Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Melody’s POV

The Spirit Ball Cup is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The venue sprawls across acres of open ground, a fortress of stone and steel rising against the pale winter sky. Banners bearing the crests of every competing pack ripple in the breeze, their colours vivid against the frost-tipped grass. The air hums with energy, wolves pacing in restless anticipation, the scent of adrenaline and ambition thick enough to taste.

I sign my name on the roster alongside Ralph, Rudy, and Thomas. Bobby has joined us too.

He calls himself our security, but he is here for me, I know he feels protective since the incident with the rogue and I like having him around. My cousins grin like they’ve already won, and Thomas gives me that smile, the one that feels like sunlight breaking through clouds. It’s warm, steady, and for a moment, it makes me forget the chill in my bones.

I thought it was a blessing in disguise when Jenner bowed out at the last minute and Thomas took his place, but now I’m not so sure. There is a growing tension between us that I can’t ignore and it makes me nervous.

“Ready to make history?” he asks, his voice teasing but soft at the edges.

“I’m ready to win,” I shoot back, chin high. “You’d better keep up.”

His laugh rumbles low, rich and easy. “Keep up? Melody, I plan to leave you in the dust.”

I arch a brow. “Big words for someone who hasn’t beaten me in training in months. You will place, no doubt, but it will be beneath me.”

“That’s because I’ve been holding back,” he says, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Wouldn’t want to bruise your ego before the big day.”

I snort. “Please. You couldn’t bruise my ego if you tried.”

Thomas gestures towards the sprawling arena beyond the gates. “Come on. Walk with me.

Get familiar with the grounds before the chaos starts.”

I hesitate for a heartbeat, then nod.

“Fine. But don’t think this stroll means I’m going to go easy on you.”

We fall into step, weaving through the throngs of competitors and spectators. The arena looms ahead, a massive oval of packed earth surrounded by towering stands carved from dark stone. Beyond it, warm-up zones buzz with activity and barked orders filling the air.

Wolves in human form stretch and spar, their movements fluid and lethal. The scent of pine smoke drifts from the food stalls lining the outer ring, mingling with the metallic tang of blood from early practice bouts.

“This place is incredible,” I murmur, taking it all in. “It feels… bigger than I imagined.”

Thomas glances at me, his expression softening.

“You belong here, Melody. More than anyone.” His fingers brush mine as we make our way closer to the lake that fills the horizon beyond the arena.

His words hit deeper than I expect. I shove the feeling down and smirk instead. “Flattery won’t save you when I win.” My fingers tingle and my wolf stirs. She has been frantic with the anticipation of seeing Arthur, but something about Thomas calms her. He is safe, steady and always there.

“Oh, I’m counting on winning,” he says lightly, but there’s something in his tone, something that makes my wolf perk up and pay attention. “And when I do… I’m going to do something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

I blink, thrown by the sudden seriousness in his voice. “Like… buy yourself a trophy?”

His smile tilts, almost sad. “Not exactly.” He kicks a rock on the path and puts his hands in his pockets, turning to head back towards the arena.

I laugh it off, wondering if he means what I think. “Well, you’d better start planning your consolation speech, because I’m taking that title.” I jest, following him.

He chuckles and stops, turning to face me, but his eyes linger on me a moment before he looks away. My chest tightens. What did he mean? My wolf hums with curiosity, but I push it aside. Focus. Win first. Questions later.

We round a corner, and voices drift towards us, one is particularly high-pitched, grating. I know that tone before I even see her.

“Arthur! Wait for me!” Regina’s shrill call slices through the air. My stomach drops like a stone. I glance through the trees just in time to see her struggling with an absurd amount of luggage, tottering on heels that have no business being near a training ground. She waves dramatically, calling his name again.

Arthur.

My breath catches. Two years. Two years since his rejection shattered me. Two years since I swore I’d never let him see me broken again. And now he’s here, broad-shouldered, commanding, every inch the future Alpha he was born to be. His dark hair gleams in thefading sunlight, his movements sharp and sure as he strides ahead, ignoring Regina’s

desperate calls.

My wolf whimpers, torn between rage and longing. “Mate.” The word echoes like a wound reopening.

Regina beams like the sun itself, dragging her ridiculous bags as if she’s chasing a dream.

And maybe she is. She wanted this, wanted him. She has always set her sights on being Luna.

Seeing her now, smiling like she owns the world, makes the old pain tear open all over again.

“She has taken everything that should be ours,” my wolf snarls, fury simmering beneath the surface. “And now she flaunts it.”

I square my shoulders, forcing the ache down deep where it belongs. I’ve survived worse than this. I can survive this too. But the sight of Arthur, so close, so untouchable, makes my chest ache like it did the night he spoke those words, ‘I reject you.’

“I remember” I whisper quietly to myself. The stares. The way the pack looked at me like I was dirt under their boots. Slutty orphan. Unworthy. Words that clung to me like burrs, cutting deeper every time. I left everything behind to escape that shame. I clawed my way back from nothing, trained until my muscles screamed, until my hands bled, until I couldn’t

stand without shaking. And still, seeing him now, the wound feels fresh.

Thomas notices my silence. “Melody?” His voice is gentle, concerned.

“I’m fine,” I lie, eyes locked on Arthur’s retreating figure. He doesn’t see me. Of course he doesn’t. Why would he? He made his choice. And I made mine.

I drag my gaze away, forcing a smile for Thomas. “Looks like the circus is in town.”

He snorts. “Ignore them. They’re not worth your attention.”

Easy for him to say. My wolf growls softly, unsettled. I clench my fists, my nails biting into my palms. I’ve worked too hard to let this break me. I’m strong. I’m ready, I think.

Can I really do this?

Can I win?

Not just the Cup, but the battle inside me?