Haelyn's POV

The first thing he did, which I had already seen coming, was to laugh at me. Well, there were others who agreed with the humor and laughed along as well.

I seemed to be the only one who didn't find my situation funny. The pairing had spared the elite warriors and given me someone who was twice my size.

Beautiful. I was going to die early.

Weston pointed one finger at me, and said, "You just picked the wrong place to die, young man."

I memorized everything I had learned from watching the warriors fight. A man like Weston would obviously underestimate someone like me, thinking that I wouldn't be much of a threat. Which I actually agreed with him. But I could use that to my advantage and, maybe get lucky.

"Shut up and fight, Weston," I said.

He lost the smile upon his face and growled at me. "I am going to break your puny bones into pieces," he threatened.

I waited for Weston to charge at me as he took on a stance. But he just waited. We both waited.

Then he came right at me. He was a heavy warrior, so that made his jabs slower than an average fighter's. I easily moved my face away from the end of his fists, then clocked and him in the throat.

He gulped, but his hands were slow in going up. So I clocked him again, and this time he held his throat with both hands, giving me free access to his body.

I made a sweeping kick with my right foot, and it connected well against his temple. Weston stumbled and went on both knees.

The crowd gasped in surprise. Surely they weren't even expecting an attempt from me.

It wasn't much but it was something. I hadn't knocked him out cold as the rule of the ring demanded, but I had just delivered a nice blow.

Maybe Weston wasn't that formidable as I thought.

He got to his feet and coughed. Blood splattered on the sand beside his left foot and I noticed the look in his eyes go dark. I knew then, that I wasn't going to get lucky anymore.

"Come on!" he yelled at me, and gestured with both hands. "Think you can beat me? Come on then!"

The crowd began to cheer. For whom, I had no idea.

I made my first big mistake. I listened to Weston and went at him. I moved as fast as I could, and threw the punches again, aiming for his face.

He did the same thing I did, only better. Weston took a step back, and since I was smaller, my hands couldn't touch him. However, his right foot was much closer and that found my bandaged wound.

I screamed at the kick and Weston used his hands lift me up and dump me on the ground. I gasped at the pain. It was as if my shoulders had shifted.

He kicked me a couple of times while I was down until I felt blood in my mouth and my eyes going dim.

"Knock him out! Knock him out! Knock him out!" I heard them shout, but only barely.

I knew what was coming and I needed to get on my feet but Weston had chosen to kick me right where my wound was. How lovely of him.

I managed to get on my knees and look up. The crowd was going mad. They all wanted blood. The first one that day. They all wanted to see me get knocked out cold.

They were warriors and such behavior was understandable.

I was surprised that Weston was still waiting for me to get back on my feet. He was somewhere behind me, probably enjoying my pain, helplessness, and weakness, all rolled into one.

Soon I felt his hand grab my hair, and lift me to my feet. It hurt, a lot. And that was the first time anyone had grabbed my hair in that manner.

Weston was yelling at the crowd and hitting his chest with his free hand.

The yelled back.

"Break his bones!"

"Rip him apart!"

"Make him cry!"

Mercy was far from the maddening crowd.

Weston held me close and whispered into my face, "I'm sure your mom is going to hear you cry when I break you."

For him to mention my mother that way was a complete abomination. He should not have done that. He should not have even mentioned her or brought her into the fight.

But he did. I felt my wolf rise within me, for the second time in my life. My fingers found his face and my thumbs found their way into his eyes. It was his turn to scream as I dug them in.

Weston threw me off him. I fell and got to my feet immediately, forgetting that I was even injured. Weston was still trying to get his bearing and didn't see me charging at him.

I folded a fist and found his throat again. This time, I went with all I had. Weston gagged and I just kept hitting him, without stopping. Not even when his mouth filled with blood and I felt his Adam's Apple give way.

Finally, I turned, and finished him with a sweeping kick.

Pin drop silence.

I looked at them all. Made eye contact with the young man who was dressed like me. There was this glint in his eyes. It felt like he was curious about me. And so did Roan, who stood beside him.

I looked up at the leader. I raised his hand, and declared, "Bernard wins the round!"

The elites of Silver Pack weren't satisfied with my fight. They scoffed and made snide remarks. Well, no one supported me from the get-go. So I was pretty sure it would continue that way, no matter how many people I put down in front of their eyes.

I hadn't killed Weston. That violence wasn't enough to put him in the grave. He'd be out for some time, but he'd be back nonetheless.

I covered my bleeding wound and limped out of the combat ring. I made my first kill that day, the son of an Alpha. It wasn't even knockout. Just death.

I had revealed something about myself, and I hoped no one noticed.

"This is only the beginning," I said.