BLOOD MOON

Chapter 18

Haliya

What happened earlier haunted me. I never expected to lose my cool in the ring and I never expected I could actually win that fight.

As much as I want the attention, as much as I want to prove myself strong, I shouldn’t. I’m not a man, and in this pack, she-wolves are treated as domestic, not the kind who train in the fields. The more eyes I draw, the greater the risk of someone finding out I’m lying.

“Mira, has the Alpha ever left the High Hall?” I asked, still uneasy.

They said the Alpha would personally choose a top warrior. But how?

“Never, not for years,” Mira replied. “We haven’t seen him since the Luna’s death. But I’ve heard he’ll be the one to choose the towa this Saturday.”

“Towa?” I echoed.

“It’s like a top warrior,” she explained, “someone meant to take on hidden missions.”

Hidden missions?

The word snagged on something deep in my chest. My mind immediately spun with possibilities... missions that no one spoke of, things buried away from the public eye. Could one of those “missions” have been what happened to my pack? Could my parents have been caught in the middle of one?

I clenched my fists at my sides. If the Alpha himself chose the towa, then maybe that was my way in. Maybe through it, I’d finally be close enough to catch a glimpse of the truth.

But then again, hidden missions also meant danger. They weren’t given to the weak or the untested. If I aimed for it, I’d be stepping into a spotlight I wasn’t sure I could survive. And worse… if they discovered I wasn’t who I claimed to be, I wouldn’t just fail my search. I’d die for it.

Still, the thought of finding my parents or at least uncovering what really happened to them was a weight I couldn’t ignore. Maybe being chosen as towa was my only chance.

"Is this the first time the Alpha has chosen a towa?" I asked.

Mira shook her head. "No. The last one he picked was five years ago… but he failed his mission."

"Who?" The question slipped out before I could stop myself.

Her eyes snapped to mine, sharp and searching, as if my curiosity had crossed a line. For a moment, I felt the air thicken between us.

I forced a quick smile and lifted my shoulders in a casual shrug. "I’m just curious, that’s all."

"I can't tell that to outsiders," she said plainly, then went back to her work.

Right. Outsider. I almost forgot.

I nodded and let it drop, though my mind refused to. How did the towa fail his mission? And what kind of mission could it have been? If, out of a hundred warriors, the Alpha chose me… what fate would I be walking into?

Would refusing even be an option?

No. Not for me.

If I had already taken the risk of pretending to be a new recruit, then I might as well see it through to the very end. Playing it safe wouldn’t give me answers, wouldn’t give me freedom. If I wanted to uncover the truth about my pack, about my parents, then I had to risk it all. Being chosen as towa might be dangerous, but it was the only chance I had to dig deeper.

So, I made my choice. I would stand out. I would fight. I would be chosen.

Saturday came, the air thick with anticipation. The training yard was packed, warriors and recruits gathered in tense silence as the head warrior barked for order. Today, the Alpha would choose his towa.

The crowd shifted suddenly. Whispers rose, all eyes turning toward the High Hall gates.

The heirs had arrived.

I recognized Cullen immediately —commanding and sharp-eyed, his presence drawing quiet respect from every warrior. At his side was Amara, her gaze cold but poised, the kind of elegance that still carried steel.

Then came the two I didn’t know well: Samuel and Jackson. Their features bore the Alpha’s mark of strength, though each carried it differently. Then, the Alpha. I waited for someone to appear but there was no sign of him.

Kieran wasn’t there.

The Alpha’s son I thought I knew best, the one I expected to stand with them... missing. Not named among the heirs for this duel. A ripple of unease passed through me. Where is he?

The head warrior’s voice thundered. “Today, you will prove your worth not just among yourselves but against the Alpha’s blood.”

A murmur broke out, recruits exchanging nervous glances. Fighting each other was one thing. Facing Cullen, Amara, Samuel, or Jackson—heirs trained since birth—was a trial few could survive.

My chest tightened. This wasn’t a test. This was a crucible. And if I wanted to be chosen towa… I had to endure it.

The training yard was restless, whispers darting through the ranks as the heirs stepped forward. My palms were damp, and I forced myself to stand still, to breathe evenly, though my chest felt like it was caving in.

“Damn,” one warrior muttered low behind me, “of all days for the heirs to show up…”

“Means this won’t be a simple test,” another replied grimly. “They’ll want to see blood.”

A few recruits shuffled, earning a sharp bark from the head warrior. “Still your feet, unless you want to be cut down before the fight even starts!”

The air tightened again. I dared a glance only to see Cullen surveying us. His gaze was razor-sharp, unflinching, like he was peeling away masks with nothing but a stare. My throat went dry. Will I get busted?

Beside him, Amara’s presence was like fire. She didn’t scan us the way Cullen did, she studied us like prey, weighing which throat would be most satisfying to tear open first. Her eyes swept dangerously close to mine. For a heartbeat, I forgot to breathe.

“Easy,” I murmured to myself, ducking my chin lower. My reflection today was nothing like the girl they had once known. Rugged clothes, dirt on my face, hair tangled and tucked under a hood. I could pass as just another nameless recruit. Maybe, just maybe, it was enough.

“Think they’ll pick from us first?” a recruit whispered nervously to his friend.

“Pray they don’t,” the friend shot back.

I kept my eyes down, my jaw tight, though my heart hammered so loud it drowned their voices. Out of all the dangers I had prepared for, facing them again was not the one I wanted.

And yet here I was, standing in the line, daring fate to notice me.

The silence broke when the head warrior barked, “Step forward, heirs. The recruits await your judgment.”

Cullen moved first. He didn’t hesitate, his gaze slicing through the line of warriors like a blade. He carried himself with a calm authority with his hands clasped behind his back.

Amara followed, her lips curved in something between a smirk and a sneer. She walked like she owned the yard, her eyes flicked from face to face, and more than one recruit broke their stance, shrinking under the weight of her scrutiny.

My chest tightened. Their steps were slow but inevitable, drawing closer to where I stood. If either of them stared too long, if they caught a flicker of recognition everything would unravel.

“Scared?” a recruit near me whispered, barely moving his lips.

“Only an i***t wouldn’t be,” another muttered.

A whisper like laugh followed from further down the line. “If you’re shaking already, wait until you’re called. That’s when you’ll piss yourself.”

A hush fell as Cullen’s voice cut through the noise. Low, even, but carrying across the yard. “You.” He pointed at a broad-shouldered warrior. “Step out.”

The chosen man exhaled shakily and moved forward.

Amara’s turn. Her gaze swept the line again, and I instinctively dropped my chin lower, praying the shadows of my hood and dirt smeared across my skin would be enough. For a heartbeat, her eyes brushed past me then slid away. My lungs burned from holding my breath.

“You,” she finally declared, pointing to a lean recruit three places down. The poor man stiffened, but obeyed.

One by one, they chose more. Warriors stepped forward, nerves thick in the air. Every time Cullen’s cold eyes passed me, I thought my disguise would crack. Every time Amara’s gaze grazed me, my skin crawled with the certainty she’d seen through the dirt and rags to the girl beneath.

And then Cullen paused directly in front of me. His stare was unblinking, sharp as a blade. My heart stuttered painfully.

Was this it? Recognition? Exposure?