ADAM
Claire’s perfu lingered long after she was gone — sothing floral and heavy, the kind that clung to air and skin until it suffocated everything else. I’d hoped her slamming the door ant the argunt was over, but the universe rarely gave such rcy.
The door burst open again.
She stood there — arms crossed, eyes burning with the sa fury that had first attracted years ago. Back then, I’d mistaken it for passion. Now I knew better.
"I’m not done talking, Adam," she said sharply.
I didn’t look up from my papers. "You should be. I said no."
Her heels clicked across the floor until she stood right before my desk, blocking the light. "You’re protecting her more than necessary," she said, voice trembling with accusation. "That’s why you won’t let act."
"I’m protecting the rules," I replied flatly, signing a docunt that I wasn’t really reading. "And the money those rules bring in."
"Don’t you dare pretend this is just business," she hissed, leaning closer. "Is she of interest to you?"
That made pause — just for a heartbeat. Then I placed the pen down carefully.
"No."
A lie, maybe. But one I was going to live with.
Claire searched my face, hoping for a flinch, a giveaway. She found none. I’d learned long ago how to school my expressions into marble.
She scoffed and crossed her arms again. "You can’t even look at when you lie."
"I can’t look at you when you’re being ridiculous," I corrected, reaching for another file.
Her breath hitched, and then she laughed — short, bitter. "Ridiculous? You think I don’t see it? The way you watch her, the way you—"
"Enough." My tone sliced through her words, low and final. "You’re crossing a line."
But she didn’t stop. Claire never did. "You think no one’s noticed?"
I ignored her, deliberately turning my gaze to the papers.
"Adam!" she snapped.
I didn’t look up.
For a second, I thought she’d throw sothing. Instead, she stomped her heel against the marble and let out a frustrated sound — almost a growl. "You’re impossible!"
Her exit was dramatic — just as I’d expected. The door banged shut hard enough to rattle the hinges.
I exhaled slowly, leaning back in my chair. "Like a petulant child," I muttered to the empty room.
The silence that followed was welco, but brief. My thoughts, as usual, refused to behave. I tried to focus on the numbers sprawled before — profit margins, trade taxes, shipping requests — but the words floated like smoke.
Claire wasn’t wrong to feel threatened. She was clever, ambitious, loyal in her own way. But she’d stopped understanding the mont she started believing she owned . Ours had been a technical pairing — convenient, strategic, and necessary. Whatever affection had existed between us had long since soured under the weight of my crown.
Still, she’d been there when things began to fall apart five years ago.
When our pack’s coffers started running dry.
When I first realized how deep our father’s excesses had gutted us — the mansions, the banquets, the unending hunts. A legacy of decadence disguised as power. We’d inherited the crown and the debt that ca with it.
That was when I had the idea.
The contests had always existed — ritual duels during the Festival of Celebration, ant to honor the goddess and the old warrior code. But they’d been small, private, for the pack alone.
Until I made them bigger.
Open to outsiders. Stread in secret. The betting pools started underground — a hidden network buried in the dark web, accessible only to those who knew where to look. And people did look. Gods, how they loved it.
Blood drew crowds. Violence sold faster than rcy ever did.
Within months, we had thousands watching. Within a year, millions. Packs from across the regions placed wagers. Mages, humans, rogues — all of them. We called it the Festival of the Moon, but really, it had beco sothing else entirely.
And it worked.
Funds flowed back in. The commoners grew inspired — hungrier, more ambitious. Watching the strong fight made them want to work harder, train harder, buy into the illusion that one day, they could stand there too and win the hefty prize.
A win-win, I’d called it then.
The elite got entertainnt. The poor got motivation. And I... got my kingdom stable again.
But now, as I sat staring at the sa figures that had once thrilled , I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d simply found a prettier way to sell the sa sickness my father had.
Right on cue, the door opened again — but this ti, it wasn’t Claire.
Noah walked in first, followed by Daniel. Both grinning like idiots.
"Claire’s crying again," Noah announced, shutting the door behind him. "Should we be worried?"
Daniel chuckled. "Depends. Did you say sothing or not say sothing?"
I didn’t look up. "If you two ca here to play gossip hounds, you can leave the sa way you ca."
"Relax," Noah said, flopping into a chair. "We just ca to see if you’re still alive. After all, not many survive Claire’s temper without a few scorch marks."
Daniel snorted, seating himself across from . "You have to admit, it’s entertaining. She stord out like a thundercloud."
I shrugged, flipping to another docunt I wasn’t absorbing.
Noah leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "All right, then. Let’s talk numbers. Contest stats ca in an hour ago."
That got my attention. "And?"
He grinned. "We’ve broken every record. The view count doubled overnight after Sage’s last match. The betting pools are insane — half of them want to see her against last year’s champion, Darius."
Of course they did. Darius — the golden boy, the ’hero’ who’d managed to win last year’s entire contest without a single loss. He’d entered again this year, chasing history. The people loved that kind of story.
"They’ll get their wish soon enough," I said quietly. "The contest ends in a few days. She’ll make it to the final."
Daniel raised an eyebrow. "You sound certain."
"I am."
"Why?"
I leaned back. "She has endurance, precision, and sothing none of the others have — control. Even when she’s killing, she’s thinking. The others react; she calculates."
Noah nodded slowly. "He’s right. I watched the footage again. She doesn’t swing wildly. Every strike is asured."
Daniel rolled his eyes. "You two sound like fanboys. I’m still betting against her. Darius will crush her."
Noah smirked. "I’ll take that bet. I say she holds till the end, maybe even wins."
Daniel scoffed. "You’re both delusional."
Noah turned to . "What about you, Alpha? Where’s your money?"
I looked up at them both, the faintest smile tugging at my lips. "On her."
That made them pause.
Daniel blinked. "You’re betting for her?"
"Yes."
Noah’s grin widened. "Well, well. The great Adam betting for the blood witch."
Daniel laughed. "So she is getting under your skin."
I said nothing. It was true after all.
But, I could see that my brothers were just in the sa boat with too.
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