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"Now entering the arena is the unbeatable brains of the North Pack, Alpha Caspian Storm!" Commander Malakai introduced.

It was time for the showdown between Alaric Storm and his father.

The audience clapped politely at first, expecting nothing out of the ordinary.

But the moment Caspian appeared, dressed in sleek black from head to toe, the energy changed.

In each hand, he carried Escrima sticks, their glossy surfaces catching the light.

A ripple of surprise rolled through the stands. Was that a weapon?

It wasn’t that weapons were outright banned, but Malakai had clearly stated no brutality. Apparently, Alpha Caspian had decided to blur that line, or maybe he had something else in mind. No one knew for sure.

The arena buzzed with anticipation as Caspian expertly twirled his Escrima sticks, then set his stance solidly at the center of the floor, completely in control.

"For a nerd, he really went full ninja," Daisy remarked beside Violet, impressed.

Malakai’s voice boomed again. "And facing him is the charming prince of Lunaris Academy, Alaric Storm!"

The cheers hit a whole new volume and Violet’s gaze was drawn instantly to the entrance as Alaric emerged, dressed to match his father in black combat pants and a black singlet that hugged his torso, white bandages wrapped neatly from his wrists down to his fingers.

His Escrima sticks rested lightly in his hands, his expression cool but lit with challenge.

Violet’s heart gave a hard thump. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around it, but there was no denying this ninja vibe was hot.

The way his black clothes highlighted his pale skin, the measured grace of his movements, that icy, focused stare, Alaric was giving pure sexy warrior energy.

Her northern prince had never struck her as dramatic — theatrics were usually preserved for Roman — but tonight, he was delivering full cinematic flair.

The arena was holding its breath as Malakai gave the nod. "Begin!"

In a flash, father and son closed the distance, their Escrima sticks clashing with a clean, resonant crack. The sound snapped through the arena, silencing the last of the murmurs in the crowd.

They separated just as quickly, both twirling their sticks with brisk, flawless control. It was mesmerizing to watch their spins, flips, and blocks flowing in perfect sync. The sticks moved so fast they blurred, cutting the air with a low, sharp whistle.

The arena shook with roaring cheers.

Violet was impressed like everyone else, but her stomach was tight with nerves. No matter how good Alaric was, she couldn’t shake her worry for him.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Alaric who stole the show, it was Caspian.

Known to everyone as the workaholic Alpha, always buried in paperwork and meetings, he wasn’t exactly expected to shine in combat.

Yet here he was, proving exactly why he held the Alpha title.

His speed and sheer skill were nothing short of breathtaking.

They collided again, their sticks hammering together in a rapid exchange of blows. Both men moved like shadows, ducking, twisting, and leaping. The Storms, like the Dravens, were masters of agility, but they brought something more: pure speed.

Blinding, dizzying speed.

More than once, the human spectators struggled to keep up, their eyes darting side to side, trying not to miss a single flash of movement

Suddenly, with a perfectly timed pivot, Alaric swung and caught Caspian across the back with a solid thwack. Caspian stumbled forward, just a fraction of a second off his rhythm.

The students cheered wildly, voices echoing across the arena. "Nice move, Prince Alaric!"

Alaric didn’t hide his satisfaction. He grinned and let his eyes lift toward Violet. Their gazes locked for a heartbeat, and Violet’s heart skipped.

Then Caspian rushed at him without warning, giving him no time to bask in the moment. Alaric spun, instantly back on guard, his body coiled like a spring.

This time, the match got serious.

The fight escalated, their movements faster and deadlier, like two battle-hardened warriors locked in a real fight.

The Escrima sticks collided again and again in rapid succession, their bodies twisting, dodging, and weaving with impeccable timing.

The acrobatics were spectacular, flips and spins merging perfectly with rapid-fire attacks.

Alpha Caspian was good but Alaric was better.

Violet’s breath snagged as she noticed faint crackles of lightning begin to ripple across Alaric’s body.

It was subtle but undeniable, sliding over his arms and shoulders like a lover’s caress.

His speed kicked up a notch, and for a fleeting moment, it was clear he could finish this match right here, and now.

But then, Alaric hesitated.

It was tiny, almost imperceptible, but enough. He slowed down at just the critical moment, his foot slipping slightly out of place and Caspian seized the opportunity.

With a swift, merciless move, Caspian hooked Alaric’s leg and swept him off balance, sending him crashing to the mat. Before Alaric could react, Caspian crossed his Escrima sticks in an "X" over his throat, pinning him down.

The arena held its breath, waiting for the outcome. Without hesitation, Alaric dropped his Escrima sticks in a show of surrender.

There was an explosion of applause, as the people roared their approval for one of the best matches of the day. Even Zara Storm, who had barely looked up from her work all evening, was clapping now, her eyes shining with rare pride.

Caspian stepped back and extended a hand to his son. Alaric took it, and his father pulled him to his feet, pressing their foreheads together briefly, a gesture of respect even as the crowd celebrated.

Alaric turned to leave, wiping sweat from his brow. But as he passed Violet’s section, he shot her a wink, smirking in a way that made her stomach flip.

From the VIP seats, Zara caught the exchange and frowned instantly, her eyes narrowing. She glanced around and, for the first time, noticed that Elsie was nowhere to be seen, just her mother. A feeling of unease crept over her, but she shook it off. She was probably overthinking things.

It was common for girls to crush on boys. Her son understood his duty and would make the right choice.

Violet’s excitement over Alaric’s fight faded quickly, her nerves tightening again. Up next was Henry and Asher’s match, and she already had a bad feeling about it.