Twinned Flame

The Winner Takes A Bow

Hugo grips the mic tense; he casts a glance up at Braxton, who is all but leaning over the edge of the box to get the best view. The others stood to watch the match as well. Hugo swallows,

“Fighters at the ready?” he began; he took another second ready to start the count-down. Sylvie goes to raise her fists, then ‘WHAM’ Lawrence, in an act of surprise, swung first, connecting with Sylvie’s right cheek, causing her to fall back with a thud on the ground.

“LAWRENCE,” Hugo shouted, hopping off the podium and marching over to the ring. Sylvie raised her hand and singled him to stop. She stood, wiping blood from her lips.

“That’s it? Your punch is softer than I expected,” Sylvie said, spitting blood out of her mouth. She raised her fists.

“That’s the only hit you’ll get,” Sylvie sprinted at Lawrence, her fist slicing inches from his nose. He jerked backwards in time. Sylvie’s eyes were murderous, anger seeping out of every pore. She jumped back, light on her feet, hopping from foot to foot. The two in front of her exchanged a quick glance before Lawrence nodded towards her, signaling him to go first. Allen approached slowly, raising his fists, he swung straight.

Sylvie blocked with her left arm and then swung with her right. Allen dodged and went to grab her. When he reached out, Sylvie grabbed him instead, turning and flipping him onto his back. Lawrence used this opportunity to try and grab her. She kicked her leg out, connecting with his stomach and he stumbled back.

“b***h!” He snarled. Allen groaned, rolling onto his knees.

“Get up!” Lawrence barked at him, Sylvie kicked his face, sending him back onto his back.

“Stay down,” she warned. Allen growled at her. Allen’s eyes flashed molten yellow. His pupils stretched into narrow slits as his breathing deepened. A low growl vibrated from his chest, the split that formed on his lip healed with a hiss. He rolled over faster than before, catching Sylvie off guard and he hopped to his feet. Sylvie could see it now; Phineas had taken over. Lawrence went to attack as she was distracted, it forced her to bend backwards to dodge, and she flipped back up right.

“Don’t ignore me!” Lawrence growled, spit flying from his mouth from rage. Sylvie’s lip curled at him, and they both charged, delivering a flurry of blows. It was a game of swing, dodge, miss as she battled the onslaught of the two males. She got most of the blows in before she was walked back against the ropes. Phineas, Allen’s wolf, was still in control when he succeeded in grappling with her. He yanked her forward, spinning her into his chest, arms pinned to her side.

Lawrence’s own eyes were now the signature wolf yellow, and he let out a joyous laugh. Sylvie struggled against Allen’s grasp,

“What a sight,” Lawrence’s wolf, Domo, almost purred, curling his lip as he walked slowly over to her. She stilled, momentarily tensing her legs in anticipation.

“Closer,” she thought, “Just come closer.” Domo stopped in front of her, putting his hands on his hips.

“Such a pathetic little rogue pup.” he laughed, leaning back, cackling like he had just won. Sylvie pushed up with her legs and, using the force, kicked up her legs to kick Lawrence in the stomach again. Then, using the kick’s own force, she forced her and Allen to fall back. Sylvie fell still in his arms, and when they landed his grip on her loosened enough, she was able to quickly roll off of him. She took no time and quickly grabbed his neck and brought it to the crook of her right elbow. Taking a knee to stabilize, she takes her left arm to hold him in place and immobilize him.

She was cutting off the circulation of his blood flow. Phineas was clawing at her forearm, becoming frantic in his movements. The more he fought to free himself, the tighter the hold became. He was gasping, desperate and wheezing. His eyes flutter between Phineas and Allen, and she grimaces as he coughs, trying to get any pressure released from his neck.

“Surrender!” She growls; Lawrence recovers in the meantime and goes to pry Sylvie off him. Allen choked, thrashing against her as Lawrence tries punching her face. She shields it in her armpit, each blow landing on her head.

“Surrender!” She screams; there’s more desperate scratching. Her arm feels like it’s being torn to ribbons before she feels the double tap. She released Allen, reaching up to grab Lawrence’s arm as he went to punch her head again. Sylvie yanks Lawrence on top of Allen as he’s gasping for air, hand holding his throat. Allen shoves Lawrence off him, rolling over and vomiting all over the ring. Sylvie stands on wobbly legs, her adrenaline kicked into overdrive, she barely registers the bleeding mess of her arm. She swipes at the blood running down her nose, she raises her arms, taking the stance again. Her body is visible shaking; Lawrence moves to stand, wiping away the vomit from Allen off his arm with a gag. He looks up and Sylvie stumbles over, using up all available strength to land another punch on his face. Lawrence catches himself and Sylvie falls into the ropes. She shakes her head, spinning around going to move towards him again when she’s forcibly grabbed by her uninjured arm.

Hugo had stepped into the ring; he was glaring down at her as she met his eye. Hugo raises her arm,

“I’ve called this match,” Hugo announces, her left eye has already started to swell shut. Her right arm is scratched and bleeding, lying almost limp at her side.

“No!” Lawrence yells, attempting to charge at her. Hugo stares him down, and he deflates a little without meeting his eyes.

“Sylvie for the win,” Hugo says. Lawrence growls out with a howl of “This isn’t over!” before ripping the post off the corner of the arena and stalking away. Sylvie looks across the arena; there’s a mixture of expressions throughout the crowd. She expected disgust, yet there was a little girl cheering in the crowd. She’s excitedly pointing at Sylvie with a smile on her face, some people have started clapping with nods of approval. It’s not everyone, but just enough. For the first time in her life, she is seeing pack members looking at her in a new light. There’s a chant of her name echoing through the crowd, mostly from the neighboring packs, and the pain of loneliness stings a little less in her chest.

Braxton is standing applauding at the display he just witnessed.

“Remarkable!” Braxton claims, drawing the crowd’s attention.

“A formidable fighting spirit!” he continued, clapping eagerly with a grin. He was encouraging his pack to clap along with him, and Sylvie could see some of their reluctance.

“I agree with your call, Mr. Gaines,” Braxton says, making his way out of the spectators’ box and down towards the field. Hugo tugs Sylvie out of the ring, and she stumbles, grabbing on his side to steady herself. Hugo takes her onto the podium, meeting Braxton, who takes the microphone before Hugo has the chance.

“Bloody Dagger!” He cheers, swings his arms up to try and engage the crowd.

“What a marvelous display of true Bloody Dagger skill! Each recruit here has proved themselves worthy of being a warrior!” Braxton says, clapping again, his attempt to illicit genuine excitement is falling flat. Sylvie knows it’s because she is the victor.

“Come now, we are in the presence of very esteemed guests, guests who got to witness firsthand what Bloody Dagger recruits are made of!” Braxton continues unbothered, Sylvie’s vision is blurring as the adrenaline is wearing off. She leaned into Hugo’s side. Hugo holds her close, frowning at Braxton’s showboating.

“Now my wonderful pack mates, allow me to officially declare the winner of today’s annual assessment. Having shown the marksman of an archer, the deadeye of a shooter, and the striker of a gladiator!” Braxton says, extending a hand to Sylvie, he motions her to grab ahold of his outstretched hand and she stands straight. Hugo tightens his grip, but she pats his arm as she forces her legs to move and stands next to Braxton, whose grin at her falters at her lack of accepting his hand.

“Sylvie has all but proven herself, hasn’t she?” Braxton rested a hand against the small of Sylvie’s back, his touch lasted a heartbeat too long, and she fought the urge to recoil away. Hugo tensed going to move forward to pull the two of them apart, he takes half a step forward... then stops himself short.

“My loyal pack mates…” He pauses, casting a glance as Sylvie is using all her strength to stand and look ahead, not meeting his eye.

“I must admit that I, too, was like everyone else,” Braxton continues,

“I had a hard time accepting a wolf of rogue blood into our pack,” Braxton claims, bringing his free hand and placing it over his heart.

“There is nothing to fear. She doesn’t even have a wolf…isn’t that, right?” Braxton said, the last part low and closer to her ear, she faltered and felt Braxton’s hand begin to creep up her spine.

“Yet despite that, here she stands. Ready to fight beside us, ready to bleed for us!” Braxton shouts, his touch is slow and deliberate, causing ice to race down her spine. She cast him a sideways glance.

“I’ve already bled for you,” she thought bitterly.

“So please, let’s truly welcome and accept her as a rightful member! I, future alpha Braxton Jackson, hereby swear upon the moon goddess. That Sylvie, whose status in the pack remained that of an outsider, now stands before you as a full-fledged member. I offer her our bond and our trust, that she will uphold pack law. That she will remain steadfast and loyal to Bloody Dagger!” Braxton proclaims dramatically.

Sylvie had wanted this moment for so long. Had waited for the day she could be recognized as someone deserving of pack status. Heat flushed her cheeks as she looked across the crowd at individuals who scorned her at every turn, now nodding approvingly in her direction. She dreamed about this her entire life. For one impossible moment, she let herself believe everything had finally been worth it.

Every insult, bruise, and lonely meal, every night wondering if she would ever belong. She looked upon the pack in the crowd, she saw it. Not a look of pity or disgust, but some ounce of respect. This was her moment to shine brightly, to stand atop a stage and not have a fear of falling short.

“I also have one more announcement!” Braxton said, drawing attention back to himself. Sylvie turned to face him, forgetting momentarily who she was still standing next too.

“With this annual assessment win,” Braxton said, letting the applause continue for several more seconds. His smile widened.

“I have one more announcement. This win will also come with a new detail I’ve been working on with my father,” Braxton explained, and the words hit harder than Lawrence. The secret that had marked itself at every turn and twisted her victory into a stone in her stomach. Braxton looked down at her, meeting her eye with a devilish grin. He knew she knew.

His hand snaked its way further up her back and she went to move away; he caught her by the back of her neck, pulling her closer to his side. His other hand stretched out towards the crowd, and he looked like he was trying to show off the captivated stares he held to her.

“A new assistant detail,” Braxton continued.

“They will protect and assist me, the heir of Bloody Dagger, on ambassador trips to other packs.” Sylvie felt herself weakened at his words, but the grip Braxton had at the base of her skull tightened uncomfortably, she flinched. His grip wasn’t enough for anyone to notice; it was more than enough for her to understand. She hissed low, and his smile stretched as his eyes never left her. She tightened her fists on her side, trying to draw any remaining strength to break free.

She couldn’t though, the last taste of adrenaline all but left her system, leaving exhaustion in its place. Every muscle ached, and she could feel blood dripping from her fingertips from the gash in her arm. Braxton turned her to face the spectator’s box; she looked at the faces of the visiting dignitaries. Each look left her feeling numb, the 3 younger alphas are standing exchanging glances she can’t recognize and words she can’t hear. The Beta, Jessica, was frowning and her look held so much pity that Sylvie could feel herself on the verge of tears. The two youngest attendees in the box stood beside their brothers with questioning fear on their faces.

“Now Sylvie…”

Braxton’s smirk had overtaken his face,

“Give the crowd a bow!”