The arena was ancient, stone carved from the bones of mountains, lined with spiked banners and heavy wolf statues that watched like ghosts of a forgotten war.
Every Alpha was present. Their soldiers filled the surrounding ledges, shoulder to shoulder in grim silence. The atmosphere crackled with something sharp and cruel—anticipation, maybe. Or hunger.
Athena stood in the high balcony reserved for the goddess. Alone. Powerless. Her fists clenched tight at her sides.
Cassius entered the ring shirtless, wearing only dark combat trousers and worn leather wraps around his fists and feet. Scars laced his torso like runes. His eyes met hers.
Steady. Unflinching.
Live, she mouthed.
He nodded once.
Then Markus entered.
Clad in black and gold armor, Markus looked like a king of blades. Smirking. Confident. Dangerous.
He didn't bring a training blade. He brought his real one.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"This is a test," one of the younger Alphas muttered. "Not an execution—"
