Chapter 14 Part 2 Win

CHAPTER 14 – PART 2

SERENA POV

“Enough.”

Jayden’s voice cut cleanly through the training grounds.

“Everyone, come forward,” he commanded. “We will watch. And we will judge today’s match.”

The murmurs grew instantly.

Warriors shifted positions, forming a wide circle. Some leaned forward with interest. Others crossed their arms, skeptical. A few wore expressions I recognized too well, anticipation mixed with doubt. Jayden turned his gaze toward me.

“Serena,” he said coolly, “you’ve had enough time. Ten minutes is up. It’s time to fight.”

My pulse steadied instead of racing. I stepped forward. Zora already stood in the center of a platform ring in the field for fighting, rolling her shoulders, loosening her neck like someone preparing for a real fight, not a demonstration. 

Her expression wasn’t hostile. It was focused. Professional.

This wasn’t personal for her. That made it harder. Weapons were not allowed. This would be skill against skill. Control against control.

“Rules,” Jayden said. “No killing blows. Yield or unconsciousness ends the match.”

His eyes lingered on me for a fraction of a second longer than necessary. Zora inclined her head slightly in acknowledgment, then looked at me.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

Jayden raised his hand.

“Begin.”

Zora moved first. Fast. Calculated. A direct strike aimed to test my reflexes rather than injure. I blocked, pivoted, countered with a low sweep that she jumped cleanly over.

The crowd reacted immediately.

“She’s quicker than I thought.” 

“Zora’s not holding back.” “Watch her footing.”

Zora pressed harder, driving me back step by step. Her strikes were clean, disciplined, precise, no wasted movement. She fought like a leader trained to end conflicts efficiently.

I absorbed it, adjusted, adapted. Pain flared as her elbow caught my ribs. I stumbled, barely regaining balance before her knee drove toward my midsection. I blocked too late.

Air burst from my lungs as I hit the dirt.

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

“That’s it.” 

“She’s down.”

 “Get up.”

I forced myself up immediately, ignoring the burning in my side.

Artemis surged, not with rage, but clarity.

She’s testing your endurance. Don’t match her strength. Outlast her. Zora circled me now, breathing evenly. 

“You’re tough,” she said quietly. “But toughness alone won’t win this.”

“I know,” I answered.

She lunged again, faster this time. I ducked under her strike, using her momentum against her, twisting and throwing her off balance. She landed hard but rolled smoothly to her feet. This time, the crowd reacted differently.

“She turned that.”

 “Did you see that?” 

“That was calculated.”

Zora smiled faintly. Good. She understood what I was doing now. The match intensified. She forced me into close combat, trying to overwhelm me with pressure. 

I let her think she was succeeding. Let my movements slow just enough to lure her in.

When she overcommitted, I struck, not with power, but precision.

My palm hit her shoulder joint. My knee caught her thigh. Not crippling. Disruptive. Zora hissed as she stumbled back. Blood trickled from my lip where she’d caught me earlier. My vision blurred slightly. My body screamed for rest.

But I stayed upright.

“She’s bleeding.” 

“And still standing.”

 “She hasn’t yielded.”

Zora wiped sweat from her brow, breathing harder now. 

“You’re not fighting like an Alpha,” she said.

“No,” I replied, steady despite the ache in my chest. “I’m fighting like someone who has endured.” I don't want to use my Alpha strength on her.

Her gaze sharpened. She attacked again, harder, relentless. I barely blocked one strike, pain exploding through my forearm. My knee buckled.

For a moment, the ground rushed up to meet me. I caught myself just in time. The crowd went silent.

Zora raised her arm for the final strike. I moved. Not forward. Sideways.

I dropped low, hooked her ankle, and used her forward momentum to twist. She hit the ground hard, breath knocked from her lungs.

Before she could recover, I pinned her, not with force, but leverage. My forearm pressed against her collarbone, my weight balanced carefully.

She struggled once.

Then stopped.

The silence stretched.

Zora met my eyes.

I didn’t press harder. Didn’t taunt. Didn’t speak. Finally, she exhaled.

“I yield,” she said clearly.

For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then the training grounds erupted.

“She won.” 

“She actually won.” 

“Zora yielded.”

I released her immediately and stepped back, offering my hand. Zora took it.

She rose slowly, then did something no one expected.

She bowed.

Not deeply. Not theatrically. But with unmistakable respect.

“You fought with intelligence,” Zora said aloud. “And restraint. That’s leadership.”

The whispers changed tone.

“She earned that.”

“That wasn’t luck.” 

“She didn’t overpower her. She outthought her.”

Zora turned to Jayden.

“The training group needs her perspective,” she said. “She understands limits. And pain. She fit as the leader and am willing to accept it”

Jayden’s expression remained unreadable. He raised his hand again, silencing the crowd.

“The outcome is clear,” he said. “Zora will remain as an assistant commander. Serena will lead alongside her, as the leader.”

The words hit like a shockwave.

I felt it immediately, the shift. Eyes no longer looked through me. They looked at me.

Jayden dismissed the crowd shortly after, ordering rotations and rest. Warriors dispersed slowly, still talking, still glancing back.

Zora leaned toward me briefly. “You didn’t win because you’re an Alpha,” she said. 

“You won because you fight like a warrior.” Then she walked away.

I stood there, exhausted, bruised, blood drying on my skin, but steady. I had paid for this victory. Zora is truly strong and I acknowledge that she is a good warrior. And it showed.

“Serena.”

Jayden’s voice came from behind me.

I turned. He looked at me with something new in his eyes, not approval. Not softness. Awareness.

“Get ready,” he said casually, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “We’re sending off all the guests this afternoon.”

“What, why am I needed there?” I asked, not planning to go anywhere, as I don't plan to send off my parents or see them off.

He leaned closer just enough for only me to hear. 

“You’ll find out,” he said. “Rest while you can.”

Then he straightened and walked away, leaving the bond humming with warning and anticipation.

Whatever he was planning.

It wasn’t going to be simple.

And it definitely wasn’t going to be peaceful.