Kael's POV
"You're not doing this."
My voice came out harder than I meant, but I didn't care. Mira stood there holding Elder Thorne's knife, looking small and scared and stupidly brave, and I wanted to shake some sense into her.
"I have to," she said quietly.
"No. You don't." I stepped closer, fighting the urge to grab her and run. Just throw her over my shoulder and disappear into the mountains where Lyssa could never find us. "You challenge her, you die. It's that simple."
"And if I don't challenge her?" Mira's brown eyes met mine, and I saw steel beneath the fear. "I submit and become her prisoner? Or run and watch innocent people die in a war?"
"Yes!" The word exploded from me. "Any of those! All of those! Anything except walking into certain death!"
"His daughter was a legendary healer," Mira whispered, looking at Elder Thorne. "And Lyssa killed her. What chance do I have?"
The old wolf's face was carved from grief. "My Kira was skilled, yes. But she was also arrogant. Thought her abilities made her untouchable." His eyes found Mira's. "You're different. You heal because you care, not because you want glory. That might make all the difference."
"Or it might get her killed faster," I snarled.
Mira turned to me, and something in her expression made my chest tight. "I died once already, Kael. Took a bullet for a kid I barely knew. If I'm going to die again, at least let it be for something that matters."
The words hit me like claws to the gut.
She'd already died saving someone. Already proven she'd sacrifice herself without hesitation. And here I was, trying to cage that bravery to keep her safe.
Just like I'd caged Vera. Locked my sister away to protect her, and she'd almost died anyway from complications I couldn't prevent with walls and guards.
"You matter," I said roughly. "Your life matters."
"So do theirs." She gestured to the village around us. "Every female dying in childbirth because Lyssa hoards medicine. Every cub lost to infections. Every male who watches his family suffer because their leader won't bow to a tyrant." Her voice strengthened. "I can't fix everything. But maybe I can fix this."
Soren moved closer, his wings rustling. "If you do this, you need to understand—Lyssa won't play fair. She'll sabotage you, poison your patients, spread lies. She's had three years to perfect her cruelty."
"Then I'll have to be smarter." Mira looked at the knife in her hand. "When do I challenge her?"
"Dawn," Elder Thorne said. "In front of all witnesses. Cut your palm, speak the old words, and the challenge is sealed."
Three hours. We had three hours to prepare for Mira to sign her death warrant.
"There has to be another way," I said desperately, hating how weak I sounded.
"There isn't." Mira's hand trembled, but her voice stayed steady. "Unless you have a better idea?"
I didn't. That was the worst part. Every option was terrible, but at least this way she was fighting instead of surrendering.
"Fine." I forced the word out. "But you train with me until dawn. I'll teach you everything I know about reading opponents, spotting traps, staying three steps ahead."
"I'm not fighting her with swords, Kael. It's a healing competition."
"Lyssa fights with minds, not weapons. Same principles apply." I looked at Elder Thorne. "What are the trial rules?"
"Each healer receives three patients with the same condition. Whoever saves more wins. The tribes vote if there's a tie." He paused. "Lyssa will choose the condition. As the challenged party, that's her right."
Of course. She'd pick something impossible. Something designed to make Mira fail.
"We need to prepare for anything," Soren said. "Practice procedures, gather supplies, plan for sabotage."
"And pray," Elder Thorne added quietly.
We scattered. I pulled Mira aside to a quiet corner of the cave while others rushed to gather medical supplies.
"Listen to me," I said, gripping her shoulders. "Lyssa's weakness is her arrogance. She thinks she's untouchable. Use that. Make her underestimate you."
"I don't think she underestimates anyone." Mira's voice was small.
"She underestimated you tonight when she threatened that boy. Thought you'd crumble. Instead, you stood up to her." I caught her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes. "You're stronger than she thinks. Smarter than she expects. Use it."
"What if I lose?" The question came out barely a whisper.
I couldn't answer. Couldn't promise she'd win when we both knew the odds.
Instead, I did something I'd never done before. Something I'd sworn I'd never do after watching my parents die because my father loved too much and became careless.
I pulled her against my chest and held her.
She stiffened in surprise, then melted into me, her small frame shaking.
"I'm scared," she admitted.
"Good. Fear keeps you sharp." I breathed in her scent—still strange, still human, but somehow right. "But don't let it control you. When dawn comes, you walk out there like you've already won."
She pulled back enough to look up at me. "Why do you care so much? We just met."
Why? Because she saved my sister without asking for anything in return. Because she stood up to me when I tried to command her. Because she was soft and fierce and everything I didn't know I needed.
Because in one impossible night, this small human female had become important in ways I didn't understand and couldn't afford to feel.
"Because you're mine," I said simply.
Her eyes widened. "Kael—"
A scout burst into the cave, panting. "Nightfang! The Blessed One's camp—something's happening!"
We rushed outside. In the distance, Lyssa's torches were moving. Not away. Toward us.
"She's coming back," Soren said grimly. "Why?"
My blood ran cold. "She knows. Someone told her about the challenge."
"How?" Mira breathed.
Elder Thorne's face went gray. "There's a spy. Someone in this village works for her."
The betrayal hit like venom. One of our own was feeding information to the enemy.
Lyssa's litter appeared at the village edge, carried by her warriors. She looked freshly awake, golden hair perfect, smile sharp.
"I heard a little bird singing," she called out cheerfully. "Something about a challenge? How exciting!"
Mira stepped forward before I could stop her. "I was going to challenge you at dawn. Properly."
"Oh, I know." Lyssa's smile widened. "But why wait? I accept your challenge now. We start the trial immediately."
"Now?" Mira's voice cracked. "But it's the middle of the night—"
"The old laws don't specify timing. Just that once challenged, I must accept." Lyssa's eyes glittered with malice. "Unless you want to withdraw? Admit you were bluffing?"
It was a trap. Mira wasn't prepared. We hadn't gathered supplies or planned strategy or anything.
Lyssa knew that. That's why she was doing this.
"I need time to prepare," Mira said.
"You'll have five minutes. Same as me." Lyssa gestured to her warriors. "Bring the patients."
Three beastmen were dragged forward. All three were barely conscious, skin gray, breathing shallow. I recognized the symptoms immediately—venom poisoning.
"Shadow serpent venom," Lyssa announced. "Fatal within two hours. No known cure. Whoever saves the most patients wins." She smiled sweetly at Mira. "Good luck, little healer. You'll need it."
My heart stopped.
Shadow serpent venom was a death sentence. The Blessed One's own medicine could barely slow it, and she'd had three years to perfect the treatment.
Mira had five minutes and no preparation.
"This is impossible," Soren breathed.
Mira stared at the dying males, then at Lyssa, then at me.
I saw the moment she decided.
"I accept," she said clearly.
Lyssa's triumph was written across her face. "Excellent. Begin."
Mira knelt beside her first patient, hands already shaking.
And I realized, with horrible certainty, that I was about to watch the female I cared about lose everything.
Elder Thorne gripped my arm. "There's something you need to know about the venom."
"What?"
"My daughter didn't die in the challenge." His voice was barely audible. "She won. Saved all three patients when Lyssa saved none."
"Then how—"
"Lyssa poisoned her afterward. Made it look like an accident." His eyes burned into mine. "Even if Mira wins tonight, Lyssa will kill her anyway. The challenge is just for show."
My claws extended involuntarily.
"Then we kill Lyssa first," I growled.
"Kill the Blessed One, and her fifty tribes go to war. Thousands die." He squeezed my arm harder. "There's only one way to save Mira now."
"Tell me."
"You claim her. Publicly. Make her your mate before witnesses. By law, killing a mated female means war with her mate's entire bloodline. Even Lyssa won't risk that."
Mate. The word echoed through my skull.
I'd sworn I'd never take a mate. Never let anyone close enough to hurt me. Love made males weak, careless, dead.
But watching Mira kneel beside that dying male, determination carved into her delicate features, I realized something terrifying:
It was already too late.
I already cared too much.
And if claiming her was the only way to keep her alive, then I'd break every vow I'd ever made.
"How do I claim her?" I asked.
Elder Thorne pulled out a silver cuff. "Place this on her wrist. Speak the binding words. Once done, she's yours. Under your protection. Forever."
Forever. The word should have terrified me.
Instead, it felt right.
I took the cuff, my decision made.
But as I moved toward Mira, Lyssa's voice rang out:
"Oh, and one more rule I forgot to mention." Her smile was poison. "If the new healer loses the challenge, she doesn't just get exiled. She becomes my property. My slave. For the rest of her very short life."
Mira's head snapped up, horror flooding her face.
"That's not part of the old laws!" Elder Thorne protested.
"It is now." Lyssa's eyes gleamed. "Unless Nightfang wants to object? Start a war? Kill thousands to save one human?"
She had me trapped. Either I let Mira risk slavery, or I started a war that would destroy everyone.
The silver cuff burned in my palm.
And Mira's first patient stopped breathing.