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I got up on my chair and cupped my hands, screaming his name. “Julian! Julian, I love you! You’ve got this!”

Roland’s jaw ticked in anger. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back down. “He’s going to lose, omega. I recommend you come to terms with the fact that you’re coming home with us.”

I had so many retorts on the tip of my tongue, but none of them mattered, because he was wrong. I knew which pack I was leaving with, and it sure as hell wasn’t the Conclave.

The fighters stood in the center and shook hands, Eamon grinning as he squeezed tightly enough to make Julian wince almost imperceptibly.

The priestess raised her hand. “Begin.”

Eamon lunged forward, throwing a heavy jab that smacked into Julian’s bicep, driving him back from the force. Another blow came, and then another, each punch shaking Julian down to his bones. Eamon’s fists were sledgehammers, relentless and unstoppable, and Julian’s guard began to buckle. My breath hitched as he inched closer and closer to the edge of the ring. One or two more hits could push him out entirely and end this.

After all he been through today, every match just to save me from being owned by the Conclave, and he’d stumble at the finish line.

Not that I could even blame him at all, he was fighting for my life and had already given it his all. I just felt so useless, watching and unable to do anything. I tugged again at the stupid collar, and my eyes darted quickly to Linda. She nodded, her posture tense, ready to leap up and bring me into the bathroom immediately should Julian fall.

A punch caught Julian in the ribs, and the air exploded from his lungs. He stumbled, barely keeping his footing, his eyes crossing as Eamon laughed, circling him with cocky determination.

My lips trembled, but Julian shook his head and snuck a look at me, winking his promise to win. Gritting his teeth, he blinked, and smiled as he saw an opening.

Eamon stepped in with another heavy jab, but Julian’s speed returned and he twisted his torso, dodging just in time. The linebacker’s fist swung wide, leaving his side unguarded. With a burst of renewed energy, Julian shot forward, his right hand striking Eamon with a vicious hook.

Eamon grunted, stumbling back a step, his face flashing with surprise. “The pup’s still got some fight in him!” he laughed, trying to cover his shock.

You can do this, Julian.

Julian pressed forward and threw a quick combination—left hook, right uppercut—each punch landing with brutal precision. Eamon tried to guard, but Julian slipped around him, staying just out of reach of the linebacker’s sweeping arms. His fists flew, each punch chipping away at Eamon’s defenses.

The linebacker was getting angry now. I knew he and the Conclave had been expecting an easy victory, but they’d severely underestimated Julian’s skill and determination. The Conclave thought of themselves as the peak of shifters, but the difference between them and my pack was clear as day. Julian was a true alpha, protecting his mate, and honoring the bond between us. Refusing to let me go, because I was more than just an omega to him.

Eamon roared, swinging again, but Julian ducked low, weaving under the aimless and messy punch.

My pack was on their feet, yelling with everything they had, and I sent all the love and faith I had for Julian through my bond, willing him every ounce of my energy to finish the fight.

I took a quick glance at the Conclave around me, their smiles faltering with Eamon’s diminishing edge. I couldn’t wait to see the looks on their faces when Julian wiped the floor with their “champion.”

The crowd surged and their anticipation crackled like electricity in the air as Julian popped up with an uppercut that connected with Eamon’s chin. The big man’s head snapped back, his body reeling. He staggered, shock widening his eyes as Julian closed in. He was relentless.Merciless.

Because Julian and I loved each other, and he was not giving up.

With a final, powerful hook, Julian struck Eamon across the jaw, the impact reverberating through the ring. Eamon wobbled, eyes unfocused, before his knees buckled and he dropped to the floor with a heavy thud.

Time seemed to stand still as the room became deathly quiet, all eyes on the fallen hulk of an alpha lying on the ground. Julian stood over him, panting heavily, fists still clenched, every ounce of his energy spent.

“….seven, eight, nine, ten. Competitor thirty-two has lost.”

The crowd erupted, cheering and shouting Julian’s name, but he barely heard them as he looked towards me. Bruised, battered, and victorious.

He’d done it. I had known he could, but actually witnessing how hard he’d fought for me and watching him take and delivercountless blows just to keep me safe… my heart was so full I felt it might burst.

Tears in my eyes, I got up to run towards him but Roland wrapped an arm around me and held me back.

“I contest the Rite!” he yelled.

“Let me go,” I hissed. Shifters crowded the ring to congratulate Julian, and I watched my pack struggle to wade through them all to get to me. “Don’t be a sore loser, you’re just embarrassing yourself!”

He ignored me and continued. “By the authority of the Conclave, I declare the results voided!”

Females jumped on top of their chairs, booing and jeering at Roland. He sneered, his hold on me only tightening.