Chapter 3

Fifty million.

The arena erupted.

"Who would place a bet that high?"

"It has to be an Alpha from a major pack!"

"Does someone actually think she can do this?"

Ethan's already dark expression became thunderous.

He turned to his Beta, Eric. "Find out who owns that account! Now!"

"I can't, Alpha," Eric reported, his voice trembling. "They're using the highest level of encryption."

Ethan's gaze snapped to me, sharp and suspicious. "It seems you have secrets, Sophia," he said coldly. "What Alpha is backing you?"

The accusation was so absurd it was almost laughable.

I was bleeding out from a trial he had sanctioned, and he thought I had some powerful, secret lover.

The last few shards of my broken heart turned to dust.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, struggling to my feet.

"Liar!" Ethan roared. "No one would bet that high on you!"

Bella chose that moment to speak, her voice soft with false concern.

"Ethan, maybe Sophia does have connections we don't know about. After all…" she trailed off, a master of manipulation.

"After all, what?" Ethan pressed.

"Well," she sighed, "she has been going out a lot lately. She said it was for pack business, but… no one ever really knew what she was doing."

It was a lie, a venomous twist of my duties as Luna.

But there was no point explaining now. The seeds of doubt had been planted by Bella and watered by Ethan's own mistrust.

Now, they had grown into a forest of condemnation.

"Since you have a mysterious benefactor," he sneered, "this trial should be more of a challenge. Begin the second stage!"

The arena floor shifted.

Iron bars rose from the ground, and from a dark tunnel opposite me, a werewolf emerged.

But this wasn't a normal werewolf.

Its eyes were blood-red, foam flecked its lips, and its muscles were unnaturally swollen.

A rogue—a wolf lost to mindless, bloodthirsty rage.

"This is an execution!" I screamed, a fresh wave of despair hitting me. "This isn't a trial!"

"Scared?" Ethan's voice dripped with scorn from his throne. "If your mysterious benefactor has so much faith in you, this should be nothing. Or you can get on your knees and beg."

The rogue locked onto me, a low growl rumbling in its throat.

Just as it was about to lunge, I saw them: three tiny silver needles embedded in the back of its neck.

It hadn't gone rogue naturally. It was being controlled. "Ethan! It's being controlled!" I shouted, but the wolf was already charging.

I dodged, but the silver poison was already taking its toll on my body.

My movements were sluggish.

I'd lost too much blood in the first stage, and my stamina was plummeting.

The controlled wolf was immensely strong and fast.

Its claws tore through the ground where I'd stood a second ago, sending stone chips flying.

I rolled away, but not before its claws tore a gash in my arm, deep enough to see bone.

The pain nearly made me black out.

The crowd roared with a mixture of excitement and mockery.

"She's done for!"

"I told you she wouldn't last!"

"Look, it's going to tear her apart!"

Gritting my teeth, I tried to steady myself, but the blood loss and poison made my vision swam.

The wolf lunged again, its foul breath hitting my face. I could see the drool hanging from its fangs.

This time, I couldn't dodge.

Ethan's voice echoed in my head, laced with panic.

"Beg for mercy! Just beg and I'll stop it!"

I closed my eyes.

It wasn't fear I felt, but a burning, defiant rage.

Was I really going to die here, a victim of this vile plot?

Just as the deadly claws were about to rip out my throat—

An Alpha's aura slammed into the arena.

One so immense, so ancient and overwhelming, it made Ethan's feel like a candle next to a forest fire.

It pressed down on every soul like a physical mountain, forcing them to gasp, forcing them to bow their heads in submission.

The rogue wolf let out a terrified whimper, froze in mid-air, and then collapsed to the ground.

It twitched once and then lay still.

The entire stadium was silent.

I opened my eyes to see a tall figure stepping out of the shadows of the VIP box.

His name spread through the stands in hushed, fearful whispers: Gabriel.

Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his presence was absolute.

His dark, predatory eyes swept across the arena, and finally, they landed on me.

He smiled, a slow, dangerous curve of his lips.

"An interesting game," his voice was a low, magnetic rumble. "But my asset appears to be at her breaking point. Perhaps it's time to change the rules."