Champion
Aurora POV
The violent, righteous fury wiped from Thorne's weathered face so fast it was almost comical, replaced instantly by blank, uncomprehending shock.
He blinked, his mouth dropping open, but no sound came out.
The surrounding representatives of Valdora stared at me with wide eyes, completely blindsided by the escalation.
Thorne looked like I had just spoken to him in an entirely dead language, which... Technically I could have.
“A... a what?” he finally stammered, his knuckles turning white where they gripped the edge of the table.
“A duel, Elder,” I clarified, speaking slowly, as if addressing a confused pup.
I rested my fingertips lightly on the table.
“It is the oldest and most sacred law of our kind, is it not? Truth found in blood and bone. You have made it abundantly clear that anything I say does not matter. That you believe you are vastly superior to me. You believe I am a fraud, entirely beneath you, and unworthy of this court. So,
I am giving you the opportunity to prove it.”
“Just you and me, Elder Thorne,” I said, my tone velvet over steel.
“And because the sacred law of our kind dictates that holding back in a duel is the highest form of disrespect, I promise I will not insult an elder of your standing. You will face my absolute, unfiltered strength. My wolf, my skills, and my magic. If I am truly the imposter you claim I am,
it should take a seasoned wolf such as yourself mere seconds to put me in my place.”
My smile sharpened, finally letting a fraction of my feral, eight-year survival instinct bleed into my eyes.
“Unless, of course, you are afraid of a so-called rogue?”
The blood drained from Elder Thorne’s face so completely I actually worried for a fleeting second that his heart might give out.
The sharp, metallic scent of genuine, visceral terror flooded the air around him.
Beside me, a low, incredibly dark chuckle vibrated in Kieran’s chest.
It was a rich, predatory sound that rolled through the heavy silence of the chamber, sending a shiver of absolute thrill down my spine.
My mate leaned back into his carved wooden seat, resting his chin on his knuckles, his golden eyes gleaming with wicked, unapologetic amusement as he watched the Elder squirm.
“I... you...” Thorne stammered, his hands trembling violently where they remained braced against the obsidian table.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“I am an Elder of the council! I do not engage in petty brawls like a common foot soldier. My days of physical combat are... they are behind me. I relinquished my Alpha title to my son ten years ago for that exact reason!”
He looked frantically around the table, desperate for someone to validate his cowardice. “To challenge a man of my advanced age to a duel is... it is barbaric!”
“You were quick enough to demand proof of her lineage, Thorne,” Garrick grinned. “Are you truly going to cower behind your age the moment she offers it to you?”
Thorne opened his mouth, but before he could string together another pathetic excuse, a deep, booming laugh erupted from halfway down the table.
Then another joined in. And another.
Within seconds, a chorus of rough laughter echoed off the vaulted stone ceiling.
These men were mainly Pack Alphas. Warriors who valued strength, honor, and raw power above all else.
They could smell Thorne’s fear, and to them, there was nothing more pathetic than a wolf who barked loudly but tucked his tail the second teeth were bared.
The last shreds of Thorne’s political dignity were being actively shredded by the mocking chuckles of his peers.
I highly doubt he will be back in this room again after today.
“Oh, sit down and shut up, Thorne, before you embarrass the entire eastern territory,” a gravelly voice interrupted.
I shifted my gaze to see Alpha Torrance of the Bloodmoon Pack pushing himself up from his chair.
He didn’t even look at the trembling Elder.
Instead, he turned his dark, calculating eyes directly to me.
There was no malice in his gaze, no bitter rejection like Thorne’s.
Instead his eyes were burning with curiosity.
“Dear Luna,” Torrance rumbled, offering me a respectful nod.
“The old rag is right about one thing: he’d break his hip before he even managed to summon his claws. It wouldn’t be a duel; it would be an execution. And frankly, we wouldn’t learn a damn thing about your strength from watching you snap a brittle twig.”
Torrance grinned, a slow expression that pulled at the thick scar crossing his jaw. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his heavy tunic, his eyes alight with the pure, unadulterated thrill of a warrior sensing a worthy opponent.
“However,” Torrance continued, rolling his massive shoulders.
“I haven’t had a decent spar since the border skirmishes last winter. If you’re truly offering to demonstrate the might of the Argent bloodline, and if my King allows it...”
He shot a quick, deferential glance at Kieran before looking back to me.
“I would consider it a massive honor to step in as Thorne’s champion. Not to disrespect you, my Luna, but because I’d very much like to see what a legendary White Wolf can do.”
----
Kieran POV
I stared at the massive Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack, considering the threat.
Torrance wasn’t another loudmouth lord; he was a walking weapon.
A powerful warrior. Along with Garrick and Kaelen, Torrance represented the absolute pinnacle of Valdoran military might.
The three of them were all in their forties, in the absolute prime of their power, and had spent their entire adult lives drenched in the blood of border skirmishes and territorial disputes that followed the war.
I had absolutely no doubt that my mate was lethal.
I had felt the sheer, crushing weight of her aura and knew exactly what she had survived in the Forbidden Lands.
But for the last eight years, Aurora had survived by hunting beasts and monsters.
Monsters were terrifying, yes, but they were also predictable.
They relied on instinct, raw aggression, and brute force.
Torrance, on the other hand, was a highly tactical, combat-proficient Pack Alpha. He knew how to exploit weaknesses, feint, grapple, and use an opponent’s momentum against them. It was an entirely different kind of warfare.
I shifted my gaze to Aurora, letting my presence wrap around her gently.
“Are you sure about this?” I murmured, keeping my voice low enough that only she could hear the protective edge bleeding into my tone. “Torrance is not a mindless beast. He is one of the most powerful warriors in this kingdom.”
Aurora didn’t even blink. She kept her eyes on the scarred Alpha, but her hand slid to my forearm, her slender fingers brushing reassuringly against my skin.
“I’m sure, Kieran. This is the best way to gain their respect.”
She said, her voice dropping to a lethal purr.
“Besides… my wolf is starved for a real fight.”
I pushed past her physical composure, sinking deeply into our mate bond to search for the truth beneath her words. I looked for the frantic flutter of a racing heart, the sour, acidic spike of anxiety, or the cold dread of a bluff taken too far.
There was nothing. Not a single drop of fear.
Her side of the bond was a vast, terrifyingly calm ocean of absolute certainty.
What caught me entirely off guard was the bright, predatory thrill of her wolf pulsing just beneath the surface.
I blinked, a jolt of genuine surprise rippling through me.
She wasn’t just willing to endure this fight; she was actually looking forward to it.
The shock quickly melted away, and a slow, profoundly proud smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth.
I couldn’t deny her this. She needed to prove her dominance to the traditionalists on this council, and Torrance had just handed her the perfect, blood-soaked anvil to forge her crown upon.
I sat forward, releasing my Alpha aura to roll over the room in a heavy, suffocating wave, demanding instant silence.
“The crown accepts your substitution, Alpha Torrance,” I rumbled, my voice echoing with finality off the vaulted ceiling. “My Luna wishes to grant you the honor of a spar.”
Torrance’s grin widened, his chest expanding as he placed a fist over his heart and bowed deeply. “Thank you, my King.”
“However,” I continued, my tone dropping into a lethal, absolute command that left zero room for interpretation.
“This will be a demonstration of strength, not an execution. This is not a duel to the death. The match will end upon clear submission or incapacitation. I will have no casualties in my home today.”
I turned my gaze away from Torrance and deliberately shifted my focus to my mate. The hum of our bond practically vibrated in the space between us, thick with anticipation.
“Try to show a little restraint, my love,” I spoke . Though I kept my tone casual, the commanding rumble carried effortlessly across the silence of the council room. “Torrance is one of my strongest Pack Alphas. I’d rather not have to replace him today, so please try not to break him beyond repair.”
The collective, sharp inhale in the room was deafening.
A few of the younger Betas actually choked on strangled, nervous laughs, hurriedly clapping hands over their mouths as the weight of my words settled over the assembly.
I wasn’t subtly warning Torrance to hold back and spare my mate.
I was asking my mate to show mercy to him.
Aurora didn’t flinch. Instead, she tilted her head, a sweet, blindingly innocent smile curving her lips. Her eyes danced with a bright, dangerous amusement as she looked at me.
“Oh, don’t worry so much, Kieran,” she replied, her tone as breezy and conversational as if we were discussing the evening dinner menu rather than a duel.
She casually brushed a stray lock of snow-white hair from her shoulder.
“You know perfectly well that even if I accidentally snap a few of his ribs or shatter a femur, I can always just use my magic to heal him right back up afterward. I promise to put him back together exactly the way I found him.”
For a split second, the shocked silence among the traditionalists stretched so taut it threatened to snap entirely.
Then, Torrance’s massive chest began to heave.
He let out a booming, chest-rattling roar of genuine, thunderous laughter that echoed heavily off the vaulted stone ceiling.
Far from being insulted by the sheer, unmitigated audacity of a wolf half his size threatening to casually dismantle him, the battle-hardened Alpha looked utterly delighted by her arrogance.
He slapped a massive, calloused hand against his thigh, his eyes gleaming with a sudden, fierce spark of profound respect.
“A generous offer, my Luna!” Torrance bellowed, grinning a wide, predatory grin that bared his teeth.
He turned his attention back to me, bowing his head just a fraction.
“Understood, Your Majesty. Let us test that confidence of your mate. First to yield.”