⚠️⚠️ Warning ⚠️ ⚠️
This story contains violence, intense combat, and themes of revenge. Reader discretion is advised.
[LYRA POV ]
As if thrust backwards, I found myself in a fighting arena. The place too familiar to be mistaken, a chilly echo of the nightmare I couldn't quite recall.
It wasn't until the deafening cheers filled my ears and the pain from my lower limb gnawing at me like a ravenous beast, sinking its fangs deeper with every breast that the full weight of the situation dawned on me.
I wasn't just inside the ring, I was on the ground, waiting for my opponent to strike.
How? Wasn't I dead?
Why did it feel like the incident from three months ago was happening all over again?
Lifting my gaze, I met the cold, merciless eyes of Thane. A hulking shifter, standing just a few feet away from me. His eyes flashed with aggression, his muscles coiled with raw power, his nose flaring, and I could smell the acrid scent of anger and hatred that rolled off him in waves.
I watched as he closed in, his every step deliberate, his movements calculated. His bulging veins tensing and relaxing from the cheers of the pack members.
I should be able to handle this. I always do. And this time, I won't let my own stupidity lead me astray.
Finally, he loomed over me, his intention clear—to pin me down. But I was ready.
With a swift and powerful bone-rattling punch, I struck his jaw. A sickening crack echoed through the arena as Thane staggered backwards with a yelp, holding his jaw as he grunt.
He thought he could pin me down? Jokes on him.
Now it was my turn. I launched myself into the air, executing a flawless flip over his head. As I landed, I transitioned smoothly into a split, using the momentum to fuel a swift kick against his ribs that sent him crashing to the ground.
I didn't give him time to recover. Nah, not a chance.
My movements were like that of a flash, blurry and fast as I unleashed a flurry of punches and kicks, each strike landing with precision and unrelenting force.
I pinned him down, knees digging into his chest, my arms locking around his throat in a tight armbar.
Thane thrashed, clawing, gasping. He struggled in all the attempts to break free, but I held firm, my muscles pulsing with veins.
With a growl, I transitioned into a mounted position, raining down punch after punch, elbow after elbow, and fists that left Thane's face battered and bruised.
Blood smeared my knuckles, his face twisted with pain, his struggles weakening.
When he couldn't take it any longer, his frantic hand slapped the ground.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Surrender.
Their cheers flattered as the arena fell silent.
I smirked as I rose, carrying myself with grace that I didn't know existed during this time three months ago.
My eyes locked on Thane's beaten, disheveled form as he writhed on the dirt from his own blood.
My breath hitched, my heart pounding against my ribs like a trapped bird. I could feel the residual tremors of the fight still shaking my hands, a wild energy thrumming beneath my skin.
I made my way to his side while he dragged his body backwards in defeat.
Where was his confidence now? His arrogance? His steeze and composure?
Yes, I can vividly remember his decent words and his Almighty attitude.
Few minutes ago.
Thane entered the arena with a swagger, a confident smirk playing on his lips. He acknowledged the cheers of the crowd with a casual nod, his eyes scanning the arena, landing on me with a dismissive glance.
Before the fight, Thane had sneered at me, his voice dripping with arrogance. "You think you can stand against me, little runt? You're barely even a wolf yet."
Who's the little runt now? Who's groaning in pain like some whipped dog?
I stalked forward.
Bending down, I gripped his neck, lifting him effortlessly before slamming him hard against the ground. My fingers tightened around his throat
Bending down, I gripped him by his neck, my hands circling around his throat in a firm grasp as I lifted him effortlessly with one hand before slamming him hard against the ground. My hold on Thane's throat tightened.
"While inside the ring, do not judge someone with appearance." I hissed, my fingers digging deep into his throat.
"It's a pity that you don't have the guts to back up that big mouth of yours." I loosened my grip slightly, just enough to let him know I could end it here, but wouldn't...not yet.
His pulse fluttered beneath my fingers, I watched as his eyes widened in pure terror, fueling my adrenaline.
Did he forget the rule?
Only one survives!
And the survivor would represent the pack in the upcoming fight.
A hush fell over the arena as the gathered pack members stood frozen, their breaths held, their hands twitching at their sides.
Some shifted on their feet, eyes glinting like predators watching the final moments of a hunt. But their faces portrayed an emotion I recognized all too well.
Fear.
They never thought I'd win. They never believed I could defeat Thane, an A-level werewolf, the highest rank in our pack's hierarchy. But here he is, his blood splattered on the arena ground.
Then—whispers, low murmurs rippled through the crowd, laced with shock and disgust. Some voices didn't escape my ears.
"She beat Thane to a pulp. An A-level shifter. I wonder what she's made of."
"No way. She must have cheated. There's no way a low-rank like her could take him down. And that too, someone that hasn't even shifted yet."
Yes. Three months. Only three months remained until my birthday, my first shift. The only months left for my death.
"Tch. She got lucky. That's all it is. Next time, she won't stand a chance against Alpha Thane."
Their words sliced through me like a blade, sharp and merciless.
They still wouldn't accept it. Even when Thane is groaning on the ground, bruised and bloodied.
I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening on Thane's throat as his pulse fluttered beneath my finger.
The whispers of doubt and disgust faded into the background. They would learn. They would all learn. The hard way. I would make sure of that.
The feeling pulling at my heart wasn't what I thought it would be. Why wasn't I sad like before? Why is it that all I feel was….hatred and the thirst for revenge?
Hatred. Revenge. These were the only words that mattered now.