The air was electric with tension as the makeshift arena formed within the council’s hall. Warriors and alphas formed a rough circle around the two combatants, their expressions ranging from intrigue to bloodthirsty anticipation. Torches burned high, casting flickering shadows against the ancient stone walls, illuminating the faces of those who had gathered to witness the trial by combat.
Layla’s heart pounded, her breath shallow as she stood on the sidelines, her hands clenched so tightly her nails threatened to pierce her palms. She should have found a way to stop this. She should have fought harder. But now, it was too late.
Ronan and Gideon stood across from each other, the air between them crackling with barely contained fury. But Gideon wasn’t fighting—no, the champion he had chose
