Competition

Raiden’s POV

The steady scratching of my pen against paper filled the office while morning sunlight spilled through the towering windows behind me. Stacks of reports covered nearly every inch of my desk. Territory disputes. Border patrol updates. Financial summaries. Supply inventories. Apparently being a king meant eighty percent paperwork and twenty percent threatening people until they acted right.

A truly inspiring lifestyle.

I leaned back slightly in my chair and rubbed a hand across my jaw while flipping through another report. My office overlooked the eastern side of the palace grounds where warriors trained from sunrise until dark. Even from here I could hear distant impacts from sparring matches along with occasional shouting.

At least somebody around here was enjoying themselves.

The door opened without warning. “Raiden.”

I looked up to find Kael walking inside carrying a thick black folder beneath his arm. My beta shut the door behind him before tossing the paperwork onto my desk. “Here’s the lineup and registration files for the warrior tournament,” he said. “Date’s officially locked for two weeks from now. Rings and mats are already being inspected. We’ve got our elite fighters handling security and referee positions.”

I grabbed the folder immediately. “Thank you.” I flipped it open while scanning the first few pages. “Did you look over the contestants yet?”

“Briefly.” Kael dropped into the chair across from me. “Turnout looks bigger compared to last year. A lot bigger.”

“That’s already an improvement.” I snorted.

“Last year half the competitors fought like drunk toddlers.” Kael smirked. “One competitor cried because somebody broke his nose.”

“He entered a combat tournament,” I sighed as I shook my head. “He said it was excessive violence.” I stared at him flatly.

Kael lifted both hands innocently. “I’m just repeating the complaint.”

“Remind me again why wolves became so soft,” I rolled my eyes so hard I think they almost got stuck.

“Social media probably.”

A laugh escaped me despite myself while I continued looking through the files.

The yearly warrior competition was one of the largest events in the kingdom. Packs traveled from every territory to compete for recognition, rank, wealth, status, and sometimes simple pride. Strong alphas loved proving dominance. Betas treated the entire thing like a personal challenge from the Moon Goddess herself.

Honestly, half these idiots would probably fistfight over breathing rights if given the opportunity. Still, the tournament served a larger purpose. The strongest competitors caught our attention.

Exceptional warriors earned positions within the royal guard. Others joined the royal army depending on skill level, temperament, and whether they could follow orders without behaving like oversized hormonal teenagers. Which eliminated a surprising amount of candidates.

I flipped another page and paused briefly. Several names lacked pack affiliation entirely. Interesting. “That’s odd,” I muttered.

Kael leaned forward slightly. “What?”

“There are multiple contestants without pack names listed.”

“That happen often?”

“Rarely.” My eyes narrowed while reading another file. “Most wolves advertise their pack like it’s a personality trait.”

“No lies detected.”

I kept reading while mentally sorting through the registrations. Warriors from northern territories. Eastern mountain packs. Coastal regions. Rogue fighters. Ranked heirs. Several alphas personally entering this year.

The prize pool probably explained the insane turnout. First place winners received one million dollars toward equipment, infrastructure, defenses, and upgrades for their territory. An additional hundred thousand went directly to the champion. That kind of money made people stupid.

Correction. Stupider.

“More referees was definitely the right decision,” Kael said while grabbing one of the files. “Anybody can sneak dirty tricks into early rounds. Final matches should only hold legitimate winners.”

“Exactly.” I nodded once. “Too many complaints last year about rigged fights.”

Kael barked out a laugh. “Complaints? One alpha accused another competitor of poisoning his aura.”

I slowly lowered the papers. “His aura.”

“Direct quote.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I hate people.”

“No you don’t,” he smiled widely.

“I tolerate roughly four individuals daily,” I said as I nodded my head once.

“You’re growing emotionally.”

“Don’t start.”

Kael grinned shamelessly while I continued reading.

The tournament brackets were separated by rank, age, and combat specialization. Close-range fighters. Weapons divisions. Team battles. Elite challenges. Several new additions had been implemented this year including harsher elimination requirements and expanded referee oversight. Which absolutely meant someone would complain.

Probably loudly.

“Send updated memos to every pack by tonight,” I ordered while shutting the folder. “Include every rule change and regulation adjustment. I want confirmation receipts from each territory.”

Kael groaned dramatically. “Wonderful. Nothing brightens my day quite like angry emails from offended alphas.”

I leaned back in my chair. “If they complain beforehand they can’t cry later.”

“With respect, Raiden, they cry over paper cuts,” he sighed as he shook his head.

“That’s because some of them share one collective brain cell.”

“Generous estimate.”

I smirked slightly.

Kael stood from the chair and stretched his arms overhead. “Gym renovations finished early this morning, by the way.”

“Already?”

“Shockingly, yes. Nobody died during construction either. Very successful week,” he bragged.

“Miracles truly exist.”

Truthfully, the upgrades had been overdue for years. Expanded combat rings. Reinforced flooring. Improved sparring equipment. Observation platforms. Additional weight areas. Medical stations. Better security around underground training sectors.

If warriors planned on beating each other unconscious, they could at least do it somewhere decent.

“Have you checked everything personally?” I asked.

“Not yet. I came straight here after collecting tournament confirmations.”

I shoved back from my desk and stood. “Then let’s go look.”

Kael grabbed the folder while I shrugged on my jacket and headed toward the office doors. The palace corridors buzzed with movement as servants crossed between hallways carrying supplies while guards rotated positions near the staircases.

Most people stepped aside quickly once they noticed us approaching.

The palace itself stretched across multiple wings connected through open archways and stone corridors lined with dark wood paneling. Tall windows overlooked the training grounds outside where dozens of warriors sparred beneath the morning sun.

“You know,” Kael said casually beside me, “the gym staff looked nervous about your inspection.”

“They should.”

“You enjoy intimidating people far too much.”

“I enjoy competence.”

“You threatened a contractor because a wall was crooked.”

“The wall was offensive.”

Kael shook his head while laughing quietly. “One day somebody’s going to humble you.”

“That sounds fake.”

Before he could answer a loud crash echoed from the nearby sitting room followed by shouting.

Kael immediately stiffened beside me. I stopped walking. Another voice rang out. Then something shattered.

“Well,” Onyx drawled lazily, “that definitely sounds illegal.”

I ignored him. Mostly because he was probably right.

Kael already reached for the dagger hidden beneath his jacket while I pushed open the double doors leading toward the sitting area. The second we stepped inside chaos greeted us.

A young servant stood frozen beside an overturned table while two warriors argued near the fireplace. One of them had blood dripping from his nose. The other looked seconds away from launching himself across the room. Several guards hovered nearby unsure whether to intervene.

Amazing. I left my office for ten minutes.

Ten.

“Tell me,” I said coldly while stepping farther inside, “why it suddenly looks like a tavern brawl exploded in my palace.”

The entire room went silent instantly.

Onyx snorted. “Oh this should be fun.”