Velvet Grayfang
~~~
Blood dripped from my knuckles, soaking into the cracked stone beneath me.
The male at my feet groaned, barely conscious. His body twisted, his pride shattered.
He wasn't the first I'd fought today—just the last. My victory should have been enough.
It wasn't.
No one bowed. Not even the ones who had voted for the Rite of Challenge in the first place. They demanded I prove myself through blood combat... but when I gave it my all, they turned to stone.
I lifted my chin, breathing hard.
My gaze swept across the open arena—circled in wide stone, roofless to the sky.
Moonlight poured in from above, casting silver over the watching crowd.
Their eyes fixed on me with a sneer.
My fingers curled tight around the blade, still warm in my grip. If they expected me to shake, they'd be waiting forever.
Someone coughed. Another cleared his throat. Still, no one moved.
At the edge of the circle, Elder Harren rose slowly, his robe dragging as if the air itself weighed more than usual.
"Velvet Grayfang," he said, the name falling heavy and sharp. "You have bested all who stood against you."
His eyes flicked to the broken, bleeding man still moaning at my feet, then back to me.
"And yet, the mark of the Alpha does not sit lightly on a woman's shoulder."
A ripple spread through the open arena—low murmurs, some disapproval, some amusement.
I swallowed. Don't flinch. Don't blink. Don't give them more reason to doubt.
"I did not fight with my shoulders," I said quietly. "I fought with my blade. With my teeth."
"And a woman's teeth," Harren replied smoothly, "were meant for kisses, not command."
My blood ran hot. My fist tightened around the blade.
They think I was born wrong—that the moon made a mistake the day it chose a daughter over a son.
They don't know what it cost me to stand here. To survive the fire in my blood that burned my mother alive the day I was born.
To grow up among men who trained me harder than any wolf—because they prayed I'd break and prove them right.
But I didn't break.
I learned to bleed quietly. To bear bruises every single day with my chin held high.
Because if I showed weakness, they'd call it proof. If I showed strength, they'd call it rebellion.
So it became both.
I don't know when I stopped being a girl and became something else—a warning, a prophecy.
I looked down at the blood on my hands, my reflection staring back from the crimson smear on the stone.
My hair was long, pulled back, dark as raven feathers. Some strand clung to my jaw, damp with sweat. My grey eyes looked hollow. There were scars across my arms—some fresh, all earned.
They said no woman had ever ruled because our bodies were too soft, our hearts too wild. But my body was honed in pain. And my heart? It didn't beat for love. It beat for vengeance.
A familiar voice stepped forward from the crowd.
"Velvet," Elias murmured—my Beta, my only friend. My constant since the day my father died. The only one who stood besides me against all odds.
"They need time. They'll come around. But right now… you need to name someone."
"Someone?" My eyes darkened.
"A shield. A protector. Just for now. Until the fire awakens."
My jaw locked.
He was right. And I hated that he was. Because I knew what they whispered behind my back:
"Her wolf is asleep."
"Her father's blood died with him."
"She can't be our Alpha. She is no Alpha, only a girl with a title."
They didn't see the way my wolf stirred at night, the way it paced in my chest, the way it clawed at me from the inside out, aching to rise, but something always pulled it back.
I was close. I could feel it. The spark was there. But it hadn't ignited.
And without that fire, they would never kneel. Not even with every challenger lying in blood at my feet.
I took one slow breath and raised my head to Elder Harren.
Good thing my voice didn't shake—and I could look at him without faltering, "I need no man to speak for me."
Silence followed.
"Then you need one to stand beside you," Harren said coldly, "or you may soon find yourself standing alone, with no pack to rule."
I opened my mouth to reply.....
But then the giant doors opened.
They didn't creak. They didn't groan.
They cracked—ironwood splitting the hush in two like a blade. And the wind that blew in smelled of smoke, frost… and something old.
I blinked, turning toward the door and my heart skipped.
He stepped into the hall like he'd owned it in another life—like the walls had been waiting for him.
Tall, broad, and dark. His tunic hung open, revealing smooth muscle—chest and abs carved like stone. His eyes glowed with the soft gold of dusk.
My breath caught. And my wolf—silent for days—growled from deep within me.
Who is this?
The man didn't bow.
He didn't greet the Elders, didn't glance at the murmuring crowd. He didn't follow custom.
His gaze was locked on me.
He crossed the stone floor slowly.
And for the first time… the hall felt full of Alphas. But it wasn't me they were looking at anymore.
He stopped a few paces from the ring.
One hand rested at his belt, the other hung loose—fingers twitching, like he was remembering something.
Then he spoke, "she is mine."
My wolf snapped—claws suddenly scraping beneath my skin. I gasped, barely able to breathe. It took everything not to stagger.
He didn't smirk. He didn't leer. His eyes locked onto mine in the most dangerous way anyone had ever looked at me.
He just stared calmly, steadily... like it was already decided.
I forced a step forward, my eyes narrowing.
"Who the hell are you?"
His gaze glinted—amber under flame. "The one who didn't come to ask."
Gasps rose behind me.
The pack was suddenly in uproar—murmurs flying, tension bristling through the air. But none of them moved. Like they feared him.
But I feared nothing.
My lips curved. "Challenge me," I hissed. "If you want to be Alpha, challenge me like a man."
He tilted his head, eyes unreadable.
"I don't want your throne, Velvet Grayfang," he said, almost sounding... upset.
And oh—the way he said my name. Like it was already his.
"I came for you."
My skin burned. My lips parted. Worse, I felt the pulse low in my stomach before I even realized I had clenched my fists. My body was reacting before my mind could catch up.
The pull.
I had heard of it. Read about it.
But this… this was different. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't demanding. It was fire licking up my thighs, pressure blooming where I'd never felt power before.
And I hated it.
"Leave," I breathed, backing up a step. "Now."
His gaze swept over me like he could smell the change already rising beneath my skin.
"I'll leave," he said, voice darker than before, "when you stop lying to yourself."
And I felt the tremor of his words in my feet.
It didn't make sense…
What was he…?
His eyes bore into me like he could feel the flame burning inside me—like he could hear my wolf growling.
His lips curved, and then he turned his back to me, just like that.
Elias caught my arm the second the doors closed behind the stranger.
"Velvet," he said, eyes filled with worry, glancing toward the door. "What was that? Do you know who he is?"
"No."
"You sure?"
No.
I wasn't sure of anything. All I knew was the taste of smoke still lingering on my tongue and the weight in my chest.
The way my knees threatened to give out—
even though I had never once knelt for any man. But this… this was different. He hadn't demanded I submit. He had promised I would.
And worst of all?
A part of me wanted to.
I walked out of the chamber with my head held high, like the past few hours hadn't just happened.
The silence behind me rang louder than any applause ever could.
Let them talk.
Let them doubt.
Let them threaten.
Outside, the cold wind drifted across my skin. My wolf stirred and something told me…
That wouldn't be the last time I saw him.