Rejected by the Ruthless Alpha : The Girl They Promised to Hell

CHAPTER ELEVEN: TRAILS

Lila POV

A warm breeze drifts over me and drags my hair across my face. I brush the strands back and tuck the now-dyed lock behind my ear. I’m so used to seeing the white streak in the corner of my eye; it’s strange to lose that part of my identity. But if I want to survive in this world, sacrifices must be made.

I lean against the wall surrounding the city and stare up at the burning tree in the near distance.

“So… how do we get to the trials?” I ask, glancing at Caleb sitting on the edge of the wall.

“You really are new here, huh?”

He twirls a dagger between his fingers, grinning at me.

“The roots of the tree are made up of magical ley lines. See that portal at the hollow?”

He points the tip of the blade toward the archway carved into the tree; the portal glows with sapphire light.

“You step into it and think about where you wanna go, then voilà—you’re there.”

“That’s pretty neat,” I admit, pushing off the wall. “Then we should get going. How do I look?”

He gives me a slow once-over, taking in my tight black bodysuit and knee-high combat boots that “some” woman left at his place after a one-night stand. I guess I should be lucky they fit. Despite the way it clings to my body, it’s extremely flexible and frames my figure perfectly.

“Like a Stormfire.”

I nod. “Good. Now let’s go kick some ass.”

With a shake of his head, Caleb jumps down from the wall, and we make our way toward the tree. To my relief, no one pays us any attention as we stroll through the bustling Inner City. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve learned that this is the main gathering point in Hell. Hell itself is split into several different realms, and the closer you get to the Fire Realm, the lower your chances of survival—few people who go there ever come back.

It’s where Rizor and his pack guard the gates.

An icy chill runs down my spine at the thought of him. I lift my gaze from the ash-covered ground. The shadow of the tree stretches over me, merging with the burning leaves that flutter through the air. Men, women, and shifters alike move to and from the portal. We join the queue.

When it’s our turn, Caleb turns to me and holds out his hand.

“Ready, songbird?”

I take a deep breath and nod. He takes my hand in his, and together we step into the light.

“The Realm of DHT,” Caleb says loudly.

DHT—Demon Hunting Trials. I like it.

Magic wraps around us. It caresses and licks every inch of my skin. The light fades from sapphire into a deep, mossy green, and the most beautiful building rises before me. It’s more like a palace than anything I’ve ever seen, towering up into the tree above it. Several buildings surround a courtyard we walk through, past lines of wolves who glance our way. Green plants fill the space, with small lights glowing in the darker corners and along the pillars marking the entrance.

Caleb moves confidently through the entrance. I follow him through the foyer and into another hall, where a grim-faced male in a green robe waits. He stands on a podium as a magical quill scribbles across an old-looking book.

“Name,” the male says when we stop in front of him, not even glancing up.

Caleb steps forward. “Caleb Hardling.”

The male checks the book, then looks down at him. A derisive smile curls his thin lips.

“Ah, I wondered when you’d show your face. Third time’s a charm, eh?”

The marks on Caleb’s face glow faintly, and he clenches his jaw but says nothing.

After a moment, the quill scribbles across the parchment, and the male nods for Caleb to pass through the arch behind him.

Sharp yellow eyes lock onto me next.

“Name.”

I part my lips to say Lila, but quickly stop myself.

“Ava Foster.”

Silence stretches. My heart pounds as he scans the book. In the corner of my eye, I see Caleb watching too, his hand drifting toward the dagger at his hip. Ava was the name of a girl who went missing from Caeli when I was young—it was the first name that came to mind.

The male finally looks up.

“Go on, then.”

He snaps his fingers for the next person.

I release a breath and follow Caleb through the double doors.

We enter a courtyard surrounded by granite archways and ivy-wrapped pillars. Grass covers the ground, and at the far end, a tall male slouches on a throne, drumming his fingers lazily against the armrest. He stifles a yawn with a ringed hand before waving a group of applicants away. Each of them looks devastated as they collect their weapons and leave.

“Word of advice?” Caleb whispers as we walk. “Don’t be yourself, songbird.”

I chuckle under my breath.

As if I’d do that in front of Prince Levi—Rizor’s son. I’ve always found it strange how in every other pack, the alpha’s sons are just that. But in Stormfire, the alpha’s son is known as the prince and heir because his father rules like a king. No one questions their authority—unless they want to lose their heads.

An armoured guard steps out from beneath one of the archways and orders me to stay back when Caleb approaches the throne. I obey, watching as Caleb and the prince exchange a familiar greeting—a handshake, a pat on the back. They must be friends. For some reason, it eases my anxiety slightly.

If I mess this up, maybe Caleb can put in a good word for me. That does mean I’ll owe him again, though.

While Caleb explains why he wants to enter the trials again I take the chance to study the male before him. He’s taller than Caleb, who’s already over six feet. A high-necked tunic frames his muscular torso, bright gold outlined in dark green. His trousers and boots match the green, while a silver band threads through his short, dirty-blond hair, matching the strange necklace around his neck.