Aries' POV
The moment Phillip called the match, Lisa attacked.
She was fast—calculated, aggressive. A fighter trained in this pack's combat style, skilled in overpowering her opponents before they even had a chance to react.
But Rexxona…
She didn't get overwhelmed.
She didn't panic.
She moved.
Every dodge, every shift in her stance—it was fluid, controlled. Effortless. Like she'd done this a thousand times before.
Lisa snarled in frustration as her flurry of punches failed to connect. Adjusting her stance, she launched a spinning kick toward Rexxona's ribs—a powerful move, one that should have landed.
Instead, Rexxona twisted at the last second, letting the attack graze past her. In a seamless motion, she caught Lisa's extended leg and used her own momentum against her, forcing her off balance.
Lisa stumbled.
The crowd murmured in shock.
Lisa never stumbled.
Phillip's expression hardened, but he remained silent, watching.
Lisa growled, her face twisting with frustration. She lunged again—this time, reckless. She wasn't fighting smart anymore; she was fighting angry.
Rexxona saw it. She adjusted, shifting her weight just enough to sidestep the incoming blow. Lisa barely had time to react before Rexxona caught her wrist, twisted it, and swept her leg out from under her.
Lisa hit the ground. Hard.
A sharp gasp rippled through the crowd.
Rexxona stepped back, her breathing steady, her expression unreadable.
Lisa scrambled to her feet, eyes blazing, her body tense with fury and humiliation.
I saw it—the moment she lost control.
And Rexxona saw it too.
Lisa lunged again without thinking, and Rexxona simply sidestepped, letting her fall flat on her face.
The crowd erupted into hushed laughter, but Lisa wasn't done. She got back up and attempted the same move again.
Rexxona avoided it the exact same way.
Lisa was fighting with rage now, her moves predictable, her form sloppy. Rexxona could see that.
It was almost amusing.
She barely looked interested anymore, shifting on her feet as though the fight had already lost its meaning. And Lisa… Lisa wasn't having it.
Then, suddenly, I felt it—Lisa's energy shifting, her anger pushing past the threshold of reason.
She was about to shift.
Her wolf was taking over.
I sighed. This was a sparring match, not a battle. No one was supposed to get hurt, and I wasn't in the mood to deal with the consequences.
"Enough," I commanded, stepping forward. My voice rang through the training grounds, final and unyielding.
Lisa froze, fists clenched, breath ragged, her wolf just beneath the surface.
Phillip hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. "Match over."
Lisa's jaw tightened, but she didn't argue. She turned on her heel and stormed off, shoving past a few onlookers.
Rexxona met my gaze across the ring.
There was something in her eyes—something sharp, something dangerous.
Something controlled.
I wasn't sure if I should be impressed… or wary.
But one thing was certain.
She definitely belonged here.
As the fight ended, I watched Rexxona move toward Rose and Lily. My beta, clearly intrigued, left my side to join them.
I was about to follow when my gaze landed on Phillip.
I changed course.
Phillip might be a respected member of this pack, but that didn't give his family the right to behave however they pleased. Lisa had been reckless, and I wasn't going to stand for it. Whether it was the lingering frustration over how things played out or the fact that Rexxona could have gotten hurt, I wasn't sure. It didn't matter.
"Get your daughter under control," I said, my tone cold and unyielding. "This is a pack, not a playground for her temper tantrums."
Phillip stiffened, his jaw tightening. He bowed slightly, the action stiff with barely contained displeasure. "Understood, Alpha."
I didn't care if he liked it or not. The message was clear.
As he turned and walked away, I exhaled, my eyes drifting back to Rexxona.
I didn't know why I cared.
But I did.
And I needed to find out why.
Elsewhere…
Deep in the forest, hidden from the eyes of the pack, a different kind of training was taking place.
A group of men crouched low behind thick undergrowth, watching the distant lights of the pack's territory. They moved with precision, their weapons carefully concealed beneath their cloaks.
Each one carried the scent of silver and death.
"That's the main training ground," a man with a scar running down his jaw whispered. "They're distracted."
His leader, a tall man with cold blue eyes, nodded. His voice was calm, but there was something chilling in its finality.
"Perfect." He paused, his gaze locked on the unsuspecting pack. "We wait until their guard is down. Then we strike."
The night swallowed his words.
And the hunt began.