Keira's POV
"You're pulling your punches," Theron said, circling me in the training ring. "Stop thinking and just move."
I was thinking too much. That was the problem. Three years of hiding my strength, three years of pretending to be weak—it had become habit.
"Again!" Theron lunged.
I dodged, but barely. My body remembered the training my father gave me, but my instincts were rusty.
"Pathetic." Dante's voice came from where he leaned against the wall, watching. "Marcus will tear her apart in seconds if that's the best she's got."
Rage flashed through me. "I'd like to see you do better after three years of wolfsbane poisoning!"
"Excuses." Dante pushed off the wall. "You're a True Alpha, supposedly. Act like it."
"I am acting like it!"
"No, you're acting like a scared servant pretending to be an Alpha." His words hit like physical blows. "Helena broke you. Maybe Marcus already won before the fight even starts."
Something inside me snapped.
"ENOUGH!" The word came out with power I didn't know I possessed. Alpha Voice—pure dominance made sound.
Dante's eyes went wide. Then his knees buckled and he hit the ground hard, forced down by the sheer weight of my command.
The training room went absolutely silent.
I stared at my hands, shocked. I hadn't meant to use Alpha Voice. Hadn't even known I could anymore. But the power had burst from me like water from a broken dam.
"What—" Dante gasped from the floor, "—the actual hell was that?"
"That," Theron said softly, a strange smile on his face, "was a True Alpha showing her real strength. Finally."
Other pack members who'd been training nearby had stopped to stare. I felt their shock, their sudden wariness. Some even backed away slightly.
I'd scared them. Me—the refugee who'd arrived three days ago looking half-dead.
"I'm sorry," I started toward Dante. "I didn't mean—"
"Don't apologize." Theron caught my arm. "You just proved something important. The wolfsbane suppressed your power, but it didn't destroy it. Your True Alpha abilities are still there. Stronger than ever, actually."
Dante climbed to his feet, rubbing his knees. "Stronger is an understatement. I've only ever felt Alpha Voice that powerful from one other wolf." He looked at Theron. "You."
The pack members were whispering now. I caught fragments:
"—did you see that—"
"—brought Dante down without even trying—"
"—no wonder Helena wanted her dead—"
"I need air," I said suddenly, the walls feeling too close. "I need to get out of here."
"Keira—" Theron reached for me.
But I was already moving, pushing through the training room door into the corridor beyond. My heart hammered. My skin felt too tight. Inside me, my wolf was pushing, pushing, pushing—
She wanted out.
For three years, I'd kept her buried under layers of wolfsbane and fear. Now, with the poison finally gone, she was demanding her freedom.
I stumbled into the nearest empty room—some kind of storage area—and slammed the door behind me. My hands shook. My vision blurred.
Not now. Please not now. I'm not ready—
But my wolf didn't care about ready. She'd been caged for three years while I played weak. Now she wanted to show everyone exactly what we were.
The shift started before I could stop it.
Pain—but not the bad kind. The kind that meant breaking free, becoming whole again. My bones began to crack and reform. Fur sprouted across my skin.
The door burst open. Theron stood there, his eyes wide. "Keira, wait—you can't shift here, the space is too small—"
Too late.
The shift completed in a rush of power and pain. Where a woman had stood, a massive white wolf now filled the storage room.
And I mean massive. Easily the size of a small horse. My head nearly brushed the ceiling.
Through my wolf's eyes, I saw Theron's expression shift from concern to pure shock.
"Moon Goddess," he breathed. "You're... you're bigger than me."
That shouldn't be possible. Male Alphas were always larger than females. It was just how it worked.
Except apparently not with True Alphas.
I tried to move, but my huge body knocked over shelves. Supplies crashed to the floor. The room really was too small.
Outside, my wolf demanded. Need to run. Need space. Need to be FREE.
I pushed past Theron into the corridor. Pack members scattered as I thundered past, this massive white wolf tearing through the palace like a storm.
"Someone open the exterior doors!" Theron's voice commanded behind me. "Now!"
Doors flew open ahead. I burst into the courtyard, then beyond into the forest surrounding the palace. Finally—finally—I had room to move.
I ran. Faster than I'd run in years. My powerful legs ate up ground, my massive paws barely touching earth before launching me forward again. Trees blurred past. The wind sang in my fur.
This was what I'd been missing. This freedom. This power.
Behind me, I heard another wolf's howl. Theron had shifted to follow me.
His black wolf was huge and intimidating—an Alpha King in every way. But when he caught up to me, I realized with shock that I was larger. Not by much, but enough that even he had to look up slightly to meet my eyes.
We stared at each other, two True Alphas in the moonlight. Through our bond, I felt his amazement, his pride, and underneath it—something primal and possessive that made my wolf's heart race.
Mine, his wolf rumbled. My mate. My equal.
Yours, my wolf agreed before I could stop her. But you are also mine.
More wolves appeared through the trees. Aria's silver wolf, Dante's massive black form, and a dozen other pack members—all coming to see the True Alpha who'd hidden her power for so long.
I stood tall, letting them look. Letting them see exactly what Helena and Marcus had tried to destroy.
A True Alpha in her prime. Massive. Powerful. Unbroken.
Then something changed in the air. A scent that made my wolf snarl with instinctive warning.
Danger. Threat. ENEMY.
Theron's wolf stepped in front of me protectively, but I pushed past him. This threat was meant for me.
A grey wolf emerged from the shadows. Smaller than me or Theron, but radiating menace. In his jaws, he carried something that made my heart stop—
A white cloth stained with blood. My blood, from when I'd been injured during the escape from Silverpine.
Helena's messenger. Here to deliver a message.
The grey wolf dropped the cloth and shifted. A scarred man with cold eyes stood before us.
"Message from Luna Helena," he said, his voice carrying across the clearing. "She's changed her mind about the trial by combat."
Relief started to fill me—maybe she'd withdrawn the charges—
"The fight happens tomorrow at dawn instead of three days from now," the messenger continued. "Helena claims waiting gives Shadowcrest too much time to cheat or interfere. The Council has agreed. You have twelve hours to report to the neutral grounds, or you'll be declared guilty by default."
The world tilted.
Twelve hours. Not three days. Twelve. Hours.
"That's not legal!" Dante shifted back to human form. "She can't just change the timeline—"
"She can if she has majority Council vote. Which she does." The messenger smiled coldly. "Luna Helena was very persuasive. She convinced them that every day the trial is delayed gives Shadowcrest more chance to manipulate the outcome."
Theron shifted beside me, fury radiating from every pore. "This is insane. Keira needs time to prepare—"
"Keira needs to prove her innocence or die trying." The messenger's gaze found my massive white wolf. "Though I'll admit, seeing you like this... maybe you actually have a chance against Marcus. Helena will be disappointed."
She planned this, I realized with cold certainty. She heard about my power emerging and moved the timeline up before I could train properly.
"Twelve hours," the messenger repeated. "Dawn at the neutral grounds. Marcus will be waiting." He shifted back to wolf form and melted into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as he'd come.
Silence fell over the clearing.
I shifted back to human form, not caring that I was naked in front of Theron's entire pack. There wasn't time for modesty.
"Twelve hours," I said, my voice steady despite the terror trying to claw its way up my throat. "Can we work with that?"
"We'll have to." Theron was already thinking, I could see it in his eyes. "We train through the night. No sleep. Every combat technique I know, compressed into twelve hours."
"She'll be exhausted before the fight even starts," Dante protested.
"Better exhausted and trained than rested and unprepared." I met Theron's gaze. "What do I need to learn first?"
"How to kill quickly." His expression was grim. "Marcus is a brutal fighter. He'll try to drag the combat out, make you suffer. You need to end it fast—one strike, one kill, before he has time to use his strength advantage."
"Then teach me."
"Keira—" Aria stepped forward, concern in her eyes. "You just shifted for the first time in years. Your wolf needs time to adjust, to build stamina. Fighting this soon after awakening your full power, it's—"
"Suicide," I finished. "I know. But what choice do I have? Run and look guilty? Refuse and be executed? This is the only option."
Through our bond, I felt Theron's anguish. He wanted to protect me, to fight for me, but the trial rules were absolute—I had to face Marcus alone.
"Twelve hours," he said finally. "Then we make them count. Dante, clear the main training arena. Aria, get the combat dummies set up. Everyone else—" he addressed his pack, "—I need absolute privacy. No interruptions. No witnesses. If the traitor reports what we're doing to Helena, I'll kill them myself."
The pack members scattered to follow orders.
Theron turned to me. "Go eat. As much as you can stomach. You'll need every ounce of energy."
"I'm not hungry—"
"That wasn't a suggestion." His Alpha Voice brooked no argument. "Eat, then meet me in the arena in thirty minutes. We have a long night ahead of us, and at the end of it, you're either going to be ready to kill Marcus Crane..."
"Or?" I prompted.
His expression turned fierce. "Or I'm breaking every law and fighting him myself, Council be damned. Because I'm not watching my mate die. Not for politics. Not for justice. Not for anything."
The raw emotion in his voice—the crack in his cold king facade—made my chest ache.
"I won't die tomorrow," I promised. "I'm going to win. Then I'm going to make Helena watch as I take back everything she stole."
"Good." He pulled me close, his forehead touching mine. "Because I've waited fourteen years for revenge. I'm not letting it slip away now."
As we stood there, connected by the mate bond and shared determination, I felt my wolf settle into certainty.
Tomorrow at dawn, I would face Marcus.
One of us would die.
And I was going to make damn sure it wasn't me.
Even if I had to learn how to be a killer in twelve hours.
Even if I had to fight exhausted and unprepared.
Even if the odds were stacked impossibly against me.
Because I wasn't just fighting for my innocence anymore.
I was fighting for my throne. My pack. My future.
And nothing—not Helena, not Marcus, not even my own fear—was going to stop me from claiming what was mine.
The training began at midnight.
By dawn, I'd either be a queen.
Or I'd be dead.