🌘Kate pov
The arena still hummed with the lingering energy of the duel. Dust floated in the warm air, the scent of scorched earth from Kate's battle clinging to every breath. Her heartbeat had slowed from the frenzied rhythm of combat, but the thrum of power within her hadn't faded — Lysandra was still there, not a whisper this time, but a steady, grounding force that moved with her.
The pack's eyes followed her every step as she descended from the platform. She could feel their awe, their submission, and something deeper — respect. Even Aria, still nursing her pride and the sting of defeat, kept her gaze lowered.
From the crowd, Lila emerged. Her armor bore scratches and dust, but her chin was lifted high. "Luna," she said with quiet conviction, and though it was a single word, it rippled through the arena like a spark catching dry grass. Others echoed it, voices rising one by one until the title wrapped around Kate like a mantle.
Ryker watched from a short distance, his eyes locked on her as though nothing else existed. Pride burned in his gaze, but so did something darker, more possessive — a promise that anyone who challenged her now would pay dearly.
Yet beyond the triumph, Kate felt it — a prickle at the back of her neck, as if something unseen was watching from the treeline beyond the arena walls. Lysandra stirred within her, low and wary.
The celebration had only just begun, but so had the danger.