로그인“Abomination” someone shouted
“Her father must be ashamed of her that he allowed her participate in the tournament.”
“She is a taboo.” One screamed, throwing dirt at her. Liora's heart bled as she watched their eyes trying to rip her apart.
Draven stood and watched, his eyes scanning through the crowd, staring at Kaelen's shocked features. He smirked
“That's why she had a mask.”
“She also changed her voice too? Why didn't the other player felt anything”
“A woman beating our top warrior. Isn't that a bad omen?”
“Moon goddess please forgive our sin– that we allowed her”
“She's a woman” another roared
“A princess for that matter” one said.
Wolves surged to their feet in the stands, snarling, spitting, throwing scraps of food and rocks towards the arena floor. Dust filled the air as the mob pressed forward, their outrage justified.
Liora's body locked, every instinct screaming to run..her hands trembled as stone skidded across the dirt around her. Her wolf whimpered inside her.
“She shouldn't escape.”
“She's a disgrac.”
“A princess was supposed to be watching not engaging with sword”
“Kill her”
One rock struck her shoulder, sending a jolt of pain through her. Liora flinched, biting back a cry. Her father's pack would not defend her. Even with the man that claimed he loved her. No one came.
A growl shattered the chaos
Draven stepped forward, his chest heaving with fury. He lifted his sword, slammed it to the ground.
But that didn't stop the crowd's attacks. They threw stones– heavier, faster and instantly. Draven forced his Alpha aura
The air itself trembled as wolves across the arena collapsed to their knees, whispering as the weight of his dominance crushed the mob into silence.
Liora staggered under the force, her knees almost buckling, but his hand shot out, catching her elbow, steadying her.
He knew it was her from the beginning but why didn't he rat her out until she won?
The crowd stilled.
His arm against her arm was firm. He turned his head just enough for her to see the faint curl of his lips
“No one” he growled, voice cutting through the stunned crowd. “Touches her”
“You all cheered and clapped for her when she defeated me and now you want her head. Filthy hypocrites. Not grateful that a woman was able to defeat hundreds of our contestants for this and while you all cheered and spat. She trained and tried. The thought alone is frightening enough”
“She knows the tradition. A woman can't participate in a fight.” One yelled.
“There it is time for abolish such tradition”
“Are you insane? This tradition has guided our ascentor from time and you want them abolish”
“Just like her. We need to kill him too”
“She had corrupted him”
“I see why he was lazy on the field. He knew it was her”
Liora's heart slammed against her ribs. The weight of his aura pressed against her wolf, who whined.
Draven leaned closer, his lips near her ear. “You didn't just become anything. You became a fighter like I always thought you would. Aren't you some cute obedient little wolf?” His grip on her arm tightened. “ Wrong timing by humiliating me”
Liora's chin lifted. “I beat you fair and square” even though fear ran shiver down her spine.
“Hmm. Not really a little wolf.” his teeth barred a silent snarl. His golden eyes locked onto hers.
His hand slid down her arm, fingers brushing her skin. “You think you have won? You think this is victory?” His thumb traced the back of her hand rough and needed it. “You have no idea what you have done”:
Liora jerked her hand back, glaring. “Stay away from me”
But before she could take a step, his entire body went rigid, his pupil dilated, as if he was in shock and his golden eyes glowed brighter, locking onto her like a predator scenting blood..
She froze
What?
The word died on her lips as heat crashed through her. Her wolf howled inside her, surging forward, claws scraping at her chest. Her knees weakened as invisible chains tightened around her heart, pulling to bind.
Draven's lips parted. “Mate”
The crowd was shocked at the word.
Liora staggered back, shaking her head violently. “No” she whispered, horror crawling through her veins. “No, no no no”
Draven's hand shot out, gripping her wrist, anchoring her in place. His gaze devoured her “yes” he growled
Her wolf cried out in joy, surging against her chest. She clutched her ribs, her face twisting in pain. “ No…..Not you”
From the stands, a strangled sound tore through
Her heart stopped as she turned. Kaelen
He stood at the railing, his usually calm face not there. His soft eyes widened in disbelief. His lips trembled as though words failed him.
“Liora” his voice broke, barely audible even to her
Her throat tightened. Memories slammed into her– him weaving clovers and that gentle laughter
Draven tugged her, forcing her to face him. His lips curled into a fierce, humorless smile. “ You were too good for him” liora glared at him hard. “Yu can glare all you want, little wolf. You can hate me, fight me, scream at me” his hand pressed to her waist, possessive. “But the bond doesn't lie”
Her chest rose and fell in sharp panic. Her nails dug into his wrist, desperate to pry him off. “Being your mate is a death sentence.” She spat. “My pack will never allow it. And I will never choose you”
For the first time, his smile faltered. His eyes narrowed, pain flashing for only an instant before fury swallowed it all.
“Then no need* he said. “ That choosing isn't yours to do”
The crowd erupted again– screaming, shouting and demanding for her deaths, demanding for her punishment. The elders tried to quiet them, but their rage surges hot
Liora stood trembling, caught between two gazes– Draven's golden eyes, devouring her and a keen broken state piercing her heart.
Her wolf whimpered clawing for Draven even as her soul ached for Kaelen.
The city moved, but differently.Not slower. Not faster. Just… lighter in the spaces that mattered. Varenth’s rhythm had changed imperceptibly, like the first breaths after a storm, when the wind has passed but the air itself is altered. People still acted, still fulfilled tasks. The trains ran. Deliveries arrived. Signals flickered across the network. But between each action, there was a pause—subtle, personal, unmeasurable by any algorithm Kaelith had designed.Draven noticed it first in the quiet relay chambers below the northern districts. Operators no longer answered immediately. Supervisors no longer confirmed instantly. The ledger still expected compliance—but what it received was choice wrapped in reflection.“They’re leaving spaces,” Silver said, eyes tracing the anomalies. “Gaps between signal and response. Gaps the ledger can’t anticipate.”Draven leaned against a console, watching the live feeds of human micro-decisions—the small hesitations, the considered breaths, the si
The stories did not spread evenly.They did not flood the city in waves or spark visible movements that the ledger could chart. They moved instead along trust lines—quiet channels, shared shifts, pauses between tasks where people leaned closer than protocol allowed and spoke just softly enough to matter.They were not speeches.They were not demands.They were confessions.Most began the same way.I waited.I acted.I chose wrong.I’d choose again.No names followed. No dates. No metrics.The ledger registered none of it.But Varenth did.In a logistics hub near the river arc, conveyors slowed as two operators paused mid-cycle. A junior technician stood frozen at a console, amber lights pulsing in steady cadence. No alert had triggered. No escalation window had opened. Everything was within tolerance.Still, his hands trembled.“I froze last week,” he said suddenly.The words landed without warning, heavy in the air—like something forbidden by custom rather than law.“I did everything
The first fracture did not look like defiance.It looked like fatigue.Across Varenth, people continued to move, continued to choose, continued to comply just enough to remain functional—but the effort began to show in places the ledger had never been trained to read. Voices flattened. Humor dulled. Decisions took longer, not because of fear, but because every option now carried an aftertaste.Memory had weight.And the weight changed posture.In the lower transit ring, a supervisor stared at a maintenance request blinking amber on her console. The fix was simple. She had done it a hundred times without escalation. Her hand hovered over the confirmation field.Then she opened the context pane.Past discretionary actions unfurled—nothing incriminating, nothing heroic. Just patterns. A tendency to act early. A habit of trusting her judgment. A subtle statistical fingerprint of initiative.She imagined the ledger watching—not judging, not accusing. Remembering.She closed the pane withou
The morning after the forum did not arrive with panic.That was the most dangerous part.Varenth woke as it always did—transport lanes breathing open in measured pulses, towers bleeding light into low cloud, schedules sliding into place with mathematical grace. The city moved with the confidence of something that had survived worse than unease. There were no riots, no mass refusals, no visible fracture lines for the city to rally around.Nothing dramatic enough to resist.But people hesitated.Not long enough to trigger alerts.Not long enough to be named fear.Just long enough to be felt.A pause before confirming a request.A recalculation before speaking aloud.A moment of silence where instinct used to live.The ledger registered it as noise—statistical variance well within acceptable bounds.Draven felt it as pressure.He stood at the edge of the old relay chamber, boots planted on scarred metal, watching Silver strip nonessential signal paths from the underground network. The ro
The consequences did not fall all at once.They arrived as refinement.Across Varenth, the ledger did not retaliate with lockdowns or mass suspensions. There were no dramatic purges, no visible crackdown that could be named oppression. That would have been crude. Inefficient. Too easily opposed.Instead, the system adjusted the texture of daily life.Confidence thresholds narrowed by fractions small enough to escape protest.Appeal pathways lengthened by steps that appeared reasonable in isolation.Discretionary permissions remained—but their prerequisites multiplied, layering justification upon justification until spontaneity became labor.The city did not feel punished.It felt heavier.Draven noticed it first in the data shadows—the places where movement used to breathe. Response curves that once flexed now resisted. Human initiative still registered, but it returned diminishing value, like an echo trapped in dampened space. Acts that had felt aligned the day before now landed with
Normal operations began at 10:00.No sirens.No alerts.No elevated risk markers rippling across Varenth’s systems.The ledger favored mornings like this—predictable demand curves, stable response windows, human behavior folded neatly into expectation. These were the hours where efficiency confirmed itself, where variance slept, where clarity felt benevolent.The city flowed on schedule. Trains arrived where they were meant to. Lights shifted in pre-approved gradients. Human motion aligned with algorithmic confidence like breath following pulse.That was why the moment mattered.Draven watched Varenth from a stripped-down terminal—no identifying tags, no traceable architecture, nothing the ledger could anchor to him. He had removed every nonessential display. No timestamps. No confidence bars. No countdown overlays.Only motion.Raw, human movement—unsmoothed by interpretation.“They’re in position,” Silver said quietly.She wasn’t looking at the screen. She had one hand pressed light







