25. Caleb
25
CALEB
T he sun cast long shadows across the pack arena as Caleb walked hand-in-hand with Fiona through the gathering crowd. Members of both packs filled the stone bleachers surrounding the dirt fighting ring, their voices a low murmur of anticipation.
"Say it again," Fiona demanded, squeezing his hand. Her green eyes blazed with determination, but Caleb caught the slight tremor in her voice.
"I promised you I wouldn't lose, and I won't." He pulled her closer, breathing in her scent. "Victor may think he's destined for greatness, but I've got something worth fighting for."
"Just remember that fire witch who'll kick your ass if you break that promise." A smile tugged at her lips despite the worry lines creasing her forehead.
"Wouldn't dream of it. Your temper's scarier than Victor could ever be." Caleb brushed a strand of red hair from her face, his touch lingering on her cheek.
Across the arena, Victor stood with his pack, chest puffed out like a peacock trying to impress his followers. The sight made Caleb roll his eyes.
"Look at him preening over there," Caleb muttered. "You'd think he was accepting an award instead of getting ready for a fight."
"Well, his ego is big enough to need its own zip code." Fiona's quip drew a genuine laugh from him.
Caleb turned to face her fully, taking both her hands in his. The afternoon breeze carried the scent of autumn leaves and grass. "When this is over, I'm taking you on a proper date. No pack business, no rival alphas, just us."
"Promise?" Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.
"Cross my heart." He leaned down and kissed her softly, pouring all his feelings into the gesture. Around them, a few wolf whistles and good-natured cheers rose from the Eclipsed Moon pack members.
"Go kick his arrogant ass," Fiona whispered against his lips.
"Yes ma'am." Caleb grinned and stepped back, already feeling the familiar pull of his wolf form beneath his skin. The thought of Fiona waiting for him, of their future together, filled him with renewed purpose.
Caleb stepped into the arena, the dirt shifting beneath his boots. The afternoon sun beat down as Victor strutted to the center, his swagger reminiscent of a rooster in a henhouse.
"Last chance to bow out gracefully," Victor called, rolling his shoulders. "I promise to only slightly humiliate you when you submit."
Caleb snorted. "Funny, I was about to offer you the same deal. Though I can't promise anything about your ego – that thing's too fragile not to shatter."
The taunting drew mixed reactions from the crowd – cheers from his pack, jeers from Victor's. Caleb caught Fiona's scent on the breeze, steadying him.
"Your witch won't be able to save you here," Victor sneered, beginning to circle. "What kind of alpha needs a female to fight his battles?"
"The kind smart enough to know good allies when he sees them." Caleb matched his movements, studying Victor's gait for tells. "But I wouldn't expect you to understand that, considering your idea of leadership is beating people into submission."
Victor's eyes flashed gold, his control slipping. "Enough talk."
The shift rippled through them both, bones cracking and reforming as fur burst through skin. Where two men had stood, two massive wolves now faced each other – Victor's gray coat bristling, Caleb's midnight black fur gleaming in the sun.
They launched at each other simultaneously, teeth snapping. Caleb ducked under Victor's lunge, scoring first blood with a slash across the gray wolf's flank. Victor whirled, faster than expected, and caught Caleb's shoulder with his fangs.
Pain lanced through him, but Caleb used the momentum to roll and break free. They circled again, looking for openings. Victor was good – maybe even as good as the rumors claimed. But Caleb had something Victor didn't: something worth protecting beyond his own pride.
They clashed again and again, neither gaining the upper hand. Blood matted both their coats, turning the arena dirt dark. Victor fought with practiced precision, but Caleb matched him move for move. For every bite Victor landed, Caleb returned one of his own.
Through the haze of battle, Caleb heard Fiona's voice rise above the crowd: "Show him what a real alpha looks like!"
The words sparked something in his chest. Victor might have strength and skill, but he'd never understand what true leadership meant. What having people worth fighting for could do.
Victor's teeth sank into Caleb's haunches, sending white-hot pain shooting through his body. The gray wolf used his greater weight to pin Caleb down, jaws seeking his throat. Blood matted Caleb's black fur, his muscles screaming in protest as he fought to keep Victor's fangs from his jugular.
Through the sea of faces surrounding the arena, Caleb caught Fiona's green eyes. Fear painted her features, but beneath it burned that familiar determined fire he'd come to love. She mouthed something that looked suspiciously like "kick his ass or else."
A surge of strength flooded through him. This wasn't just about him anymore – it was about the fierce witch who'd walked into his life. About the future they could have together.
With renewed vigor, Caleb twisted sharply, breaking Victor's hold. Before the gray wolf could recover, Caleb's jaws clamped down on Victor's shoulder and threw him off balance. Victor stumbled, giving Caleb the opening he needed. He slammed his full weight into Victor's exposed side, driving him into the dirt.
Victor's head cracked against the ground with a sickening thud. The gray wolf went limp, unconscious but breathing.
"Finish him!" Several voices from the Eclipsed Moon pack rang out. "End it!"
Caleb stood over Victor's prone form, chest heaving. It would be easy – one quick bite and he'd never have to worry about Victor threatening his pack again. His gaze swept over the Nightfang members, landing on Rachelle's snarling face. The hatred in her eyes spoke volumes.
If he killed Victor, he'd win the battle but start a war. The Nightfang would never truly accept him as alpha, would always be looking for ways to avenge their fallen leader. More blood would be spilled, more lives lost.
Was that really the kind of leader he wanted to be? The kind who ruled through fear and death rather than respect?
Fiona's words from their first argument echoed in his mind: "Respect usually carries more weight than strength."
Caleb shifted back to his human form, muscles aching from the fight. His clothes, thankfully still intact thanks to the arena's enchantments, clung to his sweat-soaked skin. He turned to face the Nightfang members, particularly Rachelle, whose face twisted with barely contained rage.
"Take your alpha and go," he announced, his voice carrying across the now-silent arena. "Your pack remains yours, Victor remains your leader." He paused, letting his next words sink in. "But if any of you come near my people again – if you so much as look at an Eclipsed Moon member wrong – I won't be so merciful next time."
Rachelle's lip curled into a snarl. "You're weak, showing mercy like this."
"No," Caleb countered, fighting back a smile as he caught Fiona's proud gaze in the crowd. "I'm smart enough to know the difference between strength and stupidity. Something your alpha clearly missed in his leadership lessons."
A few chuckles rippled through the crowd, mostly from his own pack. Even a couple of Nightfang members poorly disguised their amusement.
"Now," Caleb continued, gesturing to Victor's still-unconscious form, "I suggest you get him some medical attention. Though with the size of his ego, I'm sure his head's well-cushioned."
Rachelle glared daggers at him but moved to help her fallen alpha. As the Nightfang members carried Victor away, Caleb caught snippets of their muttered conversations – not all of them complementary toward their supposedly destined leader.
"That was quite the show," Fiona's voice came from behind him. "Though I have to say, the victory speech needed work. 'I won't be so merciful' – really? Could you be more cliché?"
Caleb turned to face her, wincing slightly at his injuries. "Sorry, next time I win a life-or-death battle, I'll consult you first about my victory speech."
"See that you do." She reached up to touch a cut on his cheek, her fingers gentle despite her teasing tone. "I am available for consulting services. My rates are very reasonable."
"How about I pay you with dinner instead?" He caught her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her palm.
"Throw in dessert and you've got yourself a deal."
Caleb's muscles ached as he walked out of the arena, but Fiona's small hand in his made every twinge worth it. His pack members lined the path, their cheers washing over him like a healing balm. Even his enhanced hearing couldn't pick out individual voices from all of the whoops and howls.
"Your people are certainly enthusiastic," Fiona said, ducking under someone's attempt to toss flower petals over them. "Though I could do without the impromptu confetti."
"They're your people too now," Caleb replied, tugging her closer to shield her from another shower of petals. The scent of her mixed pleasantly with the autumn air. "Though I'm starting to think they planned this celebration ahead of time. Where did all these flowers even come from?"
"Probably the same place as that 'Caleb & Fiona Forever' banner Wade's trying to hide behind his back." She nodded toward his second-in-command, who was indeed attempting to conceal a large piece of fabric. Caleb groaned.
They rounded the corner of the arena building, finally escaping the enthusiastic crowd. The late afternoon sun painted everything in soft gold, including Fiona's red hair. Before Caleb could comment on how beautiful she looked, she grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him down for a kiss.
Her lips were soft against his. Caleb wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer despite his injuries protesting the movement.
When they finally broke apart, Fiona's green eyes sparkled with mischief. "That's for not dying on me."
"If that's my reward for staying alive, I'll have to do it more often."