Chapter 37

Raven

As the victor challenged Neil, the whole village square seemed to freeze. Conversations dropped off, laughter died down, and suddenly, all eyes turned to Neil, who was still standing quietly beside me.

His expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his gaze. I couldn’t tell if he was intrigued by the challenge or trying to decide if it was ‘princely’ for him to fight another man, shirtless, at a village feast.

I honestly didn’t think he would go through with it. Was he even allowed to participate in such a fight? It seemed beneath him to even entertain the idea of brawling in front of a crowd.

And yet, the idea of seeing him fight, really fight, made my wolf perk up with a curious excitement. If he refused, I couldn’t say I wouldn’t be disappointed.

But instead of turning down the fight, he reached down, grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt, and, in one smooth motion, pulled it over his head.

My breath caught.

A ripple went through the crowd, a murmur of appreciation—and, in some cases, flat-out ogling. I couldn’t even blame them. Beneath the flickering torchlight, Neil’s muscles looked like they had been carved from stone. His skin was marred by scars that I hadn’t noticed before, pale streaks and deeper, jagged ones across his chest and shoulders from past battles.

He looked like a warrior from some ancient myth, fierce and untouchable. Except he wasn’t a myth. He was real. And somehow, he was my mate.

My mate.

The crowd parted to make way for him, cheers and the banging of mugs against tables rising into the air, as Neil stepped forward, nodding to his challenger.

His challenger was a large Lycan with a broken nose and a scar across his jaw, and he grinned like a wolf at the sight of the Lycan Prince accepting his challenge. Not fearful, even though Neil was larger than him, just… thrilled. And flattered.

They squared off in the circle, neither one moving yet, just reading each other. The crowd was silent and tense, no one making a move or a sound just yet. Beside me, I felt Ember tense up—but when I looked at her, she was grinning from ear to ear, her cheeks flushed from a combination of the alcohol and the sight of Neil’s shirtless torso.

Then, suddenly, the fighters were moving, lunging at each other with a sort of speed and power that I never expected. I barely saw the first punch—it was too quick, nothing more than a flash of Neil’s fist meeting the challenger’s jaw.

I felt a shiver run through me at the sight. But it was a shiver of excitement, not fear.

The crowd erupted into cheers, even more of a cacophony than last time. Men howled and banged their mugs, women shrieked and jumped up and down. I felt so caught up in it that I think I let out a howl or two myself.

The other man staggered back, narrowly avoiding a punch, his grin widening even as blood dripped from his lip. He recovered and threw a powerful punch aimed at Neil’s ribs, but Neil twisted out of the way with ease.

I was watching Neil’s every move, and so was my wolf, bristling with excitement. The way his muscles flexed under his skin as he blocked a wild punch and countered with a brutal uppercut, landing it square on his opponent’s chin … The way his torso twisted and dipped… The way his black hair came loose from its bun, cascading around his shoulders…

I felt like I was in heat just at the sight of him.

Neil ducked under a wide swing, then came back up with a punishing elbow strike that had his opponent grunting in pain. The crowd was roaring by now, cheers and shouts drowning out everything else.

Then came a shrill, high-pitched voice from somewhere nearby: “You’ve got him, Neil! Show him who’s boss!”

I cringed. Of course, it was Hannah.

Ember rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might pop out of her head. “And there she is. Can’t miss a chance to dance with the prince.”

My eyebrows shot up. I wasn’t sure if I’d heard Ember correctly amongst all the noise. “Dance?” I asked.

Ember gestured toward the ring, where Neil and his opponent were still sparring relentlessly. “In Lycan tradition, the ultimate victor of fights like these will choose whoever cheered the loudest to dance with after the fight… and maybe even take home.” Ember’s lip curled a little at that last bit.

Everything seemed to make sense just then. No wonder all of the women were screaming their lungs out—they wanted a chance at a night with the victor. And Hannah was among them.

Suddenly, I had an idea.

I let out an ear-splitting shriek. So loud, in fact, that it hurt my throat and made Eric cover his ears beside me.

Ember whipped her head toward me, eyes wide. I just grinned at her, cupped my hands around my mouth, and howled again.

“What are you—”

“Follow my lead,” I said, flicking my eyes toward Hannah, who was gawking at me with a rapidly-reddening face. “You want to knock her down a peg, don’t you?”

Ember blinked at me for a moment, stunned, but quickly seemed to catch on. Her mouth tugged up a little at the corners, vindictive glee crossing her face. She cupped her hands and howled toward the ring, jumping up on her toes.

Hannah shot us a sharp glare, her mouth twisting angrily, as she realized what we were doing. She loosed another cheer of her own, but it was nothing compared to the chest-pounding scream that Ember and I let out at the same time.

The look on Hannah’s face was priceless. She glared at us out of the corners of her eyes as the fight went on, clearly irritated.

But Ember and I were relentless. No matter how hard she screamed, we were practically drowning her out the entire time, and with each passing minute, Hannah’s scowl deepened.

Beside me, Eric and Castor were both trying to hide their amusement. Castor raised an eyebrow at Ember. “I didn’t take you as the type to join in on this nonsense.”

Ember shrugged, looking suspiciously pleased with herself. “There must be a lot you don’t know about me then, friend.”

Neil didn’t seem to notice the war of voices going on outside the ring. He was fully focused, his eyes fixed on his opponent as they traded punches. I felt my heart race as he dodged an uppercut, but just barely.

Then, Neil threw a powerful punch that connected with his challenger’s jaw. The guy’s head snapped back, his balance faltering.

Neil didn’t give him a second to recover. He moved in close, landing a rapid series of blows so fast I could hardly see his fists. The crowd was going wild, chanting and cheering, Ember and I the loudest among them.

I spared one last glance at Hannah, who had stopped shouting altogether. Her eyes were fixed on me, her mouth working back and forth in a scowl. Her fingers twitched toward her thigh, toward the knife that she no doubt kept concealed beneath her skirt.

But ultimately, she stomped away and retreated to a far-off bench. She plopped down there and pouted, arms folded, and snarled at a nearby male who tried to saunter up to her.

I looked over at Ember, grinning, and to my surprise, she was smiling back. A genuine smile, one that softened her usually guarded expression. She gave me a small nod, as if to say, “Nicely done.”

In the ring, Neil landed one final punch that sent his opponent to the ground. There was a brief silence, everyone holding their breath—and then his opponent tapped the dirt with his palm, calling it quits.

The crowd roared, the villagers clapping and stomping. His opponent stayed down, panting heavily, clearly done for the night. No one else dared step forward to challenge Neil. He had proven himself the ultimate victor.

He straightened, his chest heaving, his gaze scanning the crowd as the cheers continued. And then, slowly, his eyes landed on me.

I felt my heart skip a beat as he stepped forward, the cheers fading to a murmur. He reached out, offering me his hand.

“Serena… Will you dance with me?”