side and then reorienting himself so that he was now on top of me. It happened so fast I could barely track it. He was sitting on my ribcage, pinning my arms down, and the screaming of excitement around us was deafening.

“It’s okay to tap out,” he teased.

“Never,” I growled and a fire lit in his eyes.

But he had underestimated my flexibility. Because he was sitting on my ribcage and not my pelvis, I was able to throw my legs upward and cross my ankles in front of his neck, pulling him backwards off of me. He went down hard and I rolled away, taking him into a chokehold. I thought for sure he was going to tap out but he reached up and pried my arms away from his neck.

I growled in frustration and then he flipped over, reaching down to pick me up, tossing me over his shoulders like a scarf. The crowd went wild as Axil walked over to the coach.

“Call it off,” he begged. “She’s my future wife and I can’t hurt her.”

All of the girls at camp gave a collective ‘aww’ and I couldn’t help but grin. Axil was a charmer and I was fully under his spell.

The coach blew his whistle and gave us both a little chuckle.

“Young love,” he muttered.

Now I forced myself to push away the memory and look away from Axil, not liking the effect he had on me and not wanting Ivanna to get wind of our past romance.

The grassy fighting area was quite large, big enough for us to shift into our wolf form and run circles around our opponent without feeling squished.

The red-tent fighters lined up around the edge of the rope opposite us, then the king stood and cleared his throat.

“We’ve long held the belief that a queen does not deserve to serve next to her king unless she is the strongest among us!” he shouted and the surrounding wolves chanted and howled their agreement.

“Just as I fought my way into this spot, my future queen must do the same!” He gestured to his brother, whom he’d nearly killed to become king, and again was met with excitement from the crowd. I watched his brother’s face, the clenched jaw and fisted hands, and knew he was not over the defeat. Why Axil let him live I would never know. It was rare that two brothers fought and one forfeited. It made me think Axil had a soft spot where his older brother was concerned.

And soft spots were weaknesses.

“This first fight will help us whittle down the numbers of our strongest warrior women. Although we do allow all fights to end in forfeit, it is frowned upon—” The crowd booed loudly and Axil chuckled.

Yeah, they allowed forfeit, but then your pack tore you to pieces for shaming them in such a way. I would rather perish than yield in the Queen Trials. The dishonor I would carry would kill me if I survived.

“You should be ready to die for your people, as I am,” Axil added when the crowd quieted.

“Thank you, my lord.” One of the advisors spoke loudly as he stood next to the king on the raised platform.

“Here are the rules!” the advisor bellowed. “Stay within the roped-off area. You must enter the fight in your human form but may shift. Use only the weapon assigned to you. The fight starts when the bell rings. That is all!”

The wolves around us wasted no time in chanting, “Fight, fight, fight!”

The lead advisor walked over to Eliza and then to the woman I assumed was Malin and beckoned them both into the ring.

They were starting with the weakest fights first.

I reached out and yanked Eliza’s wrist, forcing her to look at me. “Make it fast, element of surprise.”

She gulped and nodded. I hoped she took what I’d said to heart. I knew it was cruel; I didn’t relish exploiting someone’s weakness but if she wanted to survive, she would have to fight dirty.

Eliza wore a fancy city warrior’s get-up, full leather armor with padded arms and shoulder spaulders. It was something that would tangle up if she shifted into her wolf form. Eliza gripped her dagger tightly in her hand and I could already see from the way that she hefted the weapon that she was probably an expert swordswoman. All of the Death Mountain high society women were. But they wouldn’t last a day out in the outskirts, or in a real fight with few to no rules.

Eliza circled the other girl, who I saw now was holding the same dagger. Good, they were well matched.

“How is Alessia?” Eliza asked Malin and the woman’s eyes bugged wide at the mention of her ex-boyfriend’s lover. She was beautiful, honey-blonde hair, green eyes, and right now, wearing a feral snarl.

The bell dinged and Eliza lunged forward with more speed than I thought she’d have. With her left boot she reeled back and came crashing down on Malin’s right thigh bone. At the same time Eliza slashed at Malin’s face with her dagger.

The sound of crunching bone rang throughout the space and the crowd went insane. A small bit of pride welled in my chest for Eliza. She was a good student; she’d done everything I had said.

Malin fell to the ground wailing in pain and dropped the hold on her weapon. Eliza kicked it away quickly and I knew what would happen next. It’s what I would do.

Yes, our magic allowed us to regenerate wounds but we couldn’t make more blood if we lost it too quickly.

Eliza took Malin’s moment of weakness and slashed at her opponent’s throat until crimson lifeblood leaked down her tunic.

Malin reached up to staunch the wound but it was too late.

She keeled over and then the surrounding wolves began to chant Eliza’s name.

It was one of the fastest kills I’d ever seen.

I couldn’t help but grin. I barely knew this girl and yet I was proud of her; she had won her first fight on her home turf. It must feel good. She spun to me, wearing a matching smile and I tipped my head to her.

Then she turned to the king and gave him a smile with a wink and my pride for her died in my chest and slid into my stomach like a rock. Jealously flared to life inside of me but I pushed it away. I shouldn’t care, I hated Axil.

That emotion was a weakness that could be exploited and I needed to remember every woman here was competing for the king’s heart, and to be his beloved.

The next fight played out, and then the next and the next. It was going in order of strength and getting more brutal as time went by. I knew my brother and packmates were close by but it wasn’t until I was next to be called up that Cyrus appeared.

“Where is your weapon?” he asked, looking down at my empty hands.

“Long story.” I glared at Ivanna who had just entered the fighting ring.

He stood next to me as the bell rang and we watched her together. She was my strongest competition and now I saw why. Her fighting style was vicious and perfect. Every punch connected with a main organ or broke a bone. Every swipe of her sword tore at a ligament. She even partial-shifted one paw to swipe at her rival’s face which was really hard to do. Partial-shifting was like holding your breath for a really long time. It took skill.

By the time she killed number four in rank, she had gained my respect as a fighter and I knew that if she bested me, she would make a strong queen.

I was trying not to steal glances at King Axil but it was hard since every time I did, he was staring back at me. Was I just catching him staring every time or was he spending the entire time looking at me?

Surely not.

Right?

“Okay, we have the final match for today!” the advisor announced. “Our number one competitor, Zara Swiftwater of the Mud Flat pack, who has chosen not to take a weapon—”

The king growled then, loudly, and some people turned to look at him.

“Can she do that?” Axil asked, disrupting the advisor and scowling at me.

The advisor looked affronted at the interruption. “Of course she can, my lord.”

Charcoal black fur rippled down Axil’s neck and I frowned.

What the Hades did he care? I knew he and his brother would rather I died quickly so they didn’t need to worry about my polluting their bloodline with mud. As Ansel had so aptly said five years ago when he was king.

“And our number three competitor, Arin Moonlight of Wash Basin pack, fighting with the long sword!”

Cheers and clapping rang out through the space and I grinned as I stepped into the ring.

Arin was the same woman who had told me I stank last night and I’d knocked her out.

“Did you have a nice floor nap last night?” I asked her.

She snarled, baring all her teeth and holding her sword aloft.

I could feel Axil’s gaze on me but forced myself to push him from my mind.

The bell rang and instead of exploding forward like I usually would, to catch her off guard, I ran backwards all the way to the edge of the rope.

She frowned, as if confused by my behavior.

I had no weapon, she had a three-foot sword. I wasn’t stupid. Rushing her would get me stabbed and although I would eventually heal, it would take time. I had no idea if the next fight was in an hour, or tomorrow morning, so keeping my guts in my stomach was top priority.

I kept my hands behind my back and had decided that since Ivanna had showed off with her partial shift, I would as well.

In the time that I had run backwards and confused her, causing her to advance towards me, I’d already shifted both of my hands into giant, razor-sharp paws. It took incredible skill to hold onto a shift like this and I would be partially distracted in order to keep the rest of my body from taking my wolf form as well. To do a full shift would put me in a vulnerable space and she would probably cut my head off before I was on all fours.

“Come on, you coward!” Arin came down and across with her sword, going right for my neck. When the blade was a few inches from my body, I swiped out with a paw and crashed into the side of the sword. The force of the blow was far greater than my human form could muster and too much for her grip. The weapon clattered to the ground and she let loose with a battle cry as she lunged for me. Both of her hands wrapped around my throat as she tried to yank me to the ground in a fit of anger.

She was too emotional, all anger and no calculated skill. Reaching out with my paw, I swiped at the side of her face, taking a strip of flesh with it. Her fingers released from my neck as her wail of pain tore through the space and she stumbled backwards. Shifting my paws back to hands, I reached down and picked up her fallen sword.

By the time she realized what I’d done, I’d already slammed the sharp end into her heart.

The crowd roared their approval and as I looked at her dead body, I thought I would feel pride … but I didn’t. Instead, I felt slightly ashamed. I knew it was our custom and fighting for pack dominance had always been the way, but to shame women for forfeiting to keep their life was a mistake. Arin didn’t have to be lying dead at the end of my blade, she could have taken a knee if she had known there was no shame in that, and that her pack would let her live. I looked into the blank stare of Arin’s dead eyes and I realized I was fighting for a man I didn’t even want anymore, and a crown I wasn’t sure I was worthy to wear.

It felt wrong.

My brother leapt into the ring and lifted me into the air in praise, snapping me from my stupor and I looked over at the king.

Gone was his earlier anger, instead Axil was staring at me with compassion. Like he’d seen something on my face that told him I wasn’t feeling so great about things right now.

“Put me down,” I growled to my big brother. Cyrus stiffened beneath me and dropped me as the crowd went wild.

I turned from him suddenly and ran out of the ring, pushing past the crowds of people until they thinned and then I was walking among the hundreds of tents.

Why was I here? Why the Hades did I sign up for this? Was it to see Axil again and prove to him I was everything he needed and that he never should have left me all those years ago? Or was it really to bring pride to my pack? Was I killing other women just to get my revenge on Axil Moon?

Feeling confused, I just kept walking, wanting to blow off some of the adrenaline from the fight. My walk turned into a jog and before I knew it, I was full-on sprinting. I loved to run. Human, or wolf form, it didn’t matter. The wind was in my hair, my muscles crying for release and my breath heaving. I needed this. I blasted past the melee of the crowds and when I hit the castle, I turned right and went around it to see what was behind. I was rewarded with a thick forest that stretched out for a couple hundred feet before going off a sharp cliff down the mountain.

My legs burned in the good way only a heavy workout could bring as I hit the treeline and kept going. Dodging trees and heavy brush, I ran right up to the edge of the mountain and stopped.

My chest heaved as I peered over the cliff below and then I heard a twig snap behind me.

I spun, throwing my arms up as I readied myself for a sneak attack from Ivanna. Take out the competition before you even had to fight them. It’s what I would do.

But when I saw Axil stalking towards me, my arms dropped and my mouth popped open a little in surprise.

“I wasn’t fleeing. I just needed some time alone,” I told him in case he thought I might be running from my obligation. Because that’s what this was, an obligation. If Dorian hadn’t sent me, we’d have had to choose a replacement. Each pack sent one female no matter how weak they were. Like Eliza. The sweet girl who was so unprepared that she was asking fellow contestants for advice on how to keep her life. It made me sick.

He didn’t stop walking, and I swallowed hard when he got within two feet of me before slowing.

I held my breath as he stepped right up to me, toe to toe and stared me down. His nostrils flared and I had to suppress a moan. He smelled like dominance and bad choices, like fifteen-year-old Axil. The memory of kissing him was burned on my tongue and I suddenly wondered if he tasted the same.

“You didn’t take a weapon? I remember you being smarter than that, Zara,” he growled and that anger was back in his gaze.

I placed one hand on my hip. “I’m surprised you remember me at all with how easily you left me,” I snapped back, though I wasn’t sure it was true. One of the things he’d said to me was that he would never forget a single freckle on my skin. He’d traced them nightly under the stars all summer.

“I …” His face fell. “Zara, leaving you—”

“I don’t want to talk about that. The past is the past.” I pursed my lips.

He looked down at his hands for a second and then back up at me. “Look … Zara, I’ve been thinking, you could break your leg. Say it happened hiking and I would excuse you from tomorrow’s trial. Dorian could send a replacement.”

My glare narrowed as rage built up inside of me. “Are you that afraid of me winning and being stuck with me the rest of your life?” My head tipped back as genuine laughter erupted from my throat.

When I looked back at him, his anger was completely gone and his eyes were on my lips.

“Damn, I forgot how sexy your laugh was.”

His words knocked the air from my lungs and I froze as he leaned forward and against my neck, inhaling deeply.

“But I remembered how good you smelled.” His voice was ten octaves deeper.

My mind was scrambling to figure out what was going on when his fingers came up to brush across my lips. The whimper I’d been holding in released then and he pulled back to look at me.

“And for as long as I live, I will never forget how you kiss, Zara Swiftwater,” he stated and my legs nearly collapsed beneath me. “And I dream of being stuck with you forever, I don’t fear it.”

There were no words for this moment. I didn’t have anything to say so I just stared at him. Why was he muttering all of these incredibly romantic things to me? He left me at the summer camp after his brother reminded him of his duties to the throne. I was Mud Flats trash, not good enough for him.

The memory of how that all went down rose up inside of me and I took one step closer to him so that my body was pressed flush against his. My breasts slammed into his chest and his eyes widened slightly.

“Axil Moon, I pray that you remember how I kiss, for the rest of your life.” I leaned in and dragged my lips lightly across his, delighted to hear the moan of pleasure escape him. Then I pulled back and met his gaze. “Because you will never taste this mouth again. I will win the trials, become your wife, and leave you to an empty bed until my dying day.”

With a snarl of anger, I pulled away and sidestepped him, walking quickly back through the woods the way I came.

I thought I heard the sound of snapping bones and when I reached the open grassy knoll behind the castle, a tortured howl rose up across the forest behind me.

Whatever he was feeling now was an ounce of what my fifteen-year-old self had felt when he rejected me.

Now, more than ever, I was motivated to win this competition. If nothing more than to see the look on Axil’s face when I slammed the bedroom door shut on him on our wedding night. I didn’t care who I would have to kill to get my revenge. This was our way, and I’d been stupid to question such traditions.

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