CHAPTER FIVE

LENA’S POV

The training yard was a circle of steel chairs surrounded by high spires and ancient gold banners that flapped in the breeze.

I stood at the center, seeing that I was surrounded by unfamiliar faces, their eyes glued directly at me. Some with skepticism and others with curiosity.

“They want to see for themselves if the rumors are true. You don’t have to win, but you’re going to have to survive what’s coming,” Tessa’s voice from earlier echoed in my head as I stepped into the ring carved in dust and stone. My stomach twisted.

I had scoffed then. Not because I didn’t believe her, but because all of what’s happening felt too unreal to be true.

The Silverclaw Lycans didn’t bow to names. They bowed to strength, to dominate and I had to show them I had both.

The low murmurs from the crowd dulled to a hush when Jasper, Nolan, and Rowan stepped into the arena and nodded at me.

I forced myself to breathe, swallowing the knot in my throat with my heart slamming hard against my ribs, but my feet firm on the earth. I stared down at the birthmark on my wrist, the same spiral crest carved into the ancient stone of the palace walls.

Still a bit confused on why they’d pointed to the necklace I always thought was just an heirloom. Told me it had been masking my true form since birth, suppressing my shift, my scent, my power. But with the death of my mother, it stands a chance of failing.

For five centuries like I’d been told, the Matriarchal Silverclaw throne had been ruled by a queen—-always a queen. And beside her stood three consorts, not as lovers, but as balance: The warrior, the diplomat, and the seer.

My mother had been the last. And now here I was, surrounded by men ready to rip into me if I showed a moment of weakness.

I glanced around the yard, realizing that my opponent was already waiting. Tall, muscled, a smirk tugged at his lips like he could tell that he’d won at the sight of me.

I clenched my fist staring back at him, with my fingers twitching at my sides. The faintest shimmer of claws trying to push through as the necklace around my neck pulsed. A warning.

A horn from above us blew, and in that second I realized the fight was about to begin. But I knew nothing about throws and kicks, even worse given the fact that I’d never been in a fist fight with anyone all my life. Other than the stranger whom I’d surprisingly killed in my apartment.

My opponent took a step toward me with a smile and said. “Don’t worry princess, I’ll make it quick.”

Instantly, my stomach twisted.

First, a long silence lingered and just as expected he lunged at me. Sloppy and overconfident. In fear, I ducked under his swing but barely dodged the second strike, stumbling backwards as his fist grazed my cheeks. Pain bloomed instantly, but it was distant, for some reason drowned beneath the roar of adrenaline.

The warrior didn’t hesitate, he lunged forward with inhumane and for some reason my body barely reacted in time.

His fist cut through the space where my head had just been. I twisted, dropped low, and tried to grab him by the legs but unfortunately, it felt like moving a mountain.

Instantly, he caught my wrist. Lifted me clean off the ground and slammed me into the dirt with bone-rattling force. In seconds, pain exploded through my spine causing me to wince.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by mocking laughter. I stayed still for a split second, with my hands wrapped around my wounded side staring at it.

A bit victorious, the warrior had his back against me smiling to the crowd as they cheered him on. And in that moment, I pivoted. Instincts are kicking in faster than my fearful thoughts. When he swung again, I ducked under his swing, twisted, and drove my elbow into his ribs.

The satisfying crunch drew gasps from the crowd. He stumbled back, eyes wide with surprise. And then, he grinned at me, sharp and mocking. “Soft,” he growled.

Almost immediately, something inside me snapped.

No. I wasn’t soft. I wasn’t weak either. I was the last heir of a bloodline powerful enough to make rival wolves tremble.

I didn’t even know who I truly was yet, but one thing was certain, that I wasn’t meant to fail here. Not when everyone was watching.

He came at me harder this time, faster. But my body moved on instinct. To my greatest shock, my claws tore free, glimmering silver and without any hesitation I slashed across his chest, knocking him backward. Blood splattered across the ring.

The necklace around my neck pulsed again, as if warning me I was close—too close to unleashing what was meant to stay hidden.

He staggered backward, arms flailing like he couldn’t remember how his body worked. Just then, his knee buckled and he hit the ground with a sickening thud. Unconscious or close enough. The crowd didn’t cheer like they were supposed to, instead, they all looked stunned. Afraid even.

I looked down to find the warrior, cold on the hard floor whimpering like a lost wounded wolf. I edged close, staring at my claws stained with blood. The warrior at my feet was known to be the strongest and a seasoned fighter, three times my size and I’d taken him down in less than a couple of minutes, with nothing but raw instincts.

But behind me, I heard the voices of men headed in my direction as the crowd surprisingly cheered on.

Turning swiftly, I soon realized they’d sent in more men. Heavily built, armed, and even worse I was outnumbered. My eyes trailed off to the crowd in search of Nolan, wondering what on earth was happening.

‘They tricked me!’ I scoffed, watching them charge at me.